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team bonding - a jackieshauna x fem!reader series (part one)
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pairing(s): jackieshauna x fem!reader
summary: in which jackie and shauna have been at each other’s throats for weeks now, bickering over the most insignificant things. one night after they have a ‘private talk’, they approach you with a confession & an idea which can help them bond and mend their friendship. (or! jackieshauna have a threesome with the reader to solve their issues because they both have been crushing on you for a while...)
tags ⎯⎯ ✦ best friends to lovers, threesome, rivals to lovers, smut, fluff, hints of angst, power bottom!jackie taylor, dom!jackie taylor, power bottom!shauna shipman, dom!shauna shipman, service top!reader, sub!reader, teasing, slight bullying, powerplay, face sitting, cunnilingus, fingering, degradation, praise, petnames, light bondage, slight voyeurism, edging 𝝑𓏲
warnings!: nsfw, graphic smut, explicit language, 18+ (minors pls don't interact!)
word count: 11.9k+
a/n: this is my first ever time posting any of my yellowjackets fics of mine on here so i hope you all enjoy, i’m also going to be posting this to ao3, my username is jurinsanna if you guys ever read stuff on there :) w/ this fic although it's fem!reader i have tried to make it as inclusive as possible, there's no like super descriptive parts about the reader (their body type, skin colour etc.) so i hope nobody feels excluded
oh also the reader has glasses lol
It had been four weeks in the wilderness and Shauna was seriously pissing you off.
“I can’t believe we’re stranded in the middle of nowhere and you’re still concerned about being better than me”, you groaned as you fed the fire more wood.
She looked at you and failed to see how you shifted under her gaze. “We’re gonna be rescued soon, asshat. I want to just keep up with my studies.” You tried not to laugh at how utterly ridiculous that entire sentence was; only a girl like her would be worried about her grades in a literal life-or-death situation.
Shauna’s most-likely snappy rebuttal was cut off as you both heard an impatient voice cough behind you. Jackie Taylor stood with all the confidence you expected of a popular high school soccer captain. She looked pissed off too. You fought the urge to roll your eyes but also bit back a little smile, it was always so funny when she was annoyed. She had been very annoyed recently, it seemed her and Shauna were arguing 24/7 about nothing and everything. Like fire and ice. They hadn’t seemingly meshed well in the past few days, it looked to be more than the fact the tensions were high and stress amongst the team was seemingly contagious.
“What are you two doing?” Jackie asked, eyes flittering between you like she was looking for something that wasn’t there.
“Sitting by the fire, what else would we be doing?” Shauna replied for the both of you, the fire hitting her eyes, giving the brown irises specks of gold that make you try to reign in the pull of desire you felt in your chest. Your classmate’s big brown eyes had been a weakness of yours ever since you had first met.
“I don’t know”, the confidence that seemed to be held in your captain dissipated in seconds. Jackie’s shoulders deflated and she uncrossed her arms like a child scolded. It seemed like only Shauna could do that, and maybe you, but there hadn’t really been a chance for you to confirm that yet.
Captain Taylor was petty and bitter for a reason you couldn’t work out, you and Shauna could tell she wanted to say something else but couldn’t think of anything (much to her own embarrassment). You filled in the silence that was beginning to teeter on awkward: “Umm, well, do you want to sit with us?”, coughing awkwardly, you tried to avoid Shauna’s irritated glare.
“Okay”, the standing girl said with a voice that suggested she was pleased as punch, sitting directly next to you on the other side.
Sitting directly in between Shauna and Jackie was certainly interesting, the contrast between them always made you giggle, and shiver. Shauna sat with her legs apart, manspreading, her jeans splattered with mud and the blood of an animal you could not remember, her nails were short and blunt. They were painted as black as the abyss. Jackie’s manicured nails looked odd in comparison, and in general too, since you had been in the wilderness for around a month now. Her legs were crossed, and the shorts showed off the scrapes and bruises that littered her calves (her very perfect calves). Gulping, you looked ahead and let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.
“What?” Shauna asked you directly, fixing you with a suspicious glare, sometimes you wondered if she knew about the way you felt for her and her best friend. You tried to brush the thought aside, she was probably just being broody as usual.
“What?” You threw back, panic rising in your throat, “why are you looking at me like that?”
She doesn’t answer and lets up her gaze, instead staring into the fire once again, you try to push down the taste of disappointment. You had really wanted an answer to that question, every time the brunette looked you in the eyes it produced a feeling inside your chest that was akin to melting. The feeling of disappointment however was short-lived as soon you felt a weight on your other shoulder, the side that Jackie was sitting next to you; her head resting on your shoulder comfortably. Oh, Jesus Christ, you flushed bright red, sending a silent prayer to whatever God was listening that neither of them would notice how flustered you were from such a simple, friendly gesture.
It turned out either God didn’t exist, or if He did, that He was not listening, as when you gained enough courage to turn back to Shauna, her eyes met your own. You looked away quickly but didn’t miss the flash of something jealous that passed across her face. It at first made sense to you, really, she and Jackie were such close friends, or used to be, she was probably just jealous that you two were closer now. You and Jackie were childhood best friends after all.
Shauna currently hated the other girl though, so that jealousy was curiously placed. Or… you were just misinterpreting it.
“Dude, I’m so serious if we don’t get out of here soon, I’m gonna go insane”, Jackie’s voice penetrated the silence. She sounded stressed, a plausible reason why she was practically laying on you.
“We’re going to be fine, ok?”, you didn’t fully believe the words yourself but said them anyways as you gazed at her with concern swimming in your eyes, wanting to comfort your captain more than anything else. Shauna made a noise of amusement beside you, causing you to turn to her with a glare, it always seemed like they were unknowingly battling for your attention. Or at least you constantly struggled to decide who to give it to.
“What’s so funny?”, Jackie asked her best friend, voice laced with disgruntlement.
“I’m just thinking about how when we get back, I’m gonna kick Y/N’s ass on the midterm”, Shauna’s voice was light, and you could tell she was a) not intending to hurt your feelings and b) genuinely excited to compete against you again academically. It made you nostalgic somewhat, remembering all those times you compared test scores when you were little.
“You’re so not”, your reply came quickly and made the other laugh.
“I remember when we quizzed each other on enzymes, you barely got four out of ten”, Shauna was quick to remind you, making you flush. It wasn’t what she had said that had made you redden (seriously, you didn’t care all that much for biology right in that moment… at least not the stuff they taught on the Wiskayok curriculum), it was her tone. All playful and almost sultry.
Beside you two, Jackie groaned; “God, you two are such nerds.” She had never been interested in school as much as Shauna and you were – which was funny considering she did actually maintain straight As.
You and the other girl both turned towards your captain with matching twin glares, “We’re really not”, you protested.
She reached a hand up and playfully wiggled your glasses, “These tell me otherwise”, you heard Shauna snort behind you and tried not to flush. “I don’t know why you’re laughing, Shipman, you’re even worse”, Jackie laughed, carefully taking them off of you, you were about to protest, your vision already going a little blurry, but she soon was leaning over you. The dark blonde was pressed flush against you as she placed your glasses on Shauna, pushing them up the bridge of the brunette’s nose as she protested.
You tried not to squeal like a loser as you looked at Shauna, Jesus, the glasses were really cute on her.
“Looking good, Shipman”, Jackie teased. The taller girl huffed and took them off, handing them back to you with an apologetic glance. “Aww come on”, the popular girl protested. Jackie turned to you, a small smirk making its way gradually across her lips. “Don’t you think she looks good with your glasses, Y/N?”.
The question made you nearly faint, why was she asking that? It was clear Jackie knew what she was doing, from the way she was glancing at the two of you.
“Umm”, you hesitated, putting your glasses back on, of course you thought Shauna looked gorgeous no matter what, but it was embarrassing having to compliment someone so close to you. Especially when you had a massive crush on them and the person currently teasing you both. You turned to look at Shauna, instantly wishing you hadn’t, her big brown eyes held so much expectancy, she looked like a kicked puppy.
“Well? Did I look okay with them on?”, she asked you.
The way she was looking at you made you want to cry. “Yeah, they look nice on you”, your reply was quiet and nervous.
A small smile appeared on her face; you couldn’t see her teeth, but you could tell it was genuine. You couldn’t, however, tell that she was blushing. Jackie could though, ever so perceptive when it came to her best friend (and you, it seemed). “Aww, Shipman’s blushing”, Jackie teased, she was still half leaning on you and didn’t appear to want to move anytime soon.
“I’m not blushing”, Shauna’s response was blunt but there was a hint of shaky embarrassment in her tone.
“Sure”, Jackie drawled, not seeming to believe her. You didn’t know what to believe, mind too occupied with trying to figure out why Shauna cared so much about your opinion.
Soon they were both looking at you again, their gazes making you feel warm all the way down to your toes. Shauna took a moment to look at Jackie, before standing up, “I need to go help Taissa chop some wood, when it gets darker it’ll be too cold to do it”, her words made the feeling of desperation buzz in your chest. You didn’t want her to go, you wanted to stay there forever in between them on the cut-down tree trunk, saying nothing and doing nothing but listening to each other breathe.
“Duty calls”, you replied a little curtly, fighting the urge to lean into Jackie and fall asleep, she was so warm, and you were so cold.
Jackie stayed silent and Shauna made a move to leave, but not before pausing a moment to shoot a request to her best friend: “Could you meet me by the back of the cabin in like an hour? I need to talk to you about something.” The words made you nervous, even though they weren’t directed towards you, but Jackie didn’t seem to mind, instead giving her a thumbs up of approval before letting her arm drop again and wrap around your waist. After a moment she grabbed your arm and put it over her shoulder, your arm resting against her chest.
You and Jackie sat there for a while, your head leaned against hers, you could feel her heartbeat against the back of your arm, and it made you so tired you began to drift off. When you woke there was no one there but you, somehow the other had left without waking you up and had laid you down carefully on the log, leaving quickly, but not before laying a blanket over you.
The night air was cool, the fire had burnt out hours ago, and the hairs on your arms stood up as you wrapped the blanket tighter around you, standing to go inside. You could hear the other girls chatter inside and felt rather like you were about to go inside your home, it was odd how comfortable you all had gotten in that cabin. You wondered if in other circumstances the same sort of thing would have happened, the closeness. The door was opened slowly as you shivered on the porch, the girls went quiet at the site of you.
“Hey”, Lottie spoke first, “you okay?”.
She looked concerned and you swallowed the feeling of affection that rose in your throat. These people were teammates, friends, fellow survivors, but they weren’t your family, you couldn’t think of them as such. The softness Van and Nat were looking at you with told a different story. “Uh, yeah, just fell asleep out there”, you said quietly.
Tai shot you a strained smile, “You want some food?”, she offered you an unremarkable selection of food: deer and berries. Your stomach made a sound as if it could see the food as well as your eyes could, Tai laughed a little, her smile real this time as she watched you grab a handful of berries.
Eating them quickly, you glanced around the room, “Where’s Jackie and Shauna?”, you asked.
Their places were empty and the girls around you shrugged, all except Misty, she regarded you with wandering eyes as she spoke; “They’re outside the back of the cabin, said they needed to talk privately.” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion; they had been there all this time? Surely you had been asleep for at least two hours, what “private conversation” took more than an hour?
“I’m gonna go look for them”, you said, leaving no room for argument, walking past the girls and through the cabin till you were outside, this time leaving through the back entrance.
It was so dark you had to squint to see, even with your glasses on. Everything seemed still, all that could be seen was the lining of the forest. Trees for miles. You began to grow worried, searching with a little more fervour for the two girls as you realized it was way too cold and way too dark for them to be out here alone. Still not seeing much, you went round to the side of the cabin, near an area of forest, your ears were suddenly greeted with an assortment of sounds: rustling, heavy breathing, moans?
“Hello?”, you called out, thoroughly flustered.
The sounds stopped, before being replaced with muttered curses and panicked shuffling. “Shit, uh- hey”, Jackie appeared from behind a tree and approached you slowly, as if you were a feral cat and would run off with any sudden movement. She looked positively debauched, her hair was messed up and her t-shirt was scrunched halfway up her stomach. You could see a litter of badly hidden marks across her neck and chest. Questions were about to tumble out of your mouth, but you both were interrupted by Shauna coming out of the same private spot. She approached you two slowly, looking as roughed up as the other girl, her mouth was swollen and she was holding her flannel as if she had taken it off, she put it back on quickly, to you and Jackie’s shared secret delight.
“What are you guys doing out here?”, the question sounded shaky leaving your mouth and you thought you already knew the answer, but that answer seemed almost impossible, maybe even too good to be true - not that you’d admit to yourself that you’d think of it as that. It didn’t make sense, Jackie Taylor was the straightest girl you had ever met, and the most sexual interest you had ever seen Shauna show was towards her scientific calculator during the last physics test you had taken.
Not to mention the fact for the past week they had been arguing 24/7 and had been at each other’s throats since even before the crash. By the marks on Jackie’s neck though, you could guess this time they had taken the phrase quite literally.
“Oh, just uh, talking through some stuff. Working out issues, you know?”, Shauna sounded nervous, and it made you even more suspicious. But you probably had just read the situation wrong, right? You were cold and still slightly tired, the dark could have easily pulled tricks on you, especially with your poor eyesight.
“Right, um, yeah”, you replied, “you guys should probably come inside.” They nodded quickly and followed you round the side to the front of the cabin.
“But um, could we talk to you upstairs privately? Once we get inside?”, Jackie spoke from behind you as you approached the porch. You were flooded with apprehension and a twinge of excitement and pulled the blanket tighter around your shoulders.
“Okay”.
The journey from the porch to the attic upstairs was eerily quiet, Shauna and Jackie seemed to be communicating in shared secret glances which made you feel twitchy and hot. What were they going to speak to you about? Did they not want to be friends anymore? The thought made your stomach turn. In just a few moments all three of you were standing in the cabin’s attic, the inside was a little warmer, so you dropped the blanket onto the floor where Shauna’s makeshift bed was. It looked oddly cozy.
Jackie spoke first, “So um, we wanted to talk to you about something, something we’ve uh… noticed.” Shauna nodded at her words, and they stepped a little closer to you, and each other.
You nodded, trying to keep calm, what the fuck was she talking about? “You know it’s, like, normal to have crushes on girls, right?”, she asked. The question was more rhetorical than literal, and it made your brain short circuit for a brief moment.
Your eyes widened. “What?”, the words were out before you could stop them. Shauna exchanged a glance with her best friend before elaborating.
“We’ve noticed you’ve been like, looking at us. I don’t know, I only noticed a few weeks ago when Jackie pointed it out to me, she said that you always stared at me. And then like, thinking about it, I realised you also always stare at her. You never really, like, show interest in boys or anything like that, so that’s the conclusion we’ve come to… and to be honest it’s the only one we can think of that makes sense.”
Jackie nodded with each word she spoke, seemingly comfortable with the idea that you had a crush on both her and Shauna or at least were somewhat attracted to them.
“We’re not mad or anything”, the light-haired girl rushed to clarify, anxious that you’d bolt off downstairs.
“Oh” was the only word that could come out of your mouth.
Shauna laughed a little, “I think we’ve broken her”.
Jackie laughed at that, before stepping a little closer to you with a teasing grin, “…We’re right though, about you liking us, aren’t we?”.
“W-what, I-I”, you stuttered before giving up on trying to talk to deny it, you moved for the door but were stopped by two hands on your chest as your captain stood between you and the door, blocking your attempts to flee.
“Oh, you’re not going anywhere, baby” Jackie pushed you roughly, laughing as you collided with Shauna, your back pushed against the brunette’s front as she held you in place.
“What?”, you were breathless, head turning to meet Shauna’s gaze - she looked almost ravenous. Turning back to Jackie, you realised she had a similar expression, one not too dissimilar from the one a wolf wore looking at its prey.
“You heard what she said” Shauna spoke from behind you, arms stilling your attempts to break free of her grasp. You didn’t really want to get away from her though, in fact, you wanted to sink into her arms as you felt Jackie’s soft wet mouth explore every yet undiscovered part of you. But appearances had to be kept up, it was a lot to take in all at once. Unfortunately (or fortunately) for you, they both saw right through you.
The girl in front of you laughed, “You know what me and Shipman mean, be a good girl and listen carefully now.” Jackie reached a hand out to trail drown your front, fingertips raising goosebumps down the soft flesh of your arms.
“Jackie and I, well, we’ve had some disagreements recently”, Shauna started to explain, but the cogs in her brain seemed to be whirring all too fast and she gazed at her captain slash best friend a little pleadingly, waiting for her to continue. Jackie seemed to notice her hesitancy and grinned, she moved closer towards you, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. She spoke then with a confidence Shauna currently did not have, or appeared to have anyway.
“I remember Coach saying one time that the best way two players could bond and fix whatever little problems they’d been having was by… actually, we want you to try and guess.” It was getting clearer by the moment that they were not going to make this easy for you.
You cleared your throat and tried to think back to what he had said, your mind came up blank, only thinking of the heat that Shauna’s front was producing by being pressed flush up against your back. You could feel how hard her nipples were through her bra. “I-I, uh, I don’t know”, your reply made them both laugh, Jackie smiled a little softer then, her eyes wandering to the girl behind you. You turned to follow her gaze, eyes meeting Shauna, the brunette leaned in to whisper in your ear, you could feel the warmth of her mouth near your neck and fought the urge to whimper. All composure was lost at the next word she spoke.
“Sharing”.
They let out twin sighs of desire as you made what seemed to be the most embarrassing and desperate noise of your life. “I think she likes that idea”, Jackie teased, running her fingers up to the hem of your t-shirt, they hovered there for a second before she grabbed hold of it, slightly tugging it up, exposing the skin of your lower stomach.
“Of course she does, she likes us”, Shauna grinned, her confidence seemingly growing by the second.
“Can I take this off?”, you were asked by Jackie, who was pressing her face into your neck. “It’s okay if you want to keep it on”. To them your comfort was more important than the amount of fun they got from watching you squirm, a small reminder that they had been your closest friends before anything else. They truly did care – a fact that made you comfortable enough to agree to their request.
You nodded. Neither of them seemed satisfied with your response though, so Shauna urged you further.
“Use your words, love”.
“Yes”.
“Good” Shauna hummed, moving back a little as Jackie pulled your t-shirt up and over your head. You could hear as their breaths hitched at the sight of you, you stood there a little nervous in only a black bra. “Wow” the girl stood before you spoke, always the first to give her opinion, “you’re beautiful”, she murmured.
“Jackie’s right, you’re gorgeous”, Shauna said, sounding almost out of breath - the brunette smiled a little and her eyes trailed down to the small of your back. As they took in your body you fought the urge to cross your arms across your chest, not because they were making you uncomfortable, but because you weren’t the most confident of people. Some people at Wiskayok had given you shit for your looks before, before joining the soccer team you had been pretty chubby, and none of the varying physical changes you had went through during your life had made a difference to the way you felt about yourself.
Jackie noticed your sheer nervousness, there was a glint of remorse and recognition in her dark eyes. “You don’t have to hide from us, ok? We love what we see, don’t we Shauna?”. Despite her shitty judgemental parents, and all the popular girl stereotypes Jackie fit, being cruel wasn’t one of them. Throughout your time being classmates and close friends with her she had always been in your corner. Right then was no different.
The same case applied to Shauna. The young woman in question nodded, moving forward so she could be pressed against you again. “Jackie and I are so excited to share you, just for us hmm?”, the brunette was as close as she was before as her lips ghosted the side of your neck.
This time, Jackie moved closer as well, running a hand down your trembling body as she leaned in close to your face.
“Can I kiss you?”, she asked, her voice was sweet, but her facial expression told a different story; it looked like she wanted to eat you alive. You’d be lying if you said you wouldn’t let her. You would let Jackie Taylor and her very stubborn best friend do anything they wanted to you.
“Yeah”, it seemed right then you couldn’t give more than one-word answers, your voice trembled as she leaned in and kissed you sweetly, she tasted faintly like cherries. It was probably the lip gloss she still had some of, despite the fact you three had been in the wilderness for nearly a month.
Both of you heard the strange, desperate sound Shauna had made at the sight of you two kissing. Jackie laughed and turned to her best friend, “Do you like watching us? Being watched? I bet you wish she saw us outside earlier, don’t you?”, she asked Shauna as you turned to the brunette who was flushing profusely.
Your stomach was still buzzing from the kiss with your captain as you looked at the midfielder. “Yeah, I do”, Shauna replied, looking mildly embarrassed at being caught out, but mainly just wanton.
“Why don’t you give Shauna a kiss now, baby? She’s ever so good at it”, the shorter girl let go of you and gestured to Shauna, who stood behind you with a hand on your waist. You didn’t need to be told twice as you turned your head and took Shauna’s mouth with your own, the kiss was every bit as heated as your one with Jackie’s was sweet.
“Shit”, you, and Shauna could hear the light-haired girl beside you let out a noise of approval as she watched you two kiss. “Slip her some tongue, Shipman”, she ordered, the words made you almost choke, as well as the fact immediately after you could feel the other girl’s tongue swiping against your bottom lip for entrance. Shauna was always good at following orders and Jackie was always good at giving them - the girl was the captain of your team for a reason. The dark-haired girl tasted like the berries she had eaten that morning, there were also hints of… cherry?
Oh. So that’s why they were in the spirit of sharing. You hadn’t been mistaken thinking what you thought when you saw them outside earlier. The thought of the two of them together out there, kissing heatedly against a tree, made your knees weak - even more so when Shauna let out a whine into your mouth.
“You two are really enjoying yourselves huh?” Jackie observed, lust-blown pupils fixated on the point where Shauna’s mouth - and, god, her tongue met yours. You half expected her to pull up a chair and put her feet up to enjoy the show, but Jackie Taylor was never one to just observe, she loved to be a little more hands-on. So, really, you shouldn’t have been surprised when she approached behind you and moved your hair out of the way, exposing the soft skin of your neck. You moaned into Shauna’s mouth as Jackie began to place hot, open-mouthed kisses on your neck, she grazed her teeth against your throat and could feel your pulse against her tongue. You trusted her not to bite too hard if that’s what she wanted.
“Fuck”, you groaned as you could feel Jackie bite your neck lightly. Clearly the weeks in the wilderness had awakened some strange primal urge in the both of them, but you weren’t complaining. She didn’t bite you hard enough to draw blood, and kissed the mark she’d made on your neck to sooth it. Her lips were now at your collarbone.
“So cute”, Shauna pulled away from your mouth to praise you.
“I need you both so bad”, your pleas were cut off by the brunette.
“Let’s take the rest of these clothes off, me and Jackie really don’t want anything in the way.” The dark-blonde-haired girl pulled away from your neck and tugged down your shorts, stepping out of them you noticed how fiercely they stared at your body. The idea made you simultaneously ecstatic and nervous, more so the former than the latter.
They moved you onto the makeshift bed Shauna had set up on the attic floor, it wasn’t the sort of thing out of a romance novel but the three of you really didn’t care, you all were too busy thinking about getting your mouths on each other.
“Why don’t we get out of these clothes too, Shauna?” Jackie suggested, stood above in front of you, she didn’t wait for the other girl’s response as she lifted the crop top over her head, throwing it carelessly to the floor near where your discarded clothes were. Next came her shorts, kicking them off like you had, they joined the small pile of clothes that had accumulated. Of course Jackie Taylor was wearing pink matching underwear, even when stranded in the wilderness fighting for survival, her bra had little love hearts printed on it, her panties however only had one small red heart right in the middle.
Shauna’s eyes were locked on her chest, and you fought the urge to laugh. Their desire for each other had been so obvious, even before you had nearly caught them earlier, or before they had made theirs for you clear, and you had been so oblivious to it all. The taller girl stared for a few moments longer before following suit, taking off her jeans, once she got to her flannel, both you and Jackie made noises of protest.
“Wait, wait, wait - keep that on, but take everything underneath off.”, you were relieved that Jackie was so outspoken in the bedroom, as you were thinking the exact same thing as she was. That damn red flannel would soon be the death of both of you.
“Ok”, Shauna murmured as she took off her t-shirt that was underneath and then put her flannel back on over her bra, she kept it open with the buttons undone so both you and Jackie could see her perfectly sculpted abs. Her bra was black like yours. You resisted the urge to look down, knowing if you caught a glimpse of her toned, long legs you would most likely pass out before you could get to feel them wrapped around your head.
Jackie grabbed her waist gently and pulled her close, leaning in for a kiss that was all tongue. She only pulled away for a moment to pause and muse over your lustful expression, “I think she likes watching us”.
Shauna laughed at her words before replying: “Let’s give our girl a show then”, she moved towards her best friend’s mouth with more fervour this time. You could both tell she was getting more desperate by the minute.
They were right of course, the sight of them kissing drove you fucking insane. You sat from your place on the floor and observed as they made pretty little noises into each other’s mouths, you wondered if today earlier was the first time they had kissed. Probably not. They were best friends after all. It seemed like Shauna noticed your desperation, as soon she moved out of Jackie’s arms and was kneeling in front of you, a hand trailing up your chest.
“Can I take your bra off baby?” She asked, you looked behind her to Jackie, who stood watching attentively.
“Please”, you replied, you wanted, no, needed, to feel Shauna’s mouth on your bare chest.
She unhooked the garment skilfully, leading Jackie to tease her. “Wowza, Shipman, you’re a bra pro.” Shauna rolled her eyes, flushing a dark crimson before finally removing your bra. You smiled at how flustered she got when Jackie teased her. Both of their eyes immediately went straight to your bare chest, “Holy shit”, Jackie breathed out.
Shauna hummed in agreement, a hand itching to reach out and grasp one of your breasts.
“You have like…really nice tits”, the standing girl sounded like she was going to pass out. You could relate to that feeling as Shauna gently moved her fingertips down your collarbone to the top of your right breast.
“Can I…?”, she trailed off. You nodded eagerly and soon Shauna’s warm hands were touching the most sensitive parts of your chest.
“Oh”, you breathed out as she thoroughly felt you up.
“You’re so pretty baby” Shauna’s voice was quiet as she leaned in and kissed you.
“Jesus,” Jackie said from behind the both of you, sounding the most turned-on someone could physically be. “Let me feel her now, Shauna”, her tone was barely controlled as she approached and Shauna protested a little, the noise being muffled by your mouth.
“Come on, Shipman, we’re supposed to be sharing her.” Jackie whined, and Shauna fought the urge to roll her eyes.
“Fine”, she groaned as she pulled begrudgingly away from your mouth. It was flattering to watch them fight over your attention, a part of your brain was still convinced this was some elaborate joke – that all the rest of the team were about to jump out of the shadows and yell that you just got pranked. That hadn’t happened yet though, and didn’t look like it was going to anytime soon. They were serious about wanting you.
The realisation had your chest falling and rising quickly in the cold air but was soon warmed by Jackie’s breath. She sucked one of your nipples into her mouth, you gasped and tried not to moan, her muffled laughter causing vibrations through your body.
“You like Jackie’s mouth on you baby?”, Shauna asked, sounding a little breathless herself. The midfielder opened her shirt so you could see her chest, she laughed when you flushed and looked away instinctively.
Soon Jackie was kissing up your chest, up your neck, and to your mouth: “Do you want us to touch you?”, she asked as Shauna moved to kneel on the other side of you. You nodded, too nervous and starstruck to form a sentence. “Hmmm, what do you think Shipman, should we give her what she wants?”.
The other athlete furrowed her eyebrows in thought, “I think she should work for it, like when we play soccer, you don’t just go for a goal immediately do you? You pass the ball, tire the other team out… that is if we’re still using the excuse that this is just one big team exercise for soccer.” Jackie cracked a grin at that. What Shauna was saying made you shiver, it was scary but exhilarating at how utterly powerless you were under their gazes.
Of course, you technically did have power and could stop at any time you wanted, but you liked feeling like they controlled you. “How can she work for it?”, Jackie asked, a cruel gleam in her eye.
“What do you think, Y/N?” Shauna turned to you then; pupils so blown with lust that her eyes looked almost black.
“I, uh, I don’t know”, your voice was unsteady, and you tried to hold back a moan as Shauna’s hands traced your breasts again.
“Aw, come on, I’m sure your slutty mind can think of something up”, Jackie laughed. Your face warmed and you shifted under Shauna’s hands, “I’m, “ - Shauna moved to pinch one of your nipples, “fuck, I’m not a slut.”
Shauna raised an eyebrow, “You’re letting your two best friends fuck you, that sounds pretty slutty to me”, her words made you squirm.
“It’s a good thing though, we like it”, Jackie added, moving to push your hair back away from your face.
“Yeah, we’ve been waiting to have you for literally forever.” Shauna’s words made you nearly choke on your own spit, how long had they been feeling that way? You imagined them sneaking glances at you in the locker room when you were all getting changed, or on the pitch when you would pour water over yourself to cool down during a drink break.
“Wait, fuck I’ve had an idea.” Jackie suddenly said, looking like a lightbulb had just gone off above her head. The amusing image was about to make you laugh until Shauna began to trace her fingertips lower down your body.
“What is it?”, you struggled to ask as Shauna’s fingers just reached the hem of your underwear, she looked up at you as if she was thoroughly pleased with herself. She was so mean, you loved it.
“You can put your mouth to good work.”
Oh.
“Shit”, Shauna laughed, “another genius idea I’m not gonna lie, I need to step up my game – poor baby looks like she’s about to pass out.” They teased you a few moments longer before Jackie began to grow impatient, needing your mouth on her.
“Is that something you want?” sure she was absolutely soaked through her underwear, but their priority right then was your comfort more than anything else. You were afraid if you opened your mouth you’d start begging, so silently (but very enthusiastically) nodded your head. Staying silent clearly didn’t save you from getting teased, as they cooed and giggled at your reaction respectively.
“Okay, baby, lie down for me”, your captain instructed, the teasing tone from earlier being replaced with soft command. You wanted to ask how you could make her feel good with your mouth if you were laying down but trusted her enough to feel confident that whatever it was, was going to work out, so laid down. Shauna moved a few pillows behind your head, so that your neck wasn’t in an uncomfortable position, the consideration made your heart flutter.
“Shipman, help me take my panties off, will you?”, she asked a suddenly flustered Shauna as she unhooked her own bra and let it drop to the floor.
“U-uh, yeah, shit, sure.”
Next thing you knew, Jackie’s underwear was gone, and you were face to face with her pussy as she straddled your head. An embarrassingly loud noise left your mouth as you took her in. “You like what you see?”, she grinned from her position above you, you couldn’t see her face but could hear in her voice how much she was enjoying teasing you like this. Fighting the urge to immediately put your mouth on her, you bit your tongue and listened as they made fun of you.
“I bet she’s trying really hard to not taste you”, Shauna said, moving next to you so she could look at your face. “Jesus Jackie, she looks like she’s going to cry with how desperate she is”, she cooed.
Jackie laughed and wiggled her hips like she was taunting you. “Okay, okay”, she seemed like she was going to give you a break and lower herself onto your impatient tongue, “I’ll let her prove that she deserves to be fucked”. Your captain slowly lowered herself onto your mouth, with a moan she leaned her head back, pleasantly overwhelmed by the sensation of your tongue moving pressed flat against her clit. You moved downwards to her slit and prodded inside her with your tongue, hoping to find her g spot as soon as possible. It would be a complete lie to say you hadn’t given much thought to what your best friend would taste like, she tasted so good, and you knew you’d never forget her taste or her scent or the way her hands were now tangled in your hair.
“Shit, Shauna, she’s actually pretty damn good at this”, she spoke to you next: “have you had practice eating pussy baby?” You moaned into her and tried to respond but were too preoccupied with trying to get her to cum in your mouth as you needed to taste it desperately, your underwear was already soaked through but the things they were saying made them even more so.
“I don’t think she can talk”, Shauna chuckled, observing the way you kept going back up to Jackie’s clit to give it attention.
“Whatever, fuck, whatever she’s doing it’s- ugh- it’s working”, the girl above you sounded like she was drunk on your tongue, her words slurred and struggled. Shauna couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy, of Jackie, of you? she couldn’t tell - but knew whatever it was, was outweighed by the sheer arousal that overcame her watching as her best friend rode your face.
Jackie began to grind into your face, deciding she couldn’t just sit still any longer, she needed to have control. You gave it up happily, as usual when it came to her, your hands reaching around to grab her ass and help her ride your face.
“Slap her ass”, the brunette ordered, you obeyed without hesitation and soon a small red print showed on the unmarked flesh of Jackie’s ass. Shauna moved around and kneeled so that her and Jackie were facing each other, almost face to face, she kissed her deeply.
“Fuck”, Jackie whimpered into her mouth, already close. The other girl grinned and tucked some of Jackie’s dark blonde hair behind her ear.
“I didn’t expect her to be so good at this”, the brunette mused, it was true, she knew you weren’t completely innocent but hadn’t expected for you to be this good.
“Well, she’s beaten your science test scores before so- “, Jackie’s broken words were interrupted by a moan as you began to suck on her clit, “I’d say she’s pretty much good, fuck, at e-everything now”.
The midfielder feigned offence, “Just because she’s good at eating pussy and science doesn’t mean I’m not”.
“Wanna prove it?” Jackie asked her through breathy moans with the hint of a smirk.
“Happily, but right now it’s about this little slut”, Shauna moved a hand down to stroke some of your hair surprisingly gently. Gentle was not a word to describe how Jackie’s fists were still gripping your hair though as she impaled herself on your tongue. They began to kiss again, and you’d have given anything to see them as well as hear them, the desperation didn’t last long as Jackie’s hips began to stutter.
“Fuck, Shipman, she’s gonna make me cum.”
Shauna laughed, kissing her again, “Go on, babe. Cum all over our best friend’s face.” It turns out Jackie Taylor could take orders as well as give them, as soon she was coming hard in your mouth with a loud cry. She tasted even better than you had imagined, Shauna had to steady her so she didn’t collapse on top of you, both of you calmed her as she came down from her orgasm.
“Holy shit”, the striker breathed out, legs shaking, you tried not to let out a noise of disappointment as she moved off of your face, instead opting to sit on your lap.
That feeling was short-lived though as she carefully bent down to kiss you. Jackie groaned as she tasted herself on your mouth, your other teammate watched for a moment before kneeling beside you so she could kiss you too. Shauna made a similar noise, “Fuck, Jackie, you taste really good.”
“Thanks babe”, Jackie grinned, still a little out of breath. She looked down at you with an expression of satisfaction, “I think you’ve proved yourself, what do you think?”. You didn’t nod or speak, still too dazed from your mouth being buried in Jackie’s pussy.
“I think she’s earned it”, Shauna spoke for you, kissing you sweetly on the forehead.
The other girl hummed in agreement, “How do you want us baby?”. A million images instantly flashed into your head, all more vulgar than the last - the sad truth was you wanted too much. Wanted them too much.
“She’s always been indecisive, Jackie. Let’s just make her take what we give her, hmm? I’ve got a few ideas.” Shauna’s words made your head swim, a few ideas could mean anything.
“Such as?”, her best friend asked, the brunette simply smirked and moved in closer to the other so she could whisper something into her ear. You tried hard to listen to what she was saying but couldn’t hear anything over the pounding of your own heart.
The idea seemed to be a good one though as Jackie almost gasped with excitement as she turned to Shauna, “Oh, fuck, Shipman, you’re a kinky one aren’t you?”
The taller girl blushed to her friend’s delight, “Shut up”. Your eyes darted between them, what had Shauna suggested? The thoughts were interrupted as the midfielder began to take her flannel off, you bit your lip to keep from protesting, knowing seeing her bare chest would be worth the price to pay. To your surprise though she didn’t move to take off her bra, instead taking the shirt in her hands and adjusting the sleeves. Whilst she done that, Jackie got off of you and offered you a hand to help you get up.
“Get up and kneel”, she commanded once you were on your feet again.
You obeyed immediately and found yourself then kneeling on the floor of the attic, shaking with barely contained anticipation. Shauna stood only in her bra, the red item of clothing still in her hands, “Hands behind your back”. The young woman’s tone was blunter and more to the point than Jackie’s, less interested in teasing you and more interested in getting exactly what she wanted then & there.
A hint of confusion washed over you, but you trusted and obeyed her anyways, moving your hands behind your back. The two girls observed you with mischievous smiles, “She’d do anything we’d ask, huh?” Jackie mused, sitting and watching as Shauna stepped forward.
The brunette took the flannel and began to bind your wrists with it, using it as sort of makeshift rope. Oh, she was tying you up. The fact it was with the flannel made it even hotter, Jackie thought so too; “We really like when you wear that, you know? It looks sexy on you.” Shauna blushed, it was a common sight with how easily flustered she got but never failed to make you and Jackie both smile. You unfortunately couldn’t see her face though in that moment, your face turned towards the wall as your best friend tied you up. Once she was satisfied with how tight she had bound your wrists and walked around you, so you were at eye level with her very toned stomach.
Shauna’s abs were a godly sight and you had to keep your mouth closed shut, scared of saying something incredibly pathetic about how much you wanted her inside you. She tilted your head up so you were gazing at her face, “My eyes are up here”.
You turned red as Jackie laughed behind you from her position on the blankets. “C’mon, stop teasing us and just take your clothes off!”, your captain exclaimed, her tone was playful, but it was clear she was growing impatient. You couldn’t help but agree, you had spent all too long fantasising about what the brunette’s tits looked like.
Shauna rolled her eyes, but her hands moved to the back of her bra to unhook it. She let the black garment drop to the floor and your breath hitched, you could barely handle the sight of Jackie’s chest, let alone hers as well as Shauna’s. They were going to be the death of you.
“Wow”, Jackie’s eyes raked over her best friend’s nearly naked body, “I mean wow”. Her words summed up your thoughts about your teammate perfectly.
Shauna shot her a nervous but appreciative smile, before looking down at you. “What do you think?”, it was like an odd mirror of your interaction earlier - except instead of asking how your glasses looked on her, this time she was asking how she looked without anything but panties on.
“You look beautiful”, you struggled to say, her whole body seemed to thrum at your praise.
“Thank you, baby… now”, she began to speak, glancing over quickly at her captain, “I was hoping you’d show me how good you were with your mouth, I mean Jackie got to feel your tongue, so it’d be unfair if I didn’t.” You let out a breath, cursing the fact your hands were tied as you felt the need to steady yourself. Her words made you lightheaded with desire.
“Please let me”, you spoke, trying to not ramble. She grinned and kissed you, guiding you back to where Jackie sat.
Shauna laid down, moving so that you were kneeling in between her legs. Jackie got up and kneeled behind you, beginning to kiss your neck, “Shauna was also thinking that whilst you showed her how good you were with your mouth, I could make you feel good with my fingers. It’d be cruel to make you wait longer, right?”
The idea made you shiver and had appeared before in some of your wet dreams. Jackie’s fingers were long, you had always bet that they could reach all the places deep inside you that needed to be reached.
“What do you say baby?”, the brunette in front of you asked, looking at you both for approval.
“Okay”, you nodded desperately, Jackie smiled against your neck and reached a hand around your stomach, moving downwards towards the hem of your underwear.
Just as she was about to move her hand inside, she stilled and pulled away, “Actually, let’s see you make Shauna feel good a bit first, she needs to take those panties off.” You could see Shauna try to hold in a grin at how mean she was being to you, you took in a deep breath, trying not to cry.
“Can you take my panties off for me?”, your taller teammate asked you, moving her waist upwards so you could easily move the underwear down past her hips. You were going to joke that you couldn’t since your hands were tired (quite literally) but realised she hadn’t forgotten that. They meant they wanted you to take them off with your mouth. Jesus, had half the novels Shauna had been recommending you this entire time been erotica? Where did she get all these ideas from?
It wasn’t to say though that you were complaining, nodding, and wasting no time in getting them off with your teeth. Once they were off both you and Jackie let out a noise at the sight of her, yours more a whine, hers more of a groan.
“Shit, baby, I’m jealous you’re going to get to taste her”, Jackie told you, trailing her tongue lightly against your pulse point. You squirmed at the words as well as the sensation, as they put the idea of Jackie eating out Shauna into your head. You prayed to whatever God that was listening that there was a chance you could see that in the future, no matter what happened to you guys out there after that, you’d die happy.
Shauna leaned her head back against the pillows, “Don’t worry you’ll get your chance”, she told her so matter-of-factly it made your stomach tingle.
Captain Taylor pulled away from your neck, “Good”, her reply was blunt, but you could tell on the inside she was ecstatic. Who wouldn’t be excited at the idea of a chance to eat out Shauna Shipman? You certainly were.
“Bend over then and tongue fuck her, or are you going to stay there all day?”, Jackie moved back and was growing impatient by the second. You were a little nervous but weren’t taking your time on purpose, just more in awe at the sight of a very naked Shauna Shipman, you liked it when your captain snapped at you though.
Shuffling back a little, you bent down so your face was in front of Shauna’s cunt. The brunette let out a half moan, half sigh as you licked a long stripe from her entrance all the way up to the top of her swollen clit. “I’d let you use your fingers on me too, pretty girl, but I really like the sight of you tied up. Bet Jackie does too.”
Jackie hummed in agreement, letting one of her hands trail across your ass. She was itching to get her fingers inside of you, but didn’t want to let you know that. Suddenly, the sound of a loud slap rang across the room as Jackie’s hand connected with the left side of your ass.
“Fuck”, you cried out, voice somewhat muffled by your best friend’s soaked core.
Shauna barked a laugh, “Oh fuck, she likes that, hit her again.” The striker slapped you again, the brunette in front of you closed her eyes and savoured the sound of Jackie’s palm making contact with your soft flesh. There was no denying your teammate had a hunger for violence, from her dangerous plays on the pitch, to her short temper and tendency to get into fights. So, there was little surprise when the discovery was made that Shauna Shipman was a bit of a sadist in the bedroom.
Jackie regarded the sight with equal lust and fascination, she was excited to figure out all the things that really made you melt. Things that would make you squirm, all your weaknesses that would make you do anything she asked you to. That would make you hers.
“Suck on my clit, baby”, Shauna moaned, her hips bucking up so her cunt could meet your mouth. You did as she said, taking her clit in your mouth and sucking firmly, your hands desperate to move around to her pussy, but the efforts in trying to untie the flannel were futile. Plus, you couldn’t risk ripping the fabric of that thing, it was the best thing in Shipman’s entire closet.
Shauna tasted amazing; they both did. You came to the realisation that you could do this for hours, days even, if they’d just let you.
“Do you want my fingers now?”, Jackie asked, watching as Shauna whined and writhed under your mouth’s ministrations. You pulled away for just a second to answer your captain with a plea, but Shauna still groaned in protest and grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling you back down again. She never was patient.
Jackie took a hold of the hem of your underwear, pulling them down, she was going to ask you to move so she could take them fully off, but glanced at the almost feral expression that Shauna had and decided otherwise. If you were taken away from her at that moment the brunette would’ve most likely committed murder.
Jackie took in the sight of you and sighed, “God, you’re so fucking pretty”. The praise made your heart flutter and heat flood in between your legs, which were trembling from sheer desperation and adrenaline. You wanted badly to thank her, but your tongue was too preoccupied moving inside Shauna. It seemed you had found her sweet spot, as she began to squirm even more, her gasps and moans rising rapidly.
“Jesus, Shipman, you’re already close and I haven’t even stuck a finger inside of her yet. Don’t you want to cum together?.” Her words made you smile, it seemed like you really were good at getting them off, it made pride swell inside your chest. From now on, your biggest achievements weren’t going to be soccer championships, perfect test results, or all of that crap. They were going to be how fast you had made Shauna and her equally sexy best friend cum.
“Uh, fuck- “, the midfielder was about to retort something back but was cut off as you began to suck on her clit again, “I recall you didn’t l-last that long either, bitch.” Ah, she could deliver a good come back even in the midst of being given oral, your admiration for Shauna grew daily. The sting of the insult was mainly lost though this time as her voice shook, it was slightly shameful how something that felt like a bolt of electricity shot straight down to your core when you heard Shauna say the word “bitch” too.
Jackie seemed to notice your reaction, “Oh”, she laughed, a hand palming your now bare ass.
“What?”, the other grunted, breathing getting heavier as you took all the wetness she gave you.
“She seemed to like it when you called me a bitch”, the shorter girl said, soft fingertips trailing down to ever so gently brush against your slit.
“Of course she did, the little slut.” Shauna teased, she began to pinch her own nipples, rocking her hips upwards as you got her off with your tongue.
“Gosh, she’s pathetic”, Jackie breathed out, tone half fond and half in awe as her finger moved down and under to slowly circle your throbbing clit.
“Good with her mouth though”, the other replied. She had certainly found a great way to pass the time in the middle of nowhere. Shit, even if you guys were back in civilisation your tongue was certainly something Shauna would forgo a study session at yours for.
Your captain finally showed you mercy as she applied pressure directly onto your sensitive bud, moaning into Shauna’s pussy, you shifted so that by some luck her finger would be pushed into you.
“Want me inside?”, Jackie asked, begrudgingly moving her hand to tease you further, nearly as worked up as you were from all the teasing. Keyword: nearly, the lucky bitch had already came, she was already wet again though. Your captain knew you couldn’t reply, she was asking not for an answer, but to rile you up even further, she wanted to see you to beg for it.
“She’s been a good girl, Jackie, just fucking give her what she needs”, Shauna said, you knew she was only defending you because she was desperate to cum and right then only your tongue could get her there. If the brunette wasn’t so desperate, she’d definitely tease you along with her best friend.
There definitely was something stirring about her calling you a good girl though, since you were academic rivals as well as close friends, compliments from Shauna were scarce, the sappy side of her only coming out when she was drunk. You knew she loved you both, and knew that she cared, she just usually showed it in quieter, more subtle ways. Like driving you to and from school, picking up your favourite snacks, and always bringing an extra pen in case you needed to borrow it during the English class you shared together.
It seemed Jackie had agreed with the other girl’s statement as soon you could feel her index and middle finger enter you slowly. You moved back onto her steadily, she grabbed a hold of where your hands were tied together with Shauna’s flannel and used it to pull you onto her long fingers, controlling how fast or how slow the drag of them inside you was. “Shit, you’re so wet”, she whimpered.
Your tongue flicked against Shauna’s clit as Jackie let go of your tied wrists to play with yours. “You’re so good at eating me out baby”, the brunette praised, moving some of your hair out of your face, not wanting it to get in the way and bother you. The way she was caressing your face made you feel loved, it was a feeling that burrowed itself deep inside your chest. “I’m gonna cum”, the midfielder whimpered, basically riding your face now. You desperately needed to breathe but didn’t dare pull away - scared that you’d ruin her orgasm.
Plus who needed oxygen anyway? Your best friend’s pleasure was way more important than breathing.
Shauna came with a scream, her thighs keeping your head there as her cum flooded your mouth. God, even then you wanted more, it was scary to think you might never be sated no matter how many times she came. You eased up a little and licked her gently as she felt the aftershocks of her orgasm, moaning as the dark blonde girl’s fingers still worked inside you.
“Fuck”, Jackie groaned and to your disappointment, stopped moving her fingers, “that was like the hottest thing I’ve ever seen”. The other girl laughed, very much dazed and out of breath. You kissed Shauna a few times on her clit and inner thighs before deeming it okay to move your head away. You caught your breath as you rested your forehead against her thigh.
“You done so well baby”, the taller girl muttered, eyes closed as she ran a hand through your hair.
“Thank you”, you said, trying not to smile. You would’ve let the compliment override your brain completely, however your mind still was preoccupied with Jackie’s fingers that were still inside you.
“No, thank you”, Shauna’s voice was soft, “Babe, stop being so mean and let her cum - she deserves it”, she continued. The post orgasmic daze was making her softer, it seemed.
Jackie huffed fondly, taking the opportunity quickly to help you remove your underwear fully. They joined the pile of other clothes on the attic floor. “You’re going soft, Shipman. Of course she deserves to cum, but it’s fun to play with her”. With the words ‘play with her’, the striker began to move again and curled her fingers upwards deep inside you. You let out a strangled moan against Shauna’s thigh.
“There we go”, Jackie cooed, moving her other hand around so she could continue to play with your clit. It was as if she had done this before to someone else, as she knew exactly where to put pressure and where to just graze gently. The thought of either of them with anyone else made jealousy burn hot in your blood, pushing away the thought, you focused on what was happening now. Shauna observed a few moments longer before getting up so that she was sitting in front of you, holding you up, she kissed you soundly, groaning as she tasted herself on your tongue.
“You’ve wanted this for so long, haven’t you?” Shauna asked as Jackie put more pressure against your clit, rubbing small circles as the fingers of her other hand reached near your g spot.
You nodded, struggling to speak, a flurry of whimpers escaped your mouth as the sound of Jackie fingering you rang out across the room. The three of you knew the girls downstairs had definitely heard at least one of you by now, but you didn’t care, the only things on your mind were Jackie, who was now hitting your g spot, and Shauna, whose tongue you took into your mouth greedily. “God, you’ve always belonged to us”, Jackie spoke this time, her voice was unlike you had ever heard, it was as if something raw and primal was rising in her throat.
“Even before now as we’re fucking you”, she continued, every thrust of her fingers causing the familiar sensation in the bottom of your stomach to tighten. “I bet you’ve been waiting for us to do this, huh? Waiting around, following us everywhere like a lost little puppy, hoping we’d fucking notice you and just-“, she groaned as she felt you tighten around her fingers, “just fucking wreck you. We’ve ruined you for everyone else, haven’t we?” Her words made you melt into a puddle of desperation.
Shauna pulled away from your mouth, you could tell by the expression on her face that she absolutely loved the things her best friend was saying. “Shit, you’re right”, the brunette agreed, “I wanna know how many times you’ve touched yourself thinking of us baby, I wanna know when you do it.” She was practically whispering into your ear now, filthy words only you and Jackie could hear. “Every time after practice? When you see us in our soccer kits and just can’t help yourself? After we hang out or after our study sessions? I bet you’ve imagined me just swiping all the fucking flashcards off our desk and throwing you on there instead”.
Jackie laughed. “I wish that was on the biology curriculum, wanna let everyone know your ours”.
It seemed as if Shauna was working herself up again with the things she was saying: “I bet you’d love us to fuck you all in front of all of them downstairs, hmm? Let Tai and Lottie and the rest of them know you belong to us”.
At her words, and the mention of your teammates (who, despite your heart belonging to the two girls you were with, you were also desperately attracted to), you let out an obscene sound which could be only described as you losing whatever shred of self-respect you had left. Moving back and forth on Jackie’s fingers, you leaned forward and crushed Shauna’s mouth against your own, not only needing to feel her lips against your own and her tongue in your mouth. But to also get her to shut up because if she kept saying things like that, you’d either cum embarrassingly quickly or pass out and die.
Your efforts proved futile though as Jackie kept hitting places deep inside you that you didn’t even know existed. “Are you close?”, she teased, knowing you were about to cum all over her hand. Whining against Shauna’s mouth, you tried to squeeze your thighs and keep her hand there, knowing what she was probably going to do next. Just as you reached the edge, you felt her pull out of you. Her laughter rang in your ears as you teared up with frustration.
“Fuck, Jackie, that was so mean”, Shauna’s words seemed angry, but she was laughing, secretly just as deliciously cruel as her best friend.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it was just too tempting,” she apologised to both you and Shauna, knowing how much you had wanted to cum, and also knowing how much Shauna had wanted to watch you cum. Mainly to you though, as she could definitely see how wet you were from her position kneeling on the floor behind you.
“Please”, you pleaded, “I need you inside me, Jackie.” She let out a sigh of affection, rubbing your back a little whilst she contemplated whether she was going to let you cum this time, or be even crueller and deny you for a second time.
“Fine, my sweet girl. You’ve got me going soft for you, so better appreciate it.” She entered you again, instantly pressing up against a spot she knew drove you wild. You rambled gratitude to her as she used the fingers of her other hand to flick your clit.
Shauna peppered kisses across your face, glad that her best friend had finally decided to show you some mercy. “You’re taking her fingers so well, my love”, the midfielder said, grasping your face gently with both hands. You seemed to melt under both of their touches, Jackie’s more so literally as wetness ran down your inner thighs.
You were close again already, struggling to not cry out so loud the entire wilderness could hear you. The girl in front of you helped muffle your desperate whimpers as she kissed you again on the mouth with so much fervour your teeth nearly knocked together.
“Back onto me, yeah, just like that”, you could hear Jackie demand. “Cum for me, please, fucking cum all over my hand baby”, she was begging now.
The words sent you tumbling over the edge and your vision nearly went blurry as you came all over Jackie’s hand, your wetness running down her forearm. Shauna had to hold you gently to keep you steady, so you didn’t fall face-first onto the floor, she chuckled and kept kissing you to drown out your moans.
The striker ceased her ministrations on your clit, not wanting you to become oversensitive to the point of pain, instead fingering you slowly as you came down from your orgasm. “That’s it”, she gently guided you, running a hand up and down your back as Shauna kissed your forehead sweetly. A few moments were taken as you caught your breath, basically sandwiched between them.
When you seemed steady enough, Jackie pulled out of you and moved to untie your hands. You grunted as you stretched them behind your back in relief, trying not to grin as you realised that meant you could now pull her and Shauna closer to you. You, having grown a lot bolder, sat up and reached behind you, gesturing for Jackie to come and kiss you from behind.
She did as you had hoped, wrapping her arms around your waist she placed a kiss against your neck, kissing her way up to your cheek and then across to your mouth. Soon you could feel Shauna’s mouth on you too, kissing your cheek sweetly, Jackie pulled away so that the brunette could kiss your lips too.
“Well shit, that was fun.” Jackie laughed, Shauna moved from you and captured Jackie’s mouth with her own. They kissed with closed mouths for a minute or so before Shauna got impatient and opened her mouth so she could feel Jackie’s tongue against her own. The sight of them together made your heart swell, a pang of regret seized you that you didn’t get to see them make each other cum, but that was quickly soothed realising that tonight was about you. You’d get plenty of opportunities to see them together in the future.
“Sure was. What did you think baby? You enjoy that?”, Shauna asked you, you lowered your head, flushing.
They laughed, “Don’t act all shy now”, Jackie teased. You didn’t reply, fearing that if you opened your mouth, you’d say something incredibly cheesy.
“The girls are all probably asleep, we need to get some sleep too I think.” Shauna’s voice was gentle as she pulled away from you both and stood up, gathering all your discarded clothes as well as her red flannel that had been untied from your wrists. She took some time folding them neatly as you and Jackie sat as she held you.
You were secretly glad that they didn’t seem to be making a move to put anything on, you enjoyed the quiet intimacy of being naked around one another. Your confidence still wasn’t ideal, but they had just proved to you that they loved every part of you no matter what. You could tell Jackie felt the same way too, with the quiet way she had kept looking down at her body when she had first taken her clothes off. She acted confident but she was just like any other young woman.
It was relieving to believe someone when they told you they loved you, let alone two someones. That night when you, Jackie, and Shauna fell asleep in each other arms, not even the dread of tomorrow could creep into your chest, as it was already full of love and comfort and a warmth so unfamiliar it made you want to cry.
The next morning wasn’t much different than usual, except for the fact all of the girls couldn’t stop staring at you, when you would catch their eye, they’d look away quickly as if they were embarrassed.
Shit, they had definitely all heard you three.
a/n: welp, that's it for now goobers, tune in for part two (and possibly three ;))
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#jackie taylor x reader#jackieshauna#jackieshauna fic#jackieshauna x reader#shaunajackie#jackie x shauna#shauna shipman x reader#shauna sadecki x reader#jackie taylor#shauna shipman#yellowjackets fic#yellowjackets#yellowjackets x reader#yellowjackets x you#jackieshauna x you#jackie taylor x you#shauna shipman x you#wlw#sapphic#smut#fluff#angst#polyamory#im gay btw#i love women#fanfiction#ao3 fanfic
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some of you should know how to tag better. please
#christ#like do and write whatever you want i genuinely encourage it#but please tag correctly#ive curated my little fandom bubble on tumblr so carefully i was genuiney in shock ahdhfjdjdkk#like. it was a Long Time Ago something genuinely triggered me and made me uncomfortable#its fine tho and i blocked the person and like. im not trying to fault them for writing it#and exploring whatever they want to explore#but dear god tag correctly if you’re gonna write and post r*pe fantasies#better yet post all of it under the cut maybe#just. i feel so dumb. but ive been so uncomfy and affected by it for like hours now#JUST TAG CORRECTLY!!! OR POST THE ENTIRE THING UNDER THE CUT!!!#YOU CAN WRITE AND POST WHATEVER YOU WANT JUST PLEASE. BE AWARE OF WHAT YOU’RE POSTING AND HOW YOU’RE PRESENTING IT#lord knows i dabble in problematic ships too but id like to think im being mindful in how i post#and if im not feel free to tell me so
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#bonus under the cut getting that snout facing right at the camera#camerupt#early 2000s animation cow‚ apparently. that's what someone just said about the bonus image. i honestly never understood this thing's name#i always thought it was pretty obviously a cow. but then its name implies camel. camel erupt. camerupt. is there a specific kind of#camel that just looks like a cow?? or. what. or am i just misremembering what camels look like#either way‚ i still think this pokémon is pretty cool‚ but i don't really use it ever in my own playthroughs. i don't think i *ever* have#not even in pokémon colosseum where i'm pretty sure you can get a shadow numel at some point. bc i already had a fire-type#not sure which one it was but it was definitely one of them. maybe cyndaquil? because of the dudes with the johto starters#that you fight near the beginning in pppp uuuhhh the PHENAC city i couldn't remember the name. for a second there.#i wasn't aware as a kid that their outfits corresponded to the type of the starter they had and also that you could only fight one of them#i think as a kid i was under the impression that there was only the one. for some reason i remember fighting the green one#oh wait they have the second-evos yeah. cuz he had bayleef. and the red one would've had quilava. not cyndaquil#ugh my memory is not very good evidently. i'm writing these tags after work. normally i do them right when i wake up but this time i just#do not have an excuse for not being able to remember shit. this is just on me. maybe it's amplified by the fact that i have yet to eat today#which i have a very bad habit of doing. forgetting to eat all day and not eating until like 5 and then that being my only meal for the day#i'm trynna get better about it but it is Not easy for some reason. for something that should be decidedly very simple#but my brain doesn't often let me eat until i've completed all of my silly little Tasks. so. idk. this will however post the day after i've#arrived back home from my trip which is nice. the first time future me will be sleeping in her own bed again. good luck again future me#you might need it
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OOC;; Hi hi hi. A little heads up that I have changed some terms on my rules and moved them around a little bit. More ingo info under cut* (false advertisement at its finest):
Very brief mentions of intrapersonal drama (it's me, myself and I). You have been lovingly warned;
When I started the blog, I wanted no harassment and no drama. However, bringing the term "proship" brought more drama than I ever expected. I am anti-harassment: I just block and move on and I feel saddened by people receiving death threats or harassment /cyberbullying on internet. However, the term got its bad associations, and I want to make true to my "no fandom drama" mission. So;;
Moving forward, I am just anti-harassment. Nothing more, nothing less.
And, since I had bad experiences unfortunately, I would like to mention briefly that please please please, if we are friends you can ask me if I am available before venting to me, but do not bring me drama. I am not equipped to deal with it. I just want to write my dear train man /or evil scientist over at @/sadaolim. I have stress-induced stuff flare up on three occasions, so I want to mention this.
As usual, thanks for reading, thank you all so much for sticking around, I am just a small guy (gender-neutral??) who is writing funny train man initially to explore my gender identity as well. Em's self-discovery and writing my gremlin trans twins makes me happy. I just want to spread joy and silly shenanigans.
Love you all so much. Here's a promised Ingo// not one but TWO, don't say I never spoil you guys:
#ooc;; out of station#//it's not even pride month yet and rain is coming out? more at e mmetrain dot tumblr#//look.... i am trans but the flavor of transness escape me.... last year i was like#//hey i might be trans male.... what better way to try that out with another trans chara...#//and i still have not decided but like.... hmmmm#//this post is not about me coming out however pfffffff#//just addressing a term change in my rules#//more ingo under cut aND I DELIVERED IT#//very sorry to all mutuals and non-moots of the community for like.. bringing drama accidentally? this new term is better#//if you read this far on my tag ramblings: i might try using he/him... maybe..... maaaaaybe....#//so... now we are two people who knows this fact. hi. ilu.
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DPxDC Police Officer Wes
"Excuse me, sorry, Mr. Batman, sir!"
That's definitely not a voice he knows. Bruce halts in his steps, aborting his usual retreat into the shadows, and turns back around. Commissioner Gordon, who was still in the process of wrapping up his small talk with Tim - the term 'grumpy banter' would describe their conversation more accurately at this point, but Bruce knows better than to argue with the two over semantics - also turns around, pausing in the middle of the sentence.
A ginger haired boy, wide-eyed and obviously either nervous, starstruck, or both, is staring at him from a few feet behind the Commissioner. Bruce can see a few more faces peeking from behind the half-opened door to the roof, all of them filled with anticipation. He knows two of them: detectives that work directly under Gordon, Isaiah Vasquez, and Tasha Kuznets. The third one, a black man in his forties, also looks vaguely familiar, but Bruce can't recall a name.
Yet, he knows absolutely nothing about the ginger, who hasn't blinked once since Bruce noticed him and is now biting on his lips. But he is wearing a police uniform, so, possibly, a new hire?
"Weston, get out," Jim sighs, waving a shooing hand at the boy with a look of barely concealed exasperation on his face. Definitely a new hire, then. That's the level of annoyance he reserves only for the overachieving rookies that he begrudgingly likes but never admits to.
"I-" newly named Weston starts but cuts himself off. Then, he takes a deep breath and straightens up, "Just one question, sir!"
"Weston, I swear to God," Commissioner pinches the bridge of his nose, lifting his glasses up a bit. But Tim tilts his head to the side, looking in the ginger's direction and raising his eyebrows. His domino mask hides it, but Bruce knows his menagerie of kids well enough to see that he is at least a bit curious about the boy. So he turns back around fully and inclines his head, giving Weston his attention. He doesn't mind talking with those rare few members of GCPD that Gordon likes.
Weston perks up like a very eager dog at the sight of a treat. In the contrast lighting of the BatSignal, his hair looks like it's on fire.
"If you don't mind, was the 'Smiling case' relevant to Joker in any sense?" The boy asks, loud and clear - maybe even too loud - with his unblinking gaze still glued to Bruce. Like he is afraid that if he closes his eyes for a moment, Gotham's vigilantes are going to disappear without a trace.
It's not a question Bruce expected, to be honest. The 'Smiling case' was closed just a few days ago, Gordon was still not done with the paperwork, as far as Oracle's records went. A murder of three, where all victims had some badly drawn clown makeup on them - post-mortem makeup, as it turned out, the murderer tried to deceive the investigation by trying to cover it up as Joker's doing. Only, he didn't do a good job at it, all the Bats were way too familiar with the Mad Clown's signature style. Not to mention that Joker was still securely sealed in his Arkham cell.
Bruce turns to look at Red Robin. He was the one working on the case, so Bruce gives him the choice of answering or not. Tim jerks his shoulder, looks the ginger boy up and down, and then shakes his head.
"Aside from a poor attempt at leading the investigation in the wrong direction, no, it wasn't," Tim shrugs, "The guy isn't even a Gothamite, he knew of Joker only from the rumors and media. And the clown faces were a makeshift cover-up."
Weston visibly deflates at the answer. Bruce watches in a slight amusement as Tasha nudges the other officer, one he doesn't remember the name of, in the shoulder, and stage-whispers, "Pay up." The older man huffs and disappears behind the door, followed by Isaiah.
"Thank you, Mr. Red Robin," Wesley nods politely and takes a step back, his eyes darting to Gordon. Tim snorts a laugh but doesn't correct him. Commissioner, though, gives the boy a long, dreadful sigh.
"Is that all, officer Weston?" He asks, not even bothering to hide his 'tired dad' voice.
The ginger nods again, "Yes, Commissioner Gordon."
"Then get out of my sight before I make all your shifts double," Jim commands, and Weston nearly runs back to the door with a speed that makes Bruce involuntarily think of speedsters. Must be the red hair.
Tim turns to look at the Commissioner right as the door to the roof slams shut behind both Weston and Kuznets.
"Who is he?"
Bruce is also a bit curious now. New recruits in the GCPD are nothing out of the ordinary, but Jim seems to know this one personally, and Kuznets, who is one of his trusted detectives, seems to also like the officer.
Gordon briefly huffs and stuffs his hands in the pockets of his coat. It's quite chilly today; Bruce makes a mental note to switch everyone to their more insulated suits. Scarecrow is currently out on the loose. It won't do any good if any of the Bats went down with a cold.
"Wesley Weston, fresh out of the Academy," Commissioner sighs, but, somehow, Bruce gets the impression it's not a sound of simple exasperation over a new officer eager to prove himself. Jim proves his assumptions by looking around the shoulder to make sure the door to the roof is still closed, and continuing, "Born and raised in the middle of nowhere, Illinois, but GCPD was his first choice. He explained it as having a few friends living in the city, which, unfortunately, proved to be right."
Bruce frowns and grunts, alarm bells ringing in his mind. Deliberately choosing to work in Gotham despite not being from here can be caused by many reasons, and nearly none of them are good reasons.
"Unfortunately?" Tim inquires suspiciously, also with a slight frown, but Jim waves them both off.
"No, he's got nothing to do with any of the criminals. It was the first thing I checked when he mentioned 'friends'. If anything, he's quite on the opposite; he'd make a great detective one day, what with his countless conspiracy theories, determination and the insane urge to dig up every single detail known to mankind," he laughs a bit, and Bruce notices a slight, teasing twinkle to the Commissioner's eyes behind his glasses. "On his second day here, the boy went and plain told me he knows that Batman is Bruce Wayne and that he's saying that because he knows I know and he is aware we're working together."
The alarm bells in Bruce's mind turn into sirens. They never discussed the matters of Bats' real identities with Gordon - Bruce had his suspicions that the man knew it and simply kept his status quo. In all fairness, James Gordon didn't make it to Gotham's Commissioner by sheer dumb luck, so all the Bats kind of expected him to figure it out one day.
But Jim knowing who's behind the cowl is one thing. A new, out of town officer is quite another.
"What did you answer?" Tim asks with an easy smile, but Bruce sees the barely noticeable tension in his shoulders.
Gordon nearly grins, "I didn't believe him, which turned out to be exactly what he expected. He also told me of some kind of a familial curse - he called it 'Cassandra's curse', I believe you're aware of what it means. And then, when I naturally expressed my doubts, proceeded to show it in action. Believe me, it works. Sometimes, it even works too well," the man looks to the side with an amused huff, "That's why officer Weston is strictly prohibited from voicing his opinions on any of the ongoing cases outloud. Detective Kuznets almost missed some critical evidence because of his input once."
Cassandra's curse, Bruce has heard of that saying before. Granted, he never thought it could be a real thing, and he is not intending on starting now, not before he investigates the matter thoroughly. But he does trust Jim - years and years of working together would do that to people - so he simply nods in understanding, leaving the matter of supernatural aside for now.
"What about his friends?" Red Robin asks again, and that causes Gordon to wince momentarily.
"That, I believe, was the cause of his performance just now. One of his friends runs an occult shop, and the other one loves to hang around our forensic scientists and coroners occasionally," the man waves their immediate frowns off again, "I don't go into the morgue often, but I heard he's good at finding out the causes of death by a few looks at the body. And they run a lot of bets between them three," Jim shrugs nonchalantly, "The last one was about the 'Smiling case', I take it."
"Any reason to worry about them?" Bruce can't help but ask. It's not unusual for people to be weird in this city, and running an occult shop and hanging out with pathologists are not exactly reasons to go through background checks when they've got much more pressing issues on their plate. Namely, Scarecrow: it's been more than a week since his escape, but none of the Bats have heard anything about him yet. Oracle is already busy enough with that and the current uprise of gang activity in the Narrows, there's no point in piling even more work on her shoulders just because of some gossip that rubs Bruce the wrong way.
Gordon, thankfully, doesn't take his question lightly and pauses, scratching his chin.
"No," he finally concludes after some thought, "They are a bit strange for non-Gothamites, I'll say that, but in terms of this city? They are no stranger than my neighbors from upstairs." Gordon doesn't tell them to leave it alone, Bruce notices. However, it's probably not because of any doubts he has; the Bats just have a habit of tripplechecking everything anyways, and who would know that better than Jim Gordon?
A quick glance to Tim proves Bruce's thoughts. Red Robin, despite the mask, looks thoughtful. How many cases is he already working on, seven? Bruce makes another mental note to ask Alfred to cut his caffeine intake. It might be a bit hypocritical of him, what with his own plans to send a few messages to JLD about the 'Cassandra's curse', but Bruce excuses himself as the adult in the family.
Commissioner Gordon clears his throat.
"Do you want me to turn around so you can make your mysterious escape, or-" he starts, but both vigilantes are already gone by the time he finishes, "-or not, okay."
#dpxdc#dc x dp#batman#tim drake#red robin#wesley weston#wes weston#police officer!wes#jim gordon#commisioner gordon#bruce wayne#from a fic i never wrote#and will not write#feel free to use#cork prompts#it turned out longer than i thought#cassandras curse
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So why do you hate the advertising industry?
Hokay so.
Let me preface this with some personal history. It's not relevant to the sins of the advertising industry perse but it illustrates how I started to grow to hate it.
I wanted to be a veterinarian growing up, but to be a vet you basically have to be good enough to get into medical school. I do not have the math chops or discipline to make it in medical school. I went into art instead, and in a desperate attempt to find some commercial viability that didn't involve moving to California, I went into graphic design.
I've been a graphic designer for about seven or eight years now and I've worn a lot of hats. One of them was working in a print shop. Now, the print shop had a lot of corporate customers who had various ad campaigns. One of them was Gate City Bank, which had a bigass stack of postcards ordered every couple months to mail to their customers.
Now, paper comes from Dakota Paper, and they make their paper the usual way. Somewhere far, far from our treeless plain there is a forest of tall trees. These trees are cut down and put on big fossil fuel burning trucks and hauled to a paper mill that turns them into pulp while spewing the most fowl odors imaginable over the neighboring town and loads the pulp up with bleach to give it a nice white color.
Then the paper is put on yet another big truck and hauled off to the local paper depot, then put on another big truck and delivered to my print shop, where I turned the paper into postcards telling people to go even deeper into debt to buy a boat because it's almost summer. The inks used are a type of nasty heat sensitive plastic that is melted to the surface of the paper with heat. Then the postcards are put on yet ANOTHER truck and sent to the bank, which puts them on ANOTHER truck and finally into the hands of their customers, who open their mail and take one look at the post card and immediately discard it.
Heaps and heaps and literal hundreds of pounds of literal garbage created at the whim of the marketing team several times a year. And thats just one bank in one city.
I came to realize very quickly that graphic design was the delicate art of turning trees into junk mail.
And wouldn't you know it there are a TON of companies that basically only do junk mail. Many of them operate under the guise of a "charity," sending you pictures of suffering children or animals and begging for handouts and when they get those handouts the executives take a nice fat cut, give some small token amount to whatever cause they pay lip service to, and then put the rest of the cash right back into making more mailers. "Direct mail marketing" they call it.
Oh but maybe it's not so bad, you can advertise online after all. Now that there's decent ad blocker out there and better anti-virus ads usually don't destroy your computer anymore just by existing.
Except now when I search for the exact business I want on Google it's buried under three or four different "promoted search items" tricking me into clicking on them only to shoot themselves in the foot because I searched for the specific result I wanted for a reason and couldn't use those other websites even if I felt like it.
And now we have advertising on YouTube and on every streaming service, forcing more and more eyes onto the ad for the brand new Buick Envision that parks itself because you're too stupid to do it on your own.
Oh thats ok maybe I'll get Spotify premium and go ad free and listen to some podcasts- SIKE we have the hosts of your show doing the song and dance now. Are you depressed and paranoid from listening to my true crime podcast about murdered and mutilated teenagers? That's ok, my sponsor Better Help can keep you sane enough to stay alive and spend more money.
It's gotten so terrible that now you have content farms, huge hubs of shell companies that crank out video after video to get more and more precious clicks. Which if the videos were innocuous maybe that wouldn't be so awful except now you have cooking hacks that can actually burn your house down and craft hacks that can electrocute you being flung into your eyes at the speed of mach fuck so some slimy internet clickbait jockey doesn't need to get a real job.
It of course goes without saying that animals are also relentlessly exploited by clickbait companies that will put them in compromising situations on purpose to create a fake fishing hack video or even just straight up killing them for sport by feeding small animals to a pufferfish that rips them apart for the camera.
And all of this, ALL of this doesn't even touch how adveritising is the death of art in general. Queer topics, any kind of interesting art, any kind of sex or substance use topics are scrubbed clean and hidden at the behest of advertisers.
Sex education, a nude statue, topics such as racism or sexism or bigotry in general have tags purged or hidden from search, even life saving information about SDTs or drug use, because if someone saw that and complained then Verizon might sell fewer tablets and we can't fucking have that.
Conservative talking heads often bitch and moan that they're being censored on social media. The stupid part is, they're right! They are being censored! But it's not by a woke mob, it's by ATT and Coca Cola not wanting their adspace sharing screen time with their stupid fucking opinions.
However, they won't ever figure that out, because the talking heads they get their marching orders from like Tucker and Jones ALSO rely on the sweet milk flowing from the sponsorship teat and they aren't about to turn on their meal ticket so they have to come up with even stupider shit to say for the train to continue rolling.
I managed to rant this far without even getting into the ads I see for the beauty industry. The other day a botox ad described wrinkles as "moderate to severe crows feet" as if wrinkles are a symptom of a fucking serious disease! Like having a flaw in your skin is a medical problem that you need thousands of dollars of literal botulism toxin to fix! I was incandescent with anger.
Advertising is a polluting, censoring, anti educational and anti art industry at it's very core. It destroys human connections, suppresses human thought and makes us hate our own bodies. It ads no value, actively detracts from value, and serves no real purpose and I believe it should be almost if not entirely banned.
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Sugar, spice, and everything nice (Part 1)
Hot, rich, lawyer Agatha comes into the bakery where you work and she takes quite an interest in you (or Sugar mommy Agatha)
Word count: 2000
Warnings: none yet
A/N: hope you guys like this one!
The bakery is always dead on Sunday afternoons.
You’re not really sure why, maybe people are getting ready for the week or something, but it seems that in the town of Westview, no one craves sweets on Sundays.
You’re not complaining, though. That just means you get to sit in an empty store and scroll on your phone and still get paid.
Working at the bakery part time was a nice way to make some money while you finish up college, and to be honest, you did really like it. Your coworkers were all super nice and it wasn’t a very demanding job either.
And then the bell on the door rings. You look up from your phone, startled.
It’s a woman that you’ve never seen before.
She’s wearing a tight white blouse under a brown blazer and smart gray pants. Her long, dark hair flows freely over one shoulder and her pale skin and blue eyes are striking. She is attractive.
It doesn’t help that you’ve always had a thing for older women.
“Hi,” she says, coming to a stop in front of the counter.
“Hi, what can I get for you today?” You ask the rehearsed question. You wouldn’t be surprised if you said it in your sleep at this point.
“What do you recommend?”
You’re not even sure she’s looked at the menu that’s posted above the counter. “Depends on what you like. We have cupcakes, cake, pastries. It’s all good. What are you in the mood for?”
You might be imagining it, but it really seems like her eyes rake up and down your body. She shrugs noncommittally. “Something fresh, something…sweet.” You swallow hard at the glint of heat in her eyes.
“I just took a batch of cupcakes out of the oven,” you say. “Do you like red velvet?”
“Sure, hon. I’ll take three,” she says. You smile wearily and get to work packaging them up. She watches you the whole time.
You ring up the purchase on the register and clear your throat. “That’ll be $7.50.” She smirks and pulls out her wallet, flipping through bills. She pulls one out and hands it to you and your mouth falls open.
It's $50.
“Keep the change,” she says with a wink. She grabs the box and walks swiftly out of the bakery.
You assume it’s a one-time thing and pocket the extra money. You secretly hope she comes back though.
And sure enough, she struts back in three days later, dressed just as nicely as she was the first time. You’re working the morning shift before your afternoon class and you are sipping on a desperately needed cup of coffee. She must be really rich, you think as she walks up, a smile playing on her lips.
“Morning, hon,” she says.
“Good morning, how are you doing today?”
“Better now,” she replies and you can feel your cheeks getting hotter. “Can I get an espresso and a piece of cinnamon crumb cake?”
“Of course. Anything else?”
She raises an eyebrow teasingly like she wants to make a joke but says, “That’s all, dear. Thank you.”
“Your total comes to $8.75,” you tell her. “For here or to-go?”
“For here, please.”
“I’ll get you the cake and then the coffee will be ready soon.”
When you turn back with the piece of cake on a plate, she’s holding another $50 bill between her fingers.
“Oh, I can’t–” She cuts you off by putting it into your uniform shirt pocket and pats it. You freeze with her hand basically touching your boob. She smirks and takes the plate from your hand and goes to sit in a corner booth. You don’t allow yourself to look at her as you make her espresso.
She’s on her phone when you walk over to her, but she looks up earnestly when you put the cup down in front of her.
“Here’s your coffee,” you say and you’re turning around to go back behind the counter when she touches your wrist.
“Why don’t you sit down?” She asks, and it’s clear she’s not asking. And even if she was, she’s tipped you almost more than you make in a day on two separate occasions. You plop down on the other side of the table. “How do you like working here?”
“Oh, um, it’s nice. I enjoy it. Plus we get dessert for free so can’t complain,” you say, a little surprised by the question.
“Are you still in college?”
“Yeah, I’m graduating in the spring.” She nods like she’s deep in thought. “What do you do?”
“I’m a lawyer,” she answers, confidence oozing from her voice. Her tipping so much makes a lot more sense now. You launch into a series of questions, absolutely fascinated by her words, and she gives you everything you want.
You’re so engrossed in her stories that you almost miss the bell to the bakery ringing. You suddenly jolt and remember that you’re supposed to be working.
“Sorry, excuse me,” you say hastily and dart back behind the counter. A man orders a croissant and a coffee and you get his order out quickly. You want to back over to the woman, but you feel like you shouldn’t, especially with the other customer in here now. You can feel her looking at you the whole time though.
A few minutes later she walks back up to the counter and places her empty coffee cup and plate down.
“Oh, thank you,” you say, surprised. You usually clean off the tables yourself.
“Thank you,” she says. Her eyes sweep over your face. “I’m sure I’ll see you around.”
“I’ll be here,” you joke lamely but she smirks regardless. “I’m y/n.”
“I know,” she responds, reaching over again to tap on the tag that clearly says your name. You blush furiously and fight the urge to hide your face in your hands. “I’m Agatha.”
“Nice to meet you, Agatha,” you say, trying out her name on your tongue. You like how it sounds, how it feels.
“Have a good day, hon.” Before you can tell her to have one too, she’s on her way out of the bakery, the bell announcing her departure. You take a deep breath to calm your racing heart. How is it that she can have this much effect on you after meeting her twice?
You take the bill from your shirt pocket and put it in the register, collecting the change. Sure she’s rich, but she doesn’t have to be giving you this much money.
So why is she?
You spend the rest of the day thinking about Agatha.
The next day, she comes strolling in at the exact same time. You’re doing some school work on your laptop and you hope you don’t visibly perk up as much as you feel. You wonder if those three days you didn’t see her between the first meeting and yesterday she had come by when you weren't on shift.
But that’s a crazy thought, because surely she isn’t coming by just to see you. She orders the same thing: an espresso with a piece of cinnamon crumb cake.
She gives you another crisp $50 bill.
“I know you have money to burn, being a fancy lawyer and all,” you tease. “But please don’t go broke buying coffee and cake.”
She laughs melodically. “Doll, I’m not just buying coffee and cake, I’m thanking the excellent service.” And once again, she’s made you flush. You inwardly tell yourself that you need to stop letting her have such an effect on you.
You get her the cake and she goes to sit down at the booth from yesterday and you begin making her coffee. You’re lost in thought, wondering if Agatha will invite you to sit with her again, when your hand shakes as you're pouring coffee from the pot to the cup and splashes onto your hand.
You gasp loudly and drop the pot. It shatters all over the counter and soaks your laptop.
“Oh, god, no!” You groan and rush to grab paper towels. You quickly sop up the mess from your laptop and carefully collect the pieces of glass.
“Everything okay?” Agatha asks and you turn to find her standing at the counter again, a look of worry on her face.
“Yeah, god, I’m sorry, I accidentally dropped the coffee,” you sputter. You throw the towels away and open up your computer, frantically pressing the power button.
It doesn’t turn on.
With a defeated sigh, you close it and pinch the bridge of your nose. Of fucking course. You aren’t sure how you’re going to pay for a new laptop.
“You okay?” Concern laces Agatha’s voice.
You scoff and shrug. “There could not be a worse time for my computer to break. I have school work that needs to be done – I have an exam to take! And now I have to go find time to go to the store and buy a new one and ugh. It’s just so frustrating.” It feels good to vent and then you realize that you’re talking to basically a complete stranger. You straighten up. “Sorry, let me get a new pot and I’ll have that espresso right up.”
She waves a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it, doll. I’ll get it next time.” She winks at you.
“Next time it’s on the house,” you say. She laughs like it’s some sort of inside joke. Granted, if she keeps tipping like she does, you could buy yourself a new computer in no time.
You still don’t know why she’s doing it. You open your mouth to say something, maybe ask her what she’s doing here, but she cuts you off.
“I have to go. I’ll see you later?” She asks, sounding slightly hopeful.
“You know where I’ll be,” you answer, feeling a longing pang in your chest as her face lights up at your cheesy comment.
“Sorry about your laptop,” she adds before she sticks another $20 in the tip jar. You gape at her as she smirks and walks out. She is quite literally just throwing cash at you.
And it doesn’t stop there either.
You’re just about to finish up your shift when a man walks in, carrying a white plastic bag and a clipboard.
“Y/n?” He asks, looking at a piece of paper. You affirm and he puts the bag on the counter in front of you. “Sign here, please?” You’re not quite sure what’s happening at all but you do as you’re told.
Once he walks out of the bakery, you practically tear open the bag to see what’s in it. The first thing you find is a note.
Hope this will suffice. Let me know if you like it. X, Agatha. And then a number at the bottom. Your mouth drops open and you go back into the bag and pull out a box. You take the top off and inside is a sleek, dark, new MacBook Air. Probably close to a thousand dollars.
“Holy shit,” you mutter under your breath. You run your hands over the smooth cover and open it up. It blinks to life and you actually laugh out loud.
Fucking Agatha. You’ve met her three times and she just bought you a brand new computer because you accidentally spilled coffee on yours just that morning.
Speaking of the older woman. You pull out your phone and type the number into it.
It’s y/n. Thank you so much for the laptop! You are literally a lifesaver. Is there anything I can do to repay you? I’d give you free coffee and cake for the rest of your life, but I might get fired. Thanks again! You decide it’s a good mix of gratitude and humor and send it.
Bubbles immediately appear and you wait with bated breath.
Finally a response appears and heat courses through your veins.
Of course, doll, it’s my pleasure. And don’t worry about paying me back just yet. I’m sure we’ll figure something out ;)
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Anyone want to be my sugar mommy lol
#agatha harkness x fem!reader#agatha harkness x reader#agatha x reader#agatha x you#agatha harkness x you#kathryn hahn x reader#agatha all along
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𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐌𝐀 𝐊𝐎𝐙𝐔𝐌𝐄 ˖ ࣪ ∗ ❀
cw: pegging, hair pulling, crying, sub!kenma, gn!reader
a/n: draft from forverrrr ago but i have to post it in honor of the haikyu movie
He hated it. He despised sensation of sweat trickling down his body as his back arched to meet your thrusts. Kenma had always detested physical activity, which is precisely why you relished making him work for it, watching him bounce uselessly on your strap as you mocked the way his cock slapped against his stomach.
Tears pooled in the corners of his eyes, and moans escaped his chapped lips. His voice came out as horse cries as your hands gripped his hips, rather harshly. “Apologize, Kozume,” you commanded sternly, looking up at him. He shook his head, his bottom lip trembling. Yet he continued bouncing on your lap, sloppily and uncoordinated, squirming under your grip.
“Oh? So that’s how it’s going to be, huh?” you mused, searching his face for any emotion. He refused to apologize, knowing any sort of speech would bring on the tears he hated. But you didn’t care about that now. Roughly, you flipped him onto all fours, now getting to see the breath taking sight of his ass. Despite his slurred protests, he arched his back, presenting his pulsating hole for you to use.
“P-put it back in,” he pleaded, wriggling his hips toward you for more friction. “Not until you apologize,” you replied, choosing to tease him by running your slick strap between his cheeks. His body felt hot, the tips of his ears reddened even with his face hidden. “’m sorry,” he whined into the pillow, but you clicked your tongue, unsatisfied with his weak apology.
“Louder,” you urged, knowing the volume he could actually reach. He hesitated, then looked at you, his Adam’s apple bobbing as your stern glare conveyed everything. He stifled a moan as you teased him with a gentle thrust near his hole. “I-I’m sorry for being an ass, please [name], f-forgive me,” he forced out, trembling under your grip.
You hummed, pausing for a moment that felt like an eternity to Kenma before finally ramming your length back into his wet ring of muscles. He moaned in satisfaction, thinking he got what he wanted. But the pleasure soon turned to overstimulation as you continued pounding him roughly. Usually you would keep a slow pace, showering him in praise as he got adjusted to your girth. But this time was different. His hips tried to escape your merciless pace, but you quickly stopped him. A string of nervous gasps escaping his cracked lips.
“Where do you think you’re going? If you can’t apologize properly, I’ll make you wish you could.”
“It’s too much—it’s too much,” he whined, gripping the sheets below him in a desperate attempt to ground himself. Despite his words, you saw the way he looked back at you with his mouth agape, eyes half-lidded, his cock surely weeping on his abdomen.
“Touch yourself, baby,” you encouraged warmly, but he just shook his head. You sighed, trying to be nice, but he was being such a brat. Maybe he’d learn his lesson if you were rougher. Releasing one side of his hips, you reached up with your free hand to pull his hair.
He gasped sharply, then whimpered as you pulled back. His moans were no longer muffled, and he could hear the lewd sounds of skin slapping together more clearly now. It all added to his pleasure, and the coil in his stomach started to unwind. Even in his delirious state, he knew better than to come without asking. “C-can I…” You cut off his plea, already knowing what he was going to ask. “No, only good boys get to come when they ask.” He sobbed at that.
Covered in sweat, he couldn’t bring himself to protest. You tightened your grip on him, continuing to pound relentlessly. He was fully crying now, hands shaking as he resisted the urge to fist his cock. But he was so needy, pre-cum leaking uselessly from his tip. You could tell what he was thinking and smirked. “Go on, touch yourself, and I’ll let you come.” He looked back at you, wary of your leniency.
“You mean it?” he asked shyly. You nodded warmly. “When have I ever lied to you?” With that, his hand found its way to his puffy tip, small nervous strokes causing his whole body to shake with pleasure. Your grip on his hips lifted his lower half practically off the bed. He felt weak, coming without hesitation when a “go on” left your lips.
He moaned loudly, his voice cracking into the pillow as his milky white release sprayed onto himself and the sheets.
To his disappointment and pleasure, you didn’t stop. In fact, it felt like you sped up your thrusts, maintaining their rhythm without faltering.
“We can’t stop now. I have to make sure my baby learns his lesson.”
#sub haikyuu#dom reader#haikyuu#dom!reader#haikyu x reader#sub character#sub!character#haikyu x you#haikyu smut#kenma kuzome#kenma x reader#hq kenma#kenma x y/n#haikyuu kenma#kozume kenma#sub!kenma#kenma x you#kenma#haikyuu kozume#kozume x reader#fem!reader#fem!dom
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Clumsy love — katsuki bakugo.
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In which…
katsuki is cooking in the kitchen, and you accidentally surprise him, he turned around to quick and hit you :( ..maybe it’s a good thing though.
Pairing; Katsuki Bakugo x Afab!reader
Content contains; fem!reader, angst/comfort (but mostly comfort), Prohero!katsuki, sweet kats, maybe a little ooc (sorry..), use of “babe, baby, doll, ‘kats’”, swearing, cheesy cheesy love stuff, mentions of blood, reader getting hit (on accident).
Word count; 1.4k
a/n; this feels rushed but I think it came out pretty cute — I also rewrote like ALL of this it went from 1.0k to 1.4k with my edits to the story..I’m scared to post this pls tell me y’all fw it 🙁 if smb already wrote this IM SORRY I don’t have an @ or anything, I cant remember if I took inspo from someone or was creative for once 😢
katsuki was stirring a pot over the stove, the boiling water and smell of the delicious stew he was cooking wafting through the air. Katsuki always loved to cook for you, no matter how tired he was. He’d cook a million times a day if it meant he got to see you light up at his thoughtfulness, not to mention he’s practically a 5 star chef.
He was pacing around the kitchen to grab various seasonings, vegtables, and other simple things. You wanted to show him some silly video off your phone, so you walked from your shared bedroom and approached him from behind, I suppose he didn’t hear you coming until you were right behind him, tapping him on the shoulder excitedly.
“kats, look-“ but your words got cut off with a mean ‘smack!’, the back of his hand making instant contact with your nose, your hands instantly reaching up to cup you’re now bruised nose as you squeak out an ‘ow ow ow!’
“holy shit!,” he exclaimed. “babe, I’m so sorry.” he drops everything, the spoon dropping into the pot, water splashing lightly with a ‘plosh’. He rushes over, grabbing your wrists lightly; a worried mixed with guilty look on his face.
“it’s- mmm fuck!” you grit out through bared teeth. “it’s fine, not ur fault kats—“ you hiss out, eyes squinting and ur brows furrowed from the sharp pain stinging in your nose. He was a pro-hero, and strong obviously, so when you startled him, he hit you with a lot of might. (all might reference.)
“no no—shit!- that’s not fine babe..lemme see cmon.” he stutters around, searching for the right words. you could tell by the glint in his eyes, and the way they softened, by his brows and the way they softly perked up and furrowed, by the tiny pout on his face, just how absolutely worried and awful he felt about himself right now. He slowly went to move your wrists from your face, careful to be gentle with you. You let him move your hands away from you’re poor injured nose slowly, tears stinging the corner of your eyes from the pure pain that spiked through you.
“aw fuck, y’r bleedin babe, cmon…” a unfamiliar gentle—? no…soft? yes but no—….worried? tone? yeah. worried. He knew you were okay, it wasn’t broken although it might feel as bad as one for a few minutes, nonetheless he hurt you.
his rough fingers wrapped around one of your wrists gently, guiding you to the bathroom, your other wrist still clutching your nose, trying to not let the gross metallic blood drip onto your nice clean floors. also to keep pressure on it, though it certainly wasn’t making it feel any better.
he sat you down gently on the lid of the toilet seat, both of your hands now cupping around your leaking nose, he settled on grabbing some toilet paper for a quick fix and wrapping it around his calloused hand. He rested on his knees to look up at you and get a better view to clean the blood. yet all you could think about was katsuki bakugo, was fucking kneeling on the ground for you. of course this didn’t even cross his mind in these conditions, all he could think about was the fact he did this, mistake or not, it was him. he tilted ur head back gently, his finger tips resting under your chin. He cleaned the blood spewing from your nose with softness and delicacy as if you were a porcelain doll. It was uncharacteristic of him to be so soft and gentle with you, of course he was a sweetheart to you, and he had his soft touchy moments, but it was still quite early in your relationship and katsuki was always a closed off person. Safe to say you knew he felt fucking awful.
“kats, ‘promise I’m okay, don’t feel bad, ‘ts not y’r fault.” You reassure him with a raspy tone considering ur head was tilted back, your vocal cords pressing closer to the front of your throat. you were still in pain and reassuring him. how could you be telling him it’s okay? reassuring him? he should be reassuring you.
“no no—fuck shhh, don’t say none of that shit..” he grumbles out, still focused on your nose, the bleeding was slowing down to a halt which made him grateful, he gently pulled the tissue away and threw it in the bin, he stood back up; his knees popping, (~~he’d kill you if you brought that up any other time~~.) hand gently caressing and looking at your nose, rough finger tips softly rubbing around and up and down your, now, less bloody nose.
when you look up at him with your big teary eyes and pouty lips, he can feel his heart shatter impossibly further. Once he deems your nose worthy enough to stop being catered to, he looks down at you with a big sad face and caresses the side of your head, cupping it with his big coarse palm, the weak look in his eyes just about broke your own heart into a million tiny pieces. you can’t help but melt into his touch, extending out a hand to carress his face aswell, cupping eachothers cheeks with the harsh cool lighting of the bathroom, the dried up blood still partially down your nose; the color of your skin turning a purpleish-blue around the area.
“kats…” you pout at his sad defeated look. “I’m okay, I promise. It wasn’t even your fault, I jus’ caught you off guard. don’t blame yourself baby..” you attempt to reassure him with a soft gentle tone. katsuki wasn’t used to this, someone being so soft around him, speaking to him in a sweet tone. He couldnt even begin to know what to do. The consistency of your thumb rubbing back and forth softly over his cheek, everything was to much.
“I know—I know but I hurt you baby. me, I did. I never wanted to do that, and I did. I can’t believe myself an-“ you could tell he was going to start a pointless ramble about himself, so u cut him off with a gentle shush, your delicate fingers draping over his lip in a playful manner, a soft smile tugging at your lips. You didn’t wanna hear him say such mean things about himself, especially when it truly isn’t anybody’s fault.
“shhh…katsuki.” he listened. as he always did to you. “don’t beat yourself up over this please..” to him your voice was like honey. sweet and smooth, just the right consistency. “things happen. I’m fine, the pains already getting better,” a small weight lifted off his shoulders as you reassured him the pain was already starting to fade.
“I love you.”
oh. you guys were dating but you’ve never went that far. he feels his heart pick up in speed, freezing, you were starting to worry you made him uncomfortable. why can’t he speak? why can he feel himself sweating? his hands are getting clammy, and he feels like the world is crashing around him.
“…I love you.”
he said it. you didn’t expect him to but he did. you didn’t make a big deal out of it, instead just smiling brightly up at him, your eyes crinkling as it always did, it was truly his favorite sight to see. He would never admit it, but he’s truly down bad for you.
“and I know you’ll still love me even if I’m all bloody and bruised.” you joke with him lightening the mood, he lets out a airy laugh pulling you into his chest gently, tilting your head so your cheek is smooshed against his chest as to be careful of your nose. maybe it’s a good thing katsuki hit you, maybe if he didn’t you wouldn’t of said I love you. maybe he wouldn’t of gotten vulnerable. The terms are silly of course, and it will be a funny story to tell down the line.
maybe katsuki does seriously love you.
“yeah. I will, doll.”
A/N guys I’m shaking before I post this
#bakugo x reader#katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugo katsuki x reader#bakugou katsuki#bnha bakugo katsuki#mha bakugo katsuki#bakugo x y/n#bakugo x you#mha x reader#mha#mha x y/n#mha x you#bakugou x reader#bnha bakugou#mha bakugou#bakugo comfort#bakugo fic#.thenaoneshot
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Oct. 2 ; Begging
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Male! Reader x Finnick Odair (The Hunger Games)
HEADS UP!
Second Kinktober prompt, set! Enjoy this drabble
Ended up being a bit sweeter and not too 'begging' as the prompt said, but hey! There's always another chance to re-write this after kinktober!
Also, ignore the fact I haven't posted day one yet ajdhkcjks I'll probably post it later since I'm a tad stuck on it.
And how out of practice I am in writing- but I swear, all my thirsts will (hopefully) get better overtime!
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Finnick moans, his hands claw at the kitchen counter top as his boyfriend pounds into him from behind. He aches a bit, but god it's amazing and worth it all.
He had teased (Y/n) earlier today, he was in the mood, and seems like (Y/n) was as well after having Finnick drop to his knees and suck him off from under their dinning table. He wouldn't admit it straight up, but Finnick has been itching for his lover's touch since a few days ago when (Y/n) had returned from his trip to District 13 to check in. The kiss they shared at the station, Finnick liked it a bit too much, maybe he missed (Y/n)'s lips against his, the gentle touch on his sides, how he didn’t push him-
"(Y/n)- baby, fuck!" Finnick chokes out, another moan leaving him.
His chest felt cold from being pressed against their marble counter, but (Y/n) simply continued to piston into him. A hand gently holding his thigh up to the side, granting him a new angle, and Finnick felt his legs shake, and at some point he's pinned to the counter. He can barely keep himself up on the floor, and (Y/n) seems to notice because Finnick yelps briefly as he's flipped over and he's now with his back to the counter, staring up at (Y/n) as he hikes his legs up. Now presented with a canvas, Finnick reaches up and wraps his arms around his boyfriend's back, moaning as he tries to bite the noises back by biting his bottom lip.
His hair is disheveled, messy, and not in the usual styled and seductive manner that his ex-stylists used to fix it into, but rather into something raw and honest. His fingers draw down (Y/n)'s back as he shudders and soon sputters on a noise and breath.
"Another- inside, please-" Finnick begs quietly, he doesn’t care how he aches faintly from the past three orgasms he's already had which have stolen all the air from him, he needs another load inside of him. One more.
(Y/n) smiles slightly, both love and pure unadulterated adoration, and he leans down to groan into Finnick's ear "You want another inside? And here I was thinking of pulling out and finishing all over your thighs instead... why so desperate?" He teases, and Finnick scoffs as much as he can before he breaks into a choppy whimper mixed with a moan "I- Oh right there... There! Nail right there!" He can't help but purr out, and when (Y/n)'s thrusts slow and intentionally miss, Finnick is digging his face involuntarily into (Y/n)'s neck "Please- please please... So good, please, inside. Another, right... right tHE-" his words are cut off and hit a high as he throws his head back, and if it weren't for the gentle hand on the back fo his head that stops the movement by catching his head and curling a hand into his hair, Finnick would've slammed his head open. But he's too lost to properly adore the action, instead he only lets out a heavy, and noisey high pitched moan.
(Y/n) had shifted his thrusts, and was now thoroughly fucking into him, right into his prostate as he had asked, and the tease just chuckles breathily.
"There?"
"Yes... Yes! Please inside, inside." His last few words mold into messy shapes and noises, still coherent in a sense, but debaunched with his ecstasy. He lets out another softer whimper, and Finnick swears this man is the only one who has been able to reduce him to these honest words, begs, and noises. He's a mess, but shit it's so nice.
It doesn't take too much longer, and (Y/n) gives a small tug to Finnick's hair, reeling his mind back to quickly ask for honest confirmation "Inside?" And Finnick can't help how he begs.
"YES! Inside, inside, please- please (Y/n), need it. Please, need to feel it, feel you-" and Finnick is cut off with a yelp and moan as his hips are grabbed and he's pulled down to be plush against (Y/n)'s hips. He shudders as a weak orgasm leaves him, untouched, oversensitive, and the feeling of being filled and pumped with a orgasm once more in him, Finnick lets the fingers he hadn’t noticed that dug down (Y/n)'s back fall lax.
He lets his expression drop, content as he bathes in the after glow, breathing in heavily as he lets out weak little noises. He gently holds onto (Y/n) as his partner seems just as breathless as he is, pulling back to smile down at him as Finnick feels his heart briefly flutter at how he looks at him.
"Seems like you've missed me." And Finnick groans in complaint and jokingly tries to shove (Y/n) away with a little tired grin on his own face "Oh piss off!" He scoffs out a playful laugh despite how breathless it sounds, quickly diving in to kiss (Y/n) once more in something sweeter.
Yeah, he had missed him.
#top male reader#dom male reader#the hunger games#finnick odair#hunger games finnick#finnick x reader#male reader#x male reader#seme male reader#the hunger games x reader#top reader#dom reader
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it's been 15 years and you can see better than ever
(design notes under the cut) (there are spoilers)
ok this got really long. here you go
sif:
ditched the cloak. it was collecting dust in their closet until recently, but they realized they don't need to cling to their grief so much anymore. someone else will need it more soon.
ditched the eyepatch. the prosthetic eye is a labor of love designed by isa, as is literally everything else they're wearing.
they cut their bangs finally and started braiding their hair back so it wouldn't obscure their vision as much anymore.
they like darker/tighter clothing and prefer function over form but unfortunately their gay ass boyfriend keeps treating them like a dress up doll so they're stuck wearing waistcoats and a fancy cloak. (they don't mind. it's designed to look like loop.) they keep flowers in their many pockets to give to people.
they're a woodworker in their free time. they don't usually talk about being any sort of savior so he just becomes sif the guy who's really good at carving birthday presents for people and also tags along with isa to charity parties and fundraisers
41 year old 5'1" they/he absolutely zero intention of Changing. bonded to isabeau. they adopted a kid who leo or i might post about some other time i think. her name is estelle.
isa: i'm not taking credit for the design that's by my friend @fembard /@leoweooo. i'll include his design notes
isa dresses mostly for comfort, he doesn't like wearing stuff that might get stained or ruined when he's dyeing clothes or chasing stelle around in the mud or something, all his fashion sense goes into his handiwork
he Changed a few more times over the 15yrs, eventually settled. picked up she/her pronouns again on the side but was never really able to ditch the name isabeau and he kinda ran out of names anyways...
kept the long hair, kept a few inches in height, very happy to fulfill the role of male (space) wife
can't ditch the kimono jacket it's the piece de resistance. odile influence and Wisening Of Age means its made with a little more knowledge of ka buan technique but still very clearly an Isa Design. the fabric is imported silk sif!!!!!!
39 year old Tall with a capital T he/she "i swear i'm not a weeaboo i'm just really into ka buan fashion" vaugardian indie clothing designer in your area help support this man in his attempts to use his family members as living advertisements for his brand
mira: with design input from @jastertown thank you my friend
i took a lot of inspiration for the sparkly, sheer fabric on her dress from euphrasie. she's not head housemaiden yet because she doesn't feel like she's ready but everybody knows it'll be her
speaking of inspiration. she's been taking a lot of fashion cues from a certain lady in dormont that she thought was kind of scary, but it turns out she's very nice? they're besties now.
she got rid of the earrings for a little bit but then she realized she just liked how they look on her. so now they go ding ding! it's for her and nobody else, and that's how she likes it.
moved her ornaments to her skirt because they ding ding more often there. her necklace also jingles with merriment.
38 year old she/her advanced cisgender+ legend who's realizing that people are trying to get her to be the pope but all she really wants to do is write yaoibait fiction that looks like it came straight off of ao3
odile:
my glorious hag. she started shrinking about 3 years ago. all those years of bending over books has finally caught up to her. her hips are fuuuuuucked. but she has a sick cane that sif carved for her so everything's okay
she was already pretty comfortable and settled in her sense of style when she was nearing 50 so i don't think she would change much. darker clothing maybe. ditched the high-waisted pants for some looser slacks.
she's started writing a familytale of her own. the only person she's told about it is bonbon, who caught her up way past their bedtime, and scribbled all over one of the pages. she'll pass it on to sif when the time's right, after she's written down everything she can remember about their family.
64 year old she/her wasian researcher recovering from hernia surgery who's getting really into things like "political activism" and "body craft law reformation in ka bue" and "making sure people aren't sourcing their hrt from back alleys"
bonnie:
prefers to go by boniface these days. it's cooler. more mature. please stop calling me bonbon that's a nickname from when i was 10 guys c'mon guys ugh fine frin you can still call me bonbon but not around my girlfriends ok (nobody calls them boniface except for odile)
speaking of which they have 3 butch lesbian girlfriends. this got established as a joke but i think they have it in them. they're still young!!!!!!! they should be at the club!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
they traveled for a while with everybody but eventually settled down back in bambouche to start a little family owned restaurant with nille featuring dishes from all over the globe. people travel from all over to get a taste of boniface's good eats... bambouche is bustling. (they have a few recipes that are sourced from the country. they meet people every once in a while who find something achingly familiar about it, and they usually direct those people to jouvente to get in contact with frin.)
26 year old they/them "i dont know how tall i am but i'm taller than za" chef cooker whose restaurant keeps lighting on fire because this time i swear nille i can figure out how to do cooking craft i swear i wont explode the kitchen this time please i promise
loop:
ok. this is where lozy gets to just talk about what he thinks happens post game. i think they stick around for way longer than they really should and follow the crew around on their travels (mostly invisibly) because they're sooo fucking scared of change they're sooo scared and they're so scared of their wish fucking up beyond belief. they're kind of incapable of aging or dying in this body and theyre like permanently 26 which is what spurs them to finally move on.
i think they go back to their timeline eventually after making a Brand New Wish to "go back to their real family." alas the universe leads and we can only follow. and it turns out loop has actually made a real family in stardust's world also. this is my justification for why they can pop in between sasasap and isat worlds without much repercussion. i think they're always permanently loop shaped in isat but i imagine they can probably go back to their original body in their home timeline... might design that later. who knows. i'm fucked like that
i just think they deserve a chance for their own happy ending you know. isat's a game about how it's never too late to communicate and how you shouldn't punish yourself forever and ever. and i think theyve punished themself enough you know.
ok tank you for reading if you read this far. it's really big and long so i would understand if you didn't. but i hope you liked it. thoughts appreciated. here's a little something for the people who read all the way through.
#isat#in stars and time#siffrin#siffrin isat#isafrin#isat game#postgame isat#loop#isabeau#mirabelle#odile#bonnie#boniface#spoilers are only under the read more#my drawings#etoile tag
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Ma Meilleure Ennemie (pt 6/?)
Choosing your poison is easy; it's living with the consequences that truly haunts you. Silco's venom is intoxicating, and deep down, you know it will be the death of you, yet you find yourself craving every drop.
Silco x fem!Reader
Rating: Explicit (18+, MDNI)
Word Count: 7,6K
Warnings: smut, resolved sexual tension, light bondage, unprotected sex, creampie, praise kink, biting, possessive behavior, you are a prostitute, slight hints of reader's past, sex and restrained freedom being terms of a agreement, Silco (and Sevika) POV
Set before the events of Act 2 of the first season of Arcane.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
━━ Sevika's Pov ━━
Sevika had two absolute certainties in life. The first was never to hesitate, because in the undercity, one second too long could cost you your life. The second, even more important, was never to meddle in Silco's personal affairs unless he directly ordered it. These seemingly simple rules had ensured her survival and her position alongside the most powerful man in Zaun. So why, in the name of everything sacred—or profane, in this case—was she standing there, hand halfway to the door of his office, reconsidering what seemed to be a trivial task?
The noise on the other side made her hesitate. Wood creaking, muffled but rhythmic. It didn't take a genius to figure out what was going on in there. Sevika raised an eyebrow, already feeling a mix of embarrassment and exasperation bubbling up. Seriously, boss?
She huffed as she debated internally whether it was worth interrupting or if it would be better to just come back later. She opted for the latter. It was safer—for both of them.
Turning back down the hallway, she spotted two guards posted near the stairs. "Hey!" she called, her deep voice cutting through the silence. "Don't let anyone upstairs, especially that blue-haired brat."
The two nodded without question, though one of them looked briefly confused before returning to his watch. Sevika didn't explain. It wasn't necessary, and she didn't have the patience to deal with stupid questions.
Back at the bar, she plopped herself down on one of the stools, resting her right forearm on the counter as she observed the nearly empty room. The night was already wearing thin, with only a few stubborn, lonely drunks still clinging to their bottles and cigarettes. She allowed a tired smile to slip, one that quickly turned into a low, ironic laugh.
If someone had told me Silco would ditch his paperwork to fuck, I'd have laughed in their face.
It was surreal. The man was the very definition of a workaholic, always with his head buried in conspiracies and strategies to keep Zaun under control. But two months ago, everything changed. Out of nowhere, Silco approached her asking about a decent brothel in the city. She didn't question it, because, after all, who was she to judge? Everyone needs a little relief now and then.
But things had taken an unexpected turn. She knew the girl—maybe too well. Those big, deceptively innocent eyes always hiding something. Sevika had always known there was more behind that angelic façade. Maybe that's exactly what had drawn Silco in. And, frankly, she even agreed: good taste couldn't be denied.
The sound of a glass sliding across the counter pulled her from her thoughts. The bartender was looking at her, wearing the expression of someone who already knew what she wanted. Sevika grabbed the glass and downed the amber liquid in one go.
"Another." she ordered curtly, pushing the glass back toward him.
As she waited, Sevika let her eyes wander around the room, though her mind was still stuck on the scene. Silco, so methodical, so controlled... and now? Succumbing to his own desires. He wasn't even completely sure that it was the same woman from years ago, and yet he orchestrated all of this to have her around. She wasn't sure whether to find it amusing or concerning.
Whatever he's scheming, it better be worth the effort.
When the next glass arrived, she held it between her fingers, swirling the liquid before taking another long sip. At least tonight, she'd allow herself a few moments of peace.
"Tough night?" the bartender asked, his tone casual, as if he already knew the answer.
Sevika grunted, not even bothering to look up. Small talk was far from her priority. She emptied the glass in one gulp, feeling the warmth of the whiskey burn its way down her throat, momentarily easing the irritation brewing inside her.
"Is it true Silco's keeping a girl up there?" the bartender let slip, leaning over the counter with barely concealed curiosity. His voice was low, but the words carried too much weight for Sevika's liking.
She paused, spinning the empty glass between her fingers before glaring at him over the rim with evident impatience.
"Who told you that?"
"One of the morning shift guards." the man shrugged like it was no big deal. "Said they were ordered to let a woman in but not out. Thought kidnapped folks stayed at the warehouse, not here."
Sevika scoffed, rolling her eyes as she poured herself another drink. It was always the same with people like that: gossips who didn't know when to keep their mouths shut.
"She's different."
The bartender simply nodded, wiping the counter with a rag that, to Sevika, seemed more dirty than useful. Finally, silence returned, and she silently thanked the universe for the reprieve. Or at least for a few seconds. Because, of course, he couldn't keep his mouth shut for long.
"Wait! That woman, is she THAT... prostitute?" he asked, his voice laden with a curiosity that bordered on offensive.
Before Sevika could deliver a cutting response, a high-pitched voice sliced through the room like a knife.
"What's a prostitute?"
Sevika turned her head toward the voice, as did the bartender, and both found Jinx standing at the damned bar counter, hands on her hips and her eyes sparkling with curiosity, as if she were genuinely interested in the answer.
"How the hell did you get here at this hour?" Sevika asked, slamming her glass onto the table with force. Her patience, already worn thin, was nearly gone. "Shouldn't you be in your room or, I don't know, in your cage?"
Jinx made a face, an attempt at intimidation that wouldn't have scared a mouse.
"I don't live in a cage, you one-armed brute."
Sevika rolled her eyes. "Great. Just what I needed." without another word, she slid off the stool, grabbed the girl without any care, and slung her over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
"Hey! Put me down, you savage!" Jinx started thrashing, kicking the air and grumbling like a feral cat.
Sevika kept walking, unbothered. She was used to the brat's dramatics, but her patience wasn't infinite, especially after the night she'd already endured.
"Keep squirming like that, and I'll let you fall flat on your face." Sevika muttered, an empty threat she'd never dare follow through on, considering how much Silco doted on the girl. "You're not going upstairs."
Sevika thought about how the situation had spiraled into something even more ridiculous than she'd anticipated. Not that she really cared about Jinx—"Babysitter? Not a chance in hell."—but the last thing she wanted was to deal with the trauma of a kid discovering what her "dad" did behind closed doors. Even Zaun had its limits to chaos.
Jinx ignored the threat entirely, her fists pounding against Sevika's back with as much force as her skinny arms could muster. "Why not? Is it because of that prostitute? I don't even know what that is!"
"If you stop squirming, I'll tell you on the way."
To Sevika's surprise, Jinx actually went quiet.
Silco's Pov ━━━━━━━༺༻━━━━━━━
Silco looked at her body, her hair spread over the table as he thrust into her from behind. He loved how her skin felt against his, and the way she moaned softly whenever he touched her. Her body was so soft and warm, and he couldn't get enough of it. He held her wrists tightly behind her back as he pounded into her, his hips slapping against her ass with each thrust. Silco could feel his own pleasure building up inside him, but he held back, wanting to make this last as long as possible. He wanted to savor every moment of having she beneath him, submitting to his every desire.
Silco's thoughts were a jumbled mess of lust and desire. He loved how responsive she was to his touch, how she seemed to melt under him as he claimed her body. He knew he was being rough with her, but he couldn't help himself. The rough, animalistic nature of their coupling was a stark contrast to the refined elegance of his office, and he reveled in the delicious contradiction.
As he fucked her harder and faster, Silco leaned down and bit her shoulder, leaving a mark on her skin, which made her whine even more. He loved the idea of claiming her, of making sure everyone knew that she belonged to him now. She was his, and his alone, and he would make sure she never forgot it.
"My lovely dove." he growled into her ear, his breath hot against her skin. "All mine."
Silco felt her body trembling beneath him as he continued to thrust into her, his grip on her wrists loosening slightly. He could feel her pushing back against him, her hips meeting his with each stroke. He released her wrists completely and pulled her back against his chest, wrapping one arm around her waist and the other snaking up to grip her throat lightly. He didn't squeeze, just held her in place as he slowed his pace, savoring the feel of her tight heat surrounding him.
Silco's mind drifted to thoughts of the future, he would keep her by his side for a long time, that was for sure. He had no intention of losing her and even though his thoughts darkened, imagining every single thing he would do to her, Silco found himself becoming increasingly tender with her. He wanted to worship her body, to show her the depths of his desire even though she was angry with him and technically just doing her part of the deal. But for now, he contented himself with the feel of her in his arms, her body pressed against his as he continued to thrust into her.
"That's it..." his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered to her. "You're doing so well for me."
He wondered if she knew what she was getting herself into, if she understood the depths of having made that deal. She herself had said that accepting something from him was not so different from agreeing with the devil, which ironically she had done. But then again, he didn't really care. All that mattered was that she was his now. The thought sent a shiver of excitement down his spine, and he thrust harder, deeper, claiming her body as his own.
Silco's hand slid down from her hip to between her legs, his fingers finding her clit. He rubbed slow, firm circles, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. He could feel her tensing beneath him, her breath coming faster and harder. He knew she was close.
He leaned down and nuzzled her neck, his lips brushing against her skin as he whispered to her. "You're so beautiful like this." he murmured, his voice low and husky with desire. "It's okay... Let go. I've got you."
Silco continued to rub her clit, his fingers slick with her arousal. He could feel her tensing beneath him, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. And then, with a final thrust of his hips, he felt her coming undone. Her walls clenched around him, her body shaking with the force of her orgasm. He held her close, his arm wrapped tightly around her waist as he continued to thrust, drawing out her pleasure for as long as possible.
Only then, when he knew she had finished, did he allow himself to let go. With a harsh groan, he buried himself deep inside her, his own release pulsing through him. He collapsed against her back, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.
Silco pulled out of her slowly, savoring the feeling of her walls fluttering around him as he withdrew. He stood for a moment, watching as she collapsed onto the table, her body spent and limp. He couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction, of pride, at having brought her to such heights of pleasure.
He moved to his chair and sat down, his gauze never leaving her as he fixed his pants. She looked so small, so fragile like this. It was a stark contrast to the strong, defiant woman he knew
He leaned forward and grabbed her by the waist, pulling her off the table and onto his lap. He didn't care about the mess, about the fluids smearing across his pants. All he cared about was having her close, feeling her warmth against his skin.He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight against his chest. He could feel her heartbeat, slow and steady, matching his own. He knew he should let her go, let her clean up and rest. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. He wanted to keep her here, in his arms, for as long as possible.
Even though the weight of exhaustion clawed at his every muscle, Silco refused to relinquish her. His arms remained locked around her, firm yet careful, as if afraid she might slip away the moment he loosened his grip. The embrace was neither casual nor fleeting—it lingered, speaking volumes in the silence. It was an act that could mean many things: dominance, possession, a fleeting moment of vulnerability. But most disturbingly, in a way so distorted it almost felt like sin—affection.
Her head rested against his shoulder, her breathing still uneven, the faint tremor in her body betraying just how far she'd been pushed. He rested his chin on top of her head, breathing in the scent of her hair.
She was undone. Raw. Stripped of the mask she so often wore—the provocative, infuriating facade that seemed designed solely to challenge him at every turn. Here, in his arms, she was something closer to her truest self, a woman laid bare by the weight of her own humanity.
And God help him, he enjoyed both versions.
The stubborn, sharp-tongued temptress who dared to stand toe-to-toe with him, who infuriated and intrigued him in equal measure—that version of her was a spark, a fire he couldn't help but want to stoke. But this? This quieter, unguarded moment? This was something else entirely. A glimpse of the woman beneath the armor.
His hand moved almost unconsciously, fingers brushing against the damp strands of her hair before trailing down to rest at the nape of her neck. His touch was uncharacteristically gentle, a rare softness that would have shocked anyone who knew him. And though he told himself it was a fleeting act of charity, of magnanimity, the truth was far more selfish. He simply liked holding her this way.
"You'll ruin me."
Her voice was barely a whisper, so faint it might have been lost in the stillness of the room if not for the fact that Silco was holding her so close. It was raw, unguarded, and it hung in the air between them like the blade of a guillotine, poised to fall.
He didn't respond. He didn't need to. Her words weren't a question, nor did they require an answer. They were a truth, a bitter acknowledgment of the tangled web they'd both willingly stepped into. And it wasn't as if he could deny it, anyway. Ruin was inevitable, and it was something she had said herself during their earlier clash. This was simply the echo of her own warning, now laden with the weight of their proximity.
Silco tightened his grip around her in lieu of words, pulling her just a fraction closer, as if to say, Yes, I will. And you'll let me.
"Rest." he commanded, his voice softer now, though still tinged with that unyielding authority that brooked no argument. His hand splayed firmly across her back, anchoring her against him. "For once, don't argue. Just rest."
Without resistance, she surrendered to sleep in his arms, her breathing evening out as her body grew heavy with exhaustion. Silco stayed there, unmoving, his eyes half-lidded as he stared out into the dim haze of Zaun's morning light filtering faintly through the industrial gloom. The sounds of the city, muted and distant, echoed faintly through the room: the hiss of steam pipes, the clatter of machinery, and the occasional murmur of voices far below. It was a sound he'd grown so accustomed to that it often faded into the background, yet in this moment, it seemed louder, more insistent.
His eyes drifted to the ceiling, tracing the familiar cracks and shadows that had once provided solace in the solitude of his nights. But this morning, they seemed to mock him. Unbidden, the memory crept in — that bridge, the suffocating smoke, the acrid sting of betrayal. He could almost hear the anguished screams and the crackle of fire, smell the blood and oil mingling in the air. That day had been a reckoning, one where every choice he made seemed to collapse beneath the weight of inevitability.
The bridge where Felicia died.
The bridge where Vander betrayed him.
Silco's jaw tightened, and he exhaled sharply through his nose, as if expelling the memory itself. He would not dwell on it. What was done could not be undone, and revisiting the past served no purpose. Regret was for the weak, and Silco had no patience for weakness — not in others, and certainly not in himself.
Still, the ghost of that day lingered at the edges of his mind, a specter of all that had gone wrong. Choices that had seemed so clear, so righteous at the time, had led only to ruin. The kind of ruin that left scars too deep to heal, both on the body and on the soul.
His fingers twitched slightly, tightening their hold on her for just a moment before loosening again. She stirred faintly in her sleep but didn't wake, her face soft and unguarded in a way that tugged at something deep within him.
Ruins were where he had been forged. And if ruin was where he would return, he would do so on his own terms.
━━━━━━━༺༻━━━━━━━
You felt your body sinking. The underwater currents were relentless, tossing you back and forth like a lifeless ragdoll as the darkness closed in around you. You realized the faint shimmer of the surface was growing farther and farther away. But, strangely, there was no panic. There was no desperation to fight, no frantic hands trying to reach for that light. Something inside you decided that here, in the depths, would be your final resting place.
The silence of the water, the relentless cold, the sense of abandonment. It all made a morbid kind of sense. You let your arms float beside you, surrendering to the darkness that clouded your vision.
But then, something changed.
You felt a tug at the collar of your shirt—rough and unexpected. There was no gentleness in the motion, only urgency. You tried to open your eyes, but the water burned your retinas, leaving everything blurred. Still, you could tell you were rising—fast. The muffled sound of the water became a chaotic mix of bubbles and currents. Something—or someone—was determined to save you.
"Stay with me, little one. Hold on."
Then you finally managed to open your eyes. The cracked ceiling, marked by softly dancing shadows, was the first thing you saw as you returned to reality. There was no longer the sensation of being submerged, nor the voice that had seemed so close just moments before. Vander's voice had felt so real, but now it was just a distant echo, as unreachable as the rest of your memories. A deep emptiness settled over you. It had been so long since you'd felt something like this. Maybe since... Well, better not to think about it.
Sitting up slowly, you took a better look at the room around you. It was comfortable, simple, functional. It had everything a room needed but lacked any personal touch, giving it a cold, almost impersonal feel. The lighting was far too dim for your taste, with shadows pooling in the corners.
That's when you noticed: your clothes were arranged neatly, as was your lower body, with no trace of what you had done hours earlier on that damned table. Silco had likely cleaned and adjusted everything. He'd even ensured you rested without wrecking your back, unlike before on the couch—ironic, coming from someone like him. On the nightstand, a pitcher of water and a glass waited for you, without notes, without explanations.
You poured yourself a glass, feeling the cool liquid soothe the dryness in your throat as you leaned back against the headboard. The weight of the situation finally hit you. You were screwed, weren't you?
For someone who prided themselves on being immune to Silco's games, who claimed—proudly—that they'd never be manipulated, here you were: completely caught in his web. And worse, you were here willingly.
But it had to be worth it. It had to be.
Your mind spun, piecing together the fragments of information you had gathered so far. Silco and his supposed "daughter." Jinx. It was impossible to ignore the gaping hole this story left in your reasoning. Silco had no wife, and absolutely nothing about the man suggested he could have maintained a relationship close enough to father a child. In fact, you might be the closest thing to that.
So why had Finn hinted that Jinx was a scandal?
You pieced the fragments together hesitantly, almost afraid of what it might mean. What if Jinx was... Powder?
The thought was absurd. Or, perhaps, not so much. After the night of the massacre, the only bodies reportedly found were those of Vander, Mylo, and Claggor. There was no trace of Violet or Powder. It was unlikely that both had survived, but unlikely didn't mean impossible.
What if Powder was alive? What if Silco had found her in the chaos and taken her in? The idea was horrifying, yet it made a disturbing amount of sense. Could that be the origin of the scandal? That Silco had taken Powder, turning her into the weapon he now called Jinx?
You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to organize your thoughts. It was all speculation. You had no proof, just disconnected hints. But it didn't matter. You would find out who Jinx was, no matter the cost. And if there was even the slightest chance of finding Violet or Powder, you wouldn't waste it. You had made a promise to Vander on his deathbed. You would find and protect his daughters, and Silco might just be the key to achieving that.
If the hunt for Jinx led nowhere, you could still use Silco's resources covertly to track down anything about them. Even if it was just their bones so you could finally have some closure.
You didn't know how long you sat there lost in thought until your own body protested from staying in the same position for too long.
Rising from the bed with your resolve renewed, you stretched slightly, your muscles still complaining from the strain. You crossed the room toward the door, but before you could touch it, it was abruptly opened. Standing before you was that same tattooed man from the previous morning, his face carrying the same expression of near-permanent indifference. He tilted his chin up in a simple gesture before saying:
"Silco wants to see you."
Without even waiting for your response, he turned and began walking down the corridor. You hesitated for a moment but eventually followed. As you walked, you noticed how the Last Drop was surprisingly busy for that time of morning. Men and women were engaged in various tasks, carrying crates, adjusting equipment, and speaking in hushed tones. It was a completely different scene from the almost ghostly atmosphere of the day before when you had arrived.
Not that you were surprised by this change, not after everything Silco had been pulling.
You arrived at the infamous door to Silco's office. The tattooed man knocked twice, firmly, before announcing: "Sir, I've brought her."
The response came almost instantly, and the door opened, revealing a familiar figure.
Ah, yes. Her.
The woman was there, her imposing presence intact, though her eyes carried a weary air, as if she hadn't slept in weeks. There was something both unsettling and captivating about her posture—her shoulders squared, her chin slightly tilted upward, as if daring the world to knock her down. For a brief moment, your eyes met. You held her gaze, tilting your head slightly, until a memory flashed in your mind like lightning.
Oh...
Now you remembered where you knew her from.
She seemed to notice your realization, but said nothing. She simply stepped aside, creating space for you to enter the office.
You crossed the room with the confidence of someone who felt at home—even if you weren't. Your steps echoed lightly in the space as you stopped in front of Silco's desk. He held some papers in his hands, apparently reports, his eyes scanning the text with calm precision. He didn't bother to look at you, as if your presence was expected but not significant enough to interrupt his focus.
You stopped in front of him, crossing your arms and shifting your weight slightly to one side. "Should I assume I've been summoned for something important, or did you just want my company this morning?"
He merely gestured with his hand, dismissing the two people still in the office. Yet, even as the door closed, he remained in that position for a few more seconds, calmly finishing whatever was written on the papers before setting them aside. Only then did he lean back in his chair.
"Well, keeping me company is part of your new job, isn't it?" His voice was low and velvety, carrying a familiarity that bothered you as much as it intrigued you. With a lazy gesture, he indicated the chair in front of him. "Sit. We have matters to discuss."
Without wasting time, you settled into the chair, crossing your legs in a deliberate motion, assuming the posture of someone ready to play at the same level. If Silco wanted to turn this into a performance of business negotiations, you wouldn't fall behind.
"I've been thinking." his voice smooth as silk. "Perhaps our agreement needs a few... adjustments. Some additional clauses, so to speak."
Silco leaned back slightly, his fingers interlaced beneath his chin, the posture of someone entirely in control of the situation. "But before we get to that, I think it's wise to review the main terms of our current arrangement. Just to ensure we're aligned."
You shrugged with feigned indifference, though irritation pulsed beneath the surface. Of course, you knew every line of that damned agreement. How could you forget something that had been presented more as an ultimatum than a real negotiation? When Silco proposed the deal, you barely had a chance to voice your opinion. Not that your opinion would have mattered much—the power in that room belonged exclusively to him.
If he wanted to, he could have simply imprisoned you, tied you to a bed, keeping you captive by force. In fact, considering Silco's style, perhaps he still might—but in a twisted way, involving power games and sex.
When he presented the contract the night before, the scene was almost comical. You weren't even remotely surprised to see that he already had the document prepared, flawlessly drafted, waiting only for you to sign your name. However, what truly surprised you was that he agreed to some of your conditions, though they were few.
"Go ahead."
Silco then pulled the paper from the drawer, placing the document on the table with the two signature spaces clearly visible: one with his name, marked by that precise and meticulous handwriting, and the other with your name, marked by the nervous haste of your rushed signature.
"You agreed to spend three weeks of each month at my service." he began to read, his voice low and laden with an authority that sent shivers down your spine. "You will serve me in whatever way I deem necessary. This includes physically, of course. In return, I will provide you with everything you need, as well as ensuring your safety and comfort."
He paused, his eyes following the text with the precision of someone who had recited these words countless times. His expression was one of absolute delight behind the indifferent façade; you could tell he was savoring every syllable he uttered. Every detail seemed carefully crafted to trap you.
"And during the fourth and final week of that same month, you will have your freedom. I will not touch you, nor demand anything from you. You will be free to do as you please, within reasonable limits."
Silco pushed the folder toward you, the gesture as casual as it was threatening. "Naturally, you will have an escort at all times. To ensure your safety and to prevent you from deciding to run. After all, I wouldn't want to lose my new toy so soon."
You took the contract, your eyes scanning the words you already knew. But before you could even pretend to conduct a detailed review, Silco's voice cut through the air again, laced with something almost playful.
"Now, dove." his soft tone masked the venom behind his words. "Please, say out loud what the consequences are for breaking your part of the agreement."
Your gaze shot up from the paper to him. Your superficial reading stopped at that sentence, your fingers clutching the document tightly enough to crease it slightly. Of course, he was going to demand this. It was Silco's arrogance at its peak, forcing you to admit the terms you despised aloud. His smile widened as he noticed your hesitation. He was savoring the moment—every second of your reluctance was a small victory for him.
"If I break the agreement, all the freedom granted to me will be revoked. I will be under your constant supervision, without any autonomy." you wanted to kick him under the table, but you forced yourself to continue without resorting to violence. "And I will be subject to whatever punishments you deem appropriate, with no right to question or refuse them."
You hated the way he looked at you in that moment. That intense, cruel gaze that made every hair on your body stand on end. It wasn't just the intensity—it was what lay beneath it. There was something deeply wrong about the satisfaction Silco displayed, the twisted pleasure in reminding you, silently, of the reach of his power in Zaun—and now, over every aspect of your life.
He tilted his head slightly, the treacherous smile playing on his lips. "And?" he pressed, his voice low, its softness nothing more than a façade. "Don't keep me waiting. Say the rest."
You swallowed hard, choking down the rising urge to unleash a string of curses at him. Instead, you responded with a coldness you didn't truly feel.
"You would burn the brothel."
The words were difficult to say, but you forced them out, trying to mask the vulnerability they carried. In Zaun, few things could really hurt you. With no family and no significant ties left, you believed you were beyond the reach of emotional threats. But then, there was the brothel. And Silco knew it.
Not that you particularly liked the work of being a prostitute. As you had told Silco the day you first met, it wasn't as though you had much of a choice. It was a job that didn't attract attention, and that was exactly what you needed.
But the brothel wasn't just a workplace. The people there, even if they weren't your closest friends, were something you could call your community. Co-workers, confidants on hard nights, people who had shared the same roof with you since Babette took you in. She gave you a chance when no one else would—a place to stay, a job to support yourself, a sense of stability in a world that seemed to crumble around you. And now, because of you, the brothel was in danger. Just like Kate had been... and you knew how that ended.
He leaned back in his chair with the confidence of a king on his throne, intertwining his fingers beneath his chin. "Ah, yes. The brothel. Such a charming establishment, isn't it? It would be such a shame if something were to happen to it."
"Just say what you want to add, Silco."
The words came out steady, but you knew they weren't enough to fool him. Silco always caught the nuances—the smallest cracks in your façade, the ones you tried so hard to hide. And there he was, with that almost imperceptible smile, carved perfectly to provoke you. It was the kind of expression that made you feel as though, somehow, he was always in control.
"Always so direct." he murmured in that slow, deliberate voice, reaching for a cigar from the drawer. The way he handled it was almost theatrical, every movement carefully calculated to stretch out your anxiety. "Well, the proposal is more of a suggestion. I believe it would be far more convenient if you moved into one of the rooms at the Last Drop. During the weeks you're serving me, you would stay there."
You blinked. Once, twice. His words echoed in your head as you tried to absorb the weight of what he was saying. When you agreed to the arrangement, there had at least been one small consolation: the idea that, at the end of each day, you could return to the place you called home. Your little space. Your bubble of freedom. A place where you could continue your investigation far from Silco's watchful eyes and maybe remind yourself that you were still a person, not just his "property."
But now, even that illusion was being taken from you.
"This is your way of keeping me under custody?"
Silco laughed. A low, rough, and dangerously amused sound that sent a shiver down your spine. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk as he watched you with an unwavering gaze. The intensity of his orange irises, like burning embers, held you captive even when you wanted to look away.
"Keeping you under my custody?" he repeated, with a mock indignation so convincing it was infuriating. "Dove, you've wounded me deeply with such a heinous accusation. I thought we had something special here."
He lit the cigar with a silver lighter, the metallic click echoing in the heavy silence of the room. The scent of tobacco began to fill the air, mingling with the almost tangible tension. Silco took a deep drag, exhaling the smoke with a sigh that seemed laden with satisfaction.
"But, if you insist on putting it that way..." he let the sentence linger, releasing another slow puff of smoke before continuing, as though savoring the moment for as long as he could. Dragging it out too much for your taste. "Yes, I suppose that's exactly what I'm doing."
You couldn't stop yourself from rolling your eyes—a gesture meant to be full of disdain but softening into an ironic smile you couldn't quite suppress. There was something about Silco—that poisonous mix of brutal honesty and blatant manipulation—that left you unsure whether you should hate him or just play the game alongside him.
Somehow, his cruel transparency made it impossible to be as angry as you should have been. Deep down, what you really wanted was to cross the desk and punch him, but instead, you just raised an eyebrow, defiant.
"You're unbelievable, you know that?"
You stood up from the chair calmly, your eyes locked onto Silco's as you made your way around the desk. He, of course, followed every step with that sharp, almost predatory gaze. As you rounded the desk, you noticed the subtle way he adjusted in his chair, shifting slightly to track your movements as though he anticipated exactly what was coming next.
Without hesitation, you climbed onto his lap, sitting as if it were the most natural, casual thing in the world. Ironically, it was. Silco had, in an unexpected way, become your favorite "seat" and you were sure he was well aware of it.
"So." your tone deliberately provocative as your hands came to rest on his shoulders, "I don't think I have any other choice but to accept this clause. Although, I do have a few conditions."
Interest flickered in his eyes, but it was in the blue one that you noticed something new. His pupil dilated slightly—a reaction you'd never observed before. A small detail, but one that, in that moment, felt like a silent triumph. Silco leaned back in the chair, his body relaxing as though he'd already won the argument. He brought the cigar to his lips, taking a long drag before exhaling the smoke to the side, away from you. It was an unexpectedly considerate gesture—almost... sweet, if you had the nerve to admit it out loud.
His free hand, however, didn't waste any time. His fingers began to wander over your body, gliding along the curve of your waist, lingering at the line of your hip, before settling firmly on your thigh. The touch was possessive, demanding, as if he wanted to remind both you—and himself—that, in this moment, you were his.
"And what might these conditions be?"
You didn't answer immediately. Instead, you reached out and, without a hint of shame or hesitation, took the cigar from his hand. Silco's eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn't protest. You brought the cigar to your lips, inhaling with the ease of someone who had done it a hundred times before—even though it was your first.
The bitter taste filled your mouth, and the smoke wrapped around your senses. You exhaled slowly, letting the smoke escape deliberately as you kept your gaze fixed on his. There was something intensely intimate in the exchange, a sexual charge you hadn't planned but now felt inevitable.
"I want permission to roam freely around here." you said at last, your voice calm but carrying an undeniable tone of firmness. "After all, when you don't need me, I'll need some way to entertain myself, don't you think?"
You smiled—that mischievous smile that had gotten you into trouble more times than you could count. It was the same smile that, in a way, had landed you in this situation with Silco in the first place. "A fair request, in my opinion."
Silco remained silent for a moment, his eyes locked on yours. He seemed to be considering your words, but you could tell it was more than that. He was savoring the scene—every detail about you. The way you held the cigar, your posture on his lap, the interplay of smoke curling around your face... He seemed entranced.
"Permission to wander freely, hm?" Silco finally broke the silence, his voice heavy with provocation as his fingers on your thigh tightened their grip slightly. "I suppose that's reasonable, but don't think for a second that I won't be watching you."
You maintained your composure, letting the cigar's smoke fill your lungs before leaning slightly closer to him. As you exhaled, you released the smoke near his lips, watching as his blue eye darted momentarily to your mouth while the orange one stayed fixed on you. It carried a silent threat, a void of unspoken challenge that seemed to dare you to keep testing his limits.
"That's more than enough for me."
Boldly, you let your lips brush against his in a touch so fleeting it was almost ghostly, before pressing a gentle kiss—light, without any intent to deepen it. But as you began to pull away, you didn't get far. Almost instantly, Silco's hand gripped a fistful of your hair, firm but not harsh, pulling you back to him.
And it was he who deepened the kiss.
Silco's lips crashed against yours with a demanding, possessive force. There was nothing gentle or hesitant about it; he was taking what he wanted, and you knew in that moment, it was you. His tongue invaded your mouth with unrelenting confidence, exploring and claiming every inch. The taste of smoke lingered on his tongue, the bitterness of tobacco blending with an unexpected hint of sweetness—a contrast as singular as Silco himself.
There was something more in that kiss, something that sent shivers racing through your body as he held you captive within it. The last time the two of you had kissed, it had been different: rage had clouded your mind, turning the contact into a fierce clash. But now... now it was something else entirely. There was still roughness—Silco wasn't a man who did anything softly—but the hatred, the defiance, was absent.
If someone asked why you had kissed him, you could lie. You could claim it was a calculated move to ensure he wouldn't rescind his agreement to your request. A strategic play, nothing more. But deep down, you knew that would only be half the truth. The reality was, something within you had driven you to do it, to seek out that connection again, even if you didn't want to admit it.
You provoked him because you knew Silco would take the lead. It had always been that way. No matter how much you wanted to, it was never going to be you who initiated. Not with him. The power always had to appear to be on his side, even when you managed to twist it to your advantage.
The cigar slipped from your fingers, hitting the ground with a muffled thud. You registered the faint sound, your mind distantly aware of the minimal chance the ember might start a fire. Yet you didn't move to pick it up. Instead, your hands rested against Silco's chest, attempting to support your weight and keep your body from fully collapsing against his. Though, by the way he pulled you closer, it was clear that idea didn't bother him in the slightest.
A rough sound escaped Silco's lips—a low, restrained groan that you almost thought you'd imagined. Almost. His grip on your hair tightened, angling your head perfectly so he could deepen the kiss even further. His other hand wasn't idle; it moved slowly along the length of your thigh, his fingers pressing into your flesh with enough force to leave a mark.
When Silco finally broke the kiss, his lips began to trace a path along your jaw to your neck, his breath hot against your skin. You couldn't stop yourself—your body arched toward his, as if responding to an unspoken command.
"Don't provoke me, dove," he growled against your skin. "You know very well what happens when you do."
You laughed, but the sound came out short, almost breathless. It was hard to concentrate when Silco kept trailing kisses down your neck, occasionally interrupted by sharp nips that left your skin throbbing with sensitivity. One particular bite was harder, enough to draw a small gasp from you. Your body reacted instinctively, jolting slightly in his lap—and that was enough to elicit a sharp intake of breath from Silco.
From the way his eyes glinted and his grip on your thigh tightened, you knew he was just as affected as you were.
"Why not?" you murmured, a mischievous smile playing on your lips as you tried to catch your breath. "We're already in position, after all."
Silco pulled back slightly, just enough for you to see his expression. The gleam in his eyes, especially the blue one, was a dangerous mix of amusement and something darker, more intense. It was as if your words had sparked a new idea in his mind, one he was clearly considering with.
"Why not, indeed?" his hands slid to your hips, gripping them firmly as he pulled you even closer, as if it were possible to get any nearer. "Especially when you seem to enjoy this position so much."
Your fingers traced the contours of his face, exploring the unique texture of the scarred skin. When you reached the rougher, uneven area, you noticed something you hadn't before: a slight layer of powder there, likely applied to soften the appearance of the scar. You frowned slightly, intrigued. A question hovered on the tip of your tongue, but you decided to save it for another moment. After all, provoking Silco was always more interesting.
The prolonged touch seemed to captivate him, his gaze locked on yours as you explored his face with your fingertips. A charged tension lingered between you, and you realized that, in that moment, he was completely at your mercy—even if he hadn't noticed it himself.
"Well..." your voice carrying a faintly teasing tone, "You're the one above everyone in Zaun, so it's only fair someone gets to be above you, isn't it?"
With a mischievous smile, you shifted your hips slightly, emphasizing your words with the movement. The effect was immediate. Silco drew in a sharp breath, his own hips moving almost instinctively to match your motion.
"Someone has to keep things balanced around here." your tone suggesting the idea amused you. "Besides, you don't seem the least bit bothered by it."
His hands gripped your hips more tightly, his fingers digging into your flesh in a possessive gesture that nearly knocked the air out of your lungs. He stared at you now with an intensity that made your heart race. There was nothing innocent about that look. On the contrary, the gleam in his eyes seemed almost profane, as if he were contemplating something both sinful and indulgent.
He leaned forward, his lips brushing against your ear. The closeness sent a shiver through your skin, and his voice, low and gravelly, seemed designed to ignite something inside you.
"Bothered?" he murmured, each word weighted with a gravity that made your stomach flip. "Not in the slightest, dove. In fact, I'd say I'm enjoying the view from here. The way you look at me from above, with those eyes..." he paused, his warm breath fanning over your skin. "It's enough to bring a man to his knees."
You couldn't help the smile that curved your lips, a hint of amusement and even satisfaction at having him in this position. But the smile lasted only a second. Before you could even respond, you felt his fingers gripping your chin, firm, almost possessive, tilting your face so he could look directly at you.
The tone of his voice shifted. The soft murmur now carried a raw authority, irresistible, as though he'd decided exactly what would happen next.
"But I prefer you in this position."
The intensity of his words made something in your chest tighten—not with fear, but with anticipation. In that moment, you knew exactly where this was going. He tilted his head slightly, as if savoring your expression before continuing.
"Now, be a good girl and get on your knees."
Part 7
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Please read. I said I'd be back and I'm going to give you a spoiler: the next chapter it will be completely in Silco's POV and with a dose more smut than it normally would have. So suggest kinks that you'd like to see written in this series (I already have what I want to write in mind, but if I see an interesting idea that fits I'll add it, remember I can always use your idea in another chapter) And yes, in this story we fuck with Sevika! Remember when Babette tells VI that she's a regular customer at the brothel? I took this canon very seriously, but don't worry, there won't be a love triangle. Btw did you like Jinx's quick appearance in the chapter? (and yes, technically she would know what a prostitute is, but in my canon I can imagine VI punching Mylo at the exact moment he opens his mouth to explain. Our VI would protect our little and innocent Powder) I'll probably be back next year so HAPPY NEW YEAR! See you again in 2025.
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𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/064df17dac6f5208eeb970a612c94ed3/b17c5161a5f4fc82-e4/s540x810/16654f596ccaefc4b00def9506dfc0d8a4d2c0cb.jpg)
~ inumaki toge // fushiguro megumi ; jujutsu kaisen
✧˚ · . S Y N O P S I S : at night, you and your sorcerer friend take shelter in an inn room to take care of each other’s wounds
‧₊˚ c o n t e n t s : gn!reader, fluff, mentions of blood and injuries, making out, a bit suggestive maybe ?? (i’m still tagging it as fluff)
- gumi’s part: 'it’s complicated' friends to lovers, he tends to your wounds
- toge’s part : toge’s aware of your crush on him, you feel cursed energy through his kisses, onigiri ingredients in japanese, he uses harmless words at the very end, also uses cursed speech on you in the last sentence lol, you tend to his wounds
‧₊˚ a / n : wasn’t intending on posting this but anyways, this shots turned out kinda cute so, would’ve been sad to keep them to myself, also putting them together because both follow the same scenario and have many similarities
the reader feeling toge’s cursed speech was largely inspired by this 🫶🏻
also don’t question the fact that they’re in an inn room instead of the infirmary or smth okay just go with the flow bye 😭
• 𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎
You and Megumi somehow managed to check in the room without much questioning. Entering an inn late at night looking like you just got beat up was definitely something that would raise the front desk lady’s eyebrows, but you figured you had just gotten lucky.
You closed your eyes and sighed, Megumi’s footsteps came closer. You were sitting in the kitchen counter, knees apart from each other so Megumi could stand in between and attend to your wounds just like you had done before with his. His fingers lifted your chin up so he could see better under the room’s dim light. He pressed an alcohol drenched cotton ball lightly over your left eyebrow, making you jolt.
“Ouch!”
“Sorry” he mumbled “I’m almost done.”
Your eyelids opened slowly, finding him close to you, his dark eyes fixed on your wound. You studied his face in the meantime, long lashes contrasting with his pale clear skin, yet blending with his black irises.
“Can’t believe after all this time of being friends we just had our first mission together.”
“I’m guessing Gojo wasn’t sure of what would work well for us”
“That’s not what I mean, I mean we did great!”
He scoffed in slight amusement.
“Yeah, I knew we would”
“You mean you knew because I kicked your ass the last time we sparred?” a cheeky smile appeared on your face.
“As far as I remember, I was declared the winner” he raised an eyebrow
“Small details, truthfully it was a tie.”
“Right…” Megumi decided to cut the conversation, focusing more on wiping dry blood from your skin.
Finally he exhaled, his hand moved away, examining your face carefully. A soft frown appeared on his face as his eyes fell on your lips.
“Did you cut your lip?”
“Oh? Not that I’m aware of, it doesn’t hurt.”
“It’s bloody.”
Megumi’s fingers on your chin tensed up, sliding the cotton ball over your lip and then discarding it. He tilted your head to the right, blinking and squinting. With the same hand he was holding your jaw, he swiped his thumb over the lower lip.
With widened eyes you stared at him, alarm bells suddenly going off in your head and your irregular breathing hitting his skin, his gaze fixed on the way your soft lip molded under his fingertip. Tangled thoughts raced in your head, trying to figure out the sudden change in the atmosphere and the accelerating pace of your beating heart.
“It’s not wounded” Megumi’s voice was barely audible and you noticed the way his body had just gotten as stiff as yours, probably gaining awareness of the context you were both were surrounded by: him in between your thighs, under the cover of dim lightning and the silence of the night, being the closest to one another you had ever been.
Dark eyes wandered over your mouth, following his thumb as it now slid to the other side. Hesitantly, he moved even closer until his lips hovered over yours. The anticipation that filled the room made sure to cut off both your breathing and his. But then, Megumi closed the distance between your mouths, lashes lowering and hidden feelings bursting out into the open. Megumi’s kiss was soft, and you made sure to reciprocate slowly, easing into the unknown sensation of kissing him.
When the kiss stopped he remained still. Your shaky hands slid up his shirt, fingertips grasping the fabric to keep him in place for as long as the sweet burning sensation sat on your guts. You weren't sure of what came over yourself, maybe it was the curiosity of having him as more than a friend. Maybe it was the thoughts that had constantly whispered at the back of your head how attractive you thought he was, the thoughts you had made sure to ignore and so you never acted on them. Maybe it was the thrill of crumbling his aloof and distant demeanor in between your hands.
Maybe it had been all of those things together, but you slightly and eagerly nudged your nose against his. And so he kissed you again, with a deep sigh of surrender and his hands roaming up your thighs. The sounds of kissing filled the kitchen, your tongue sliding across his tongue, his hungry mouth now fighting against your, your fists pulling from his shirt. His fingers squeezed your skin, a breathy exhale left your throat almost becoming a soft whine.
Megumi’s hands then settled on your hips, until he suddenly stopped, freezing in place and then pulling away from you to search for your eyes. You stared back in a bit of a daze.
“What…” the black haired sorcerer tried to form a coherent sentence, but it seemed like his brain for once wasn’t cooperating.
“I…” you cleared your throat, blinking a couple of times “I don’t know.”
He swallowed, trying to find words once again.
“Listen, I…”
“It’s okay” nervously you tightened your grip on his shirt, now anxious of letting him go “we don’t have to talk about this today or tomorrow. We can just… forget it happened.”
Slowly, Megumi nodded.
“We can just let it be… for tonight.”
“Yeah” you pulled him close again, his body relaxed as he followed your movement and searched for your lips once more.
“Yeah, just for tonight…”
• 𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐈 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐄
Toge’s eyes followed you around as you picked and discarded objects from the first aid kit. At first he was annoyed at how much you had insisted on taking care of the wounds your last fight had inflicted, but at a certain point he had stopped complaining and just… stared. Now, you knew Toge wasn’t one to say much, because he couldn’t, but even when he didn’t say actual normal words he also wasn’t one to shut up. There was always some 'okaka's and 'tuna's and he would gesticulate here and there, he just had to let you know his opinion on absolutely everything. But now… he was absolutely silent.
You walked over to the kitchen counter, where he had sat down begrudgingly and now he was just lazily waiting.
“Bend over a little, will you?” you sighed, wet cotton in your hand.
His lavender eyes stared curiously, but he did as you asked and moved closer so you could reach for his face. There was a bloody scrape right next to his brow, product of a bad landing during the fight with the curse. You held your breath to gain courage and put aside your romantic feelings for the boy, then reached to cup his cheek with your left hand in order to keep him steady and started cleaning the almost dry blood.
He winced, a pitiful expression appeared on your face.
“Sorry” your voice softened “I’ll be finished soon, don’t worry, this is the last one.”
You expected him to say something, he would’ve usually just muttered a 'shake' or something, and yet he didn’t. When you were finally done you sighed once again, lowering your hands and grasping the edge of the counter.
“Alright, that’s it, why aren’t you speaking to me?” Toge raised a brow, as if your question was ridiculous to him “don’t look at me like that, you know what I mean.”
He pressed his lips against each other and then shrugged.
“Are you mad at me?” your brows almost touched, his eyes widened.
“Okaka” he immediately shook his head.
“Oh, so now you’re talking” he snorted, finally letting a small smile shine through “there’s something off, I can tell…”
He bit his lip and shrugged again, this time pointing to his head with his index.
“Thinking?”
“Shake”
“About what?”
His eyes seemed to shine in a peculiar way, trying to hold back a smirk. It was almost as if he had been waiting for you to ask that question for a while. Toge pointed at you, made a small heart with his index and thumb, and then pointed at himself. You blinked about twice, blankly.
“You’re thinking… about you and me?”
He squinted and motioned 'more less', then repeated the previous gesture: you, heart, him.
“You’re thinking…” you heart him. Suddenly your eyes widened, a blush rapidly crept up your face “you’re thinking i like you?”
Toge then grinned and nodded enthusiastically.
“Huh” you exhaled nervously, eyes shying away from him “right when i thought i was the best at understanding you seems like i still don’t get what is going on inside that head of yours.”
He chuckled, his right hand searched for his phone in his pocket and then quickly typed something up in the notes app. You just expectantly watched him as he conveyed his thoughts into written words.
“I’m not thinking you like me, i’m thinking i know you like me”
“Narcissistic much?” you quirked one of your eyebrows and he snorted “what makes you think that?”
“Just the way you look at me, and the way you act around me. Panda had pointed it out before but i’m just now thinking maybe he was right”
“I treat you just like all of my other friends!” you looked up at his eyes again, this time in defiance, but he tilted his head, raising his brows in disbelief “alright then, what have i done with you that i wouldn’t have done with anyone else?”
With a smile, Toge rubbed his cheek and then placed his index right on top of yours.
“Blushing?”
“Shake”
“You’re insinuating that I have romantic feelings for you, of course i’m gonna be embarrassed!”
Rolling his eyes, he nodded. Then, he cupped your left cheek, raising your face towards his and supporting your chin with his ring finger and pinky. You frowned, quickly catching up with the fact that he was holding your face in the same way you had done just moments before.
“… I was just taking care of you…” your whisper worsened your blush.
“always”
He chuckled at your shocked expression, the sound waves of his harmless words making you shiver. It wasn’t everyday that he’d risk speaking normally.
“… well, yes, i care for you”
“a lot” you bit your lip, there was no denying that, so you swallowed your nerves and looked away, he snickered “you’re cute”
Once again the surprise froze you, the power in his voice making your body tremble, what he had said made a sweet nervous feeling flutter around your stomach. He leaned in, you held your breath. Toge placed a lovely kiss on your lips, and you delicately but firmly kissed him back, the sliding of his lips on yours enticing and elating. A soft wave of cursed energy flowed through your mouth, but the moment he slid his tongue on your lower lip and you opened your mouth it rose in intensity. You had to cling from his shirt to keep yourself steady, the moment his marked tongue brushed against yours a sharp wave of electricity ran down your throat, pulling a whimper out from your vocal chords.
He pulled back to look at you and you panicked, embarrassed.
“I’m- oh god i’m so sorry!” your face was burning red at that point “it’s just that- i can feel your cursed energy.”
His eyes widened with surprise and worry, hopping off the counter his hands grabbed your shoulders.
“Takana?!”
“I’m fine! I’m totally fine” cupping his face you tried to comfort him, and it worked, he relaxed, but you pulled him closer again, your noses brushing “it felt… really nice…”
You lips searched for his, Toge smirked in amusement to your reaction, but he complied. So slowly, he kissed you again. The feeling of his energy running trough you seemed to make the blood in your veins rush in bliss, pulling sounds from the depths of your chest. Suddenly his hand slithered to the back of your head and he deepened the kiss, the mark on his tongue making contact with yours and making you gasp and jolt against his body. Toge giggled, but caught you in his arms, resting his back on the counter.
“Come on Toge, won’t you have mercy on me?” you complained, Toge shook his head slowly, and by the way he smiled you knew he was about to pull one of his stunts.
“Be louder” his lips immediately crashed back onto yours.
#; fluffy belle#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#megumi fushiguro#jjk fushiguro#jjk megumi#megumi x reader#megumi x you#fushiguro megumi#fushiguro megumi x reader#megumi fushiguro x reader#inumaki toge#inumaki x reader#jjk toge#jjk inumaki#toge x reader#inumaki toge x reader#toge inumaki#inumaki x y/n#jjk brainrot#gn!reader
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P*rn ☆ Introduction
Masterlist Word count: 1 k Sylus x Fem!Reader
Summary: You have been following a spicy content creator by the name of Red Crow for some time now. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what would happen when he moves into the apartment next door.
Warning! This story is meant for mature audiences. It contains sex, swear words, porn, smoking, intimate piercings, mentions of drugs, and other mature themes. Do not engage if you are under 18.
Mature content under the cut. This part is setup. No graphic content yet.
∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘
It's been fucking years! Not by your choice. No, not at all. You just hadn't had the time or the energy, but God do you crave it. It hadn't really bothered you the first year. You had gone on dates regularly, but despite your love for intimacy you need a certain level of connection before you lay down and take it. Sure, you had a few nice connections but no one that managed to turn you on.
Not like he does.
Ever since your regular booty call called it off, you started watching some adult content. At first nothing really seemed to call to you. You were flipflopping from category to category as if you were flipping through a magazine, leaving you high and dancing on the edge of full gratification every single time. Sure, you came but it never felt that great.
Then you found him.
Tall as a fucking mountain, grey hair, red eyes, sly smile, toned body, strong nose that's ever so slightly crooked. You even remember the little scar under his left eye. But what does it for you, most of all, is his voice. Low and gravely, constantly teasing and commanding. There's something more to it though. When he gets to the edge, it's almost as if he wants someone to take over and it fucking gets you going. Makes your panties go from bone dry to soaking wet in a matter of seconds.
Worst of all, the man has a TikTok page and a Tumblr page. Neither are all that suggestive. The TikTok has some thirst traps and workout videos, but the Tumblr page is a different story. On there, he reads spicy romance books to his audience. He had tried it before on YouTube but got taken down real fast. Those books, the way his voice picks up and changes with the story. It's truly something magical. You'd almost consider it better content than the videos of him stroking his dick, though you don't mind that those exist at all.
And today is Friday, which means he's posting a new chapter and there's a possibility of a new video on TikTok. Nothing too riveting but enough to get you going and keep you going for the weekend. You're looking at a long and satisfying weekend with your magic wand. Just one more hour until your shift is done.
∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘
'Again?!' Sylus’ voice booms through the living room of his apartment. If it were any louder, the walls would shiver. 'I was so fucking careful this time,' he says through gritted teeth. His hand has a strong grasp on his phone, almost snapping the thing in his fit of rage.
"I don't know what to tell you man. Maybe someone followed you?" Kieran, the ever daft creator that makes spicy content with his friend Luke, tells him in the kindest voice he can must up. He knows just as well as Sylus that the man is impossibly popular. It all happened overnight just a year or two ago when he made a video humping a pillow and groaning praises to a nonexistant partner. Ever since then, he's been making content solo. It's doing much better than his partnered stuff used to.
It also came with unwanted attention. Sylus lives for the praises and truly feral comments on his socials and spicy content, but this. This goes too far. It's the third time in as many years he's been doxed. If it were a stalked he could go to the police but it seems to be someone different each time.
Sylus groans and runs a hand through his hair. 'I should move further away this time.'
"That's the understatement of the century. Just be glad they haven't got your name yet."
Yet. The word rings in Sylus’ head for a little longer than he would like it to. If those feral women and men got his name, he would never get any peace again. Sure, he was the one that decided to put his face in all those videos and that might've been stupid. It is stupid. Especially for someone who likes his privacy as much as Sylus does.
"Oh, Luke just said he knows a place for you. He has a friend who owns an apartment ages away from your place. He's been looking for someone to lease it to."
'I can trust this person?'
"Yes, for sure. I know this guy too. He's some flamboyant artist that owns too many properties to keep track of who lives where." Sylus sighs, a rumble going through his chest.
'Fine, get me the contact info.'
∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘
'You doing anything fun this weekend,' your friend and colleague Tara asks with a sweet smile. You almost spill and tell her, but she's far too pure to understand any of your desires. It'd be better to keep this friendship as wholesome as it is.
'Nothing much. I don't have any plans for once. I'm probably going to binge that TV show you recommended.'
'Oooh, tell me what you think about it,' she replies excitedly. At that moment, a car honks, and she looks up. Her lovely boyfriend is waiting for her in the car. 'See you soon,' she says with a quick wave and off she goes. The man even gets out of the car to open the passenger door for her. Such a nice man. He waves to you and you nod back. You know him a little, but he never comes along to any company events or dinners. If you're not mistaken, his name is Kieran. Nice guy.
You make your way to your car and drive home. Traffic is terrible but uneventful. All you can think about is sitting down on the couch at home and listening to whatever Red Crow has cooked up this time.
Next
#lads sylus#l&ds sylus#lnds sylus#sylus#love and deepspace sylus#sylus love and deepspace#sylus smut#sylus fanfic#sylus fanfiction#lads sylus smut#lads sylus fanfic#lads sylus fanfiction#l&ds sylus fanfic#l&ds sylus smut#Spotify#sylus x reader#sylus x mc#sylus x fem!reader#lnds sylus smut#love and deepspace sylus smut#sylus love and deepspace smut#sylus x reader smut#sylus x mc smut#sylus x fem!reader smut#l&ds sylus fanfiction#lnds sylus fanfiction#love and deepspace sylus fanfiction#sylus love and deepspace fanfiction#sylus x reader fanfiction#sylus x mc fanfiction
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Something Borrowed (Michael Corleone x Reader)
Summary: Michael Corleone is the last person you expect to see at your best friend Connie’s wedding, and the last thing you expect to happen upon seeing him again after so many years is spending the night together. Maybe, it'll turn into something more.
Note: Female reader, but no other descriptors are used. No hate to Kay, she’s my girl, but wedding scene Michael drives me crazy🤭 She’s off living her best life elsewhere in this. Also, it was a lot of fun writing pre-everything Michael. Do not interact if you’re under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.
Word count: 2.8k
Warnings: Sexually explicit content involving unprotected sex. Light play fighting.
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Champagne and giggles overflowed at Connie Corleone’s wedding to Carlo Rizzi. Plenty of red wine was passed around in pitchers for the old guard, of course. For you and the other women conscious of not staining the rainbow of cocktail dresses and flowing gowns that dotted the backyard, you opted for lighter fare in tall flutes that sparkled in the early autumn sun.
Perhaps you were a bit too enthusiastic about the drink offerings, having already exchanged three empty champagne glasses for ones filled to the brim with glittering gold when the bride engulfed you in a hug. With a delighted laugh, you returned the gesture, kissing her cheek.
“I wanted to say thank you one more time for coming!” Connie exclaimed, her cheeks flushed pink from the excitement of the day. “God, it breaks my heart we couldn’t have gotten you a bridesmaid dress in time, but you look gorgeous.”
“Me? Connie, you look like a princess.”
“I feel like one,” she giggled.
“When you see your gift from me—I’m sorry it’s not more, I haven’t—”
“Stop it!” she scolded. “You came all the way from Europe just to be at my wedding. I couldn’t ask for a better friend.”
You didn’t bother correcting her. Her version of events sounded much nicer than you just got lucky with when the Red Cross put you on a boat home. “Anything for you.”
“I won’t keep you. This is probably the first time you’re eating real food in years. Mama, Sandra, and Theresa made most of it.”
Connie was right. You tried to savor your plate, packed with pasta drowned in homemade sauce, antipasto and crusty bread, and sandwiches that towered with fresh cold cuts. The Corleones knew a thing or two about good food, and had the means to pull the strings for the unfathomable ration books such a feast required.
A familiar yet unexpected voice startled you when your fork pierced a piece of mozzarella. “Is this seat taken?”
“Michael,” you practically gasped, taken aback by his even attending the wedding in the first place, but also how good he looked in his uniform. Cap tucked under his arm, medals and decorations on his chest, the photos you’d seen in the magazine didn’t do him justice. Finding yourself again, you gestured to the empty seat across from you. “Go ahead.”
“I can’t remember the last time I saw you, but you look great,” he said, his gaze fixed on you as he set his plate and glass down. He took you in, the girl he’d grown up seeing around the house and at school, now, without a doubt, a woman.
“You too, Captain,” you said, nodding toward the double bars on his uniform.
He snickered at your little joke, making you feel a bit more at ease in his presence. “I’m surprised you aren’t in the wedding party.”
“Honestly, I wasn’t even sure I was going to make it until a few days ago. I only just got back to New York on Thursday,” you said.
“You volunteered with the Red Cross, didn’t you?”
You nodded. “I was in England, and then France after the liberation.”
“Clubmobile, right?”
“Did Connie tell you?”
He shook his head, smiling the slightest bit. “All the pretty girls worked the Clubmobile.”
A mortifyingly girlish giggle escaped your lips. You quickly brought your glass to your mouth, though the champagne in it was likely the culprit of your embarrassing reaction to Michael’s compliment. Averting your eyes to the dancing guests, you tried to ignore the warmth that spread across your face.
You allowed yourself to look at him again a few moments later, relieved to find he was still sitting in front of you, amused, maybe even endeared, by you.
“You’re such a jerk, Michael,” you mumbled, only because he was your friend’s older brother, and when you were younger and starry-eyed and figuring out what it meant when your heart wouldn’t quite beat right around a boy, it was him who those tender emotions were kindled in secret toward—until you had your first real boyfriend.
He grinned at your remark, and the two of you ate and caught up in between his various family members stopping by the table to say hello. You weren’t sure what to make of his seeing you before any of them—flattered, a bit confused as well, but he laughed at your jokes and moved his seat closer to yours, so you must have been doing something right when he finally asked, “Do you want to dance?”
“I’d love to,” you said.
The chaos from Johnny Fontaine’s unexpected arrival and impromptu performance subsided when Michael led you out to dance. He held you close, the way soldiers had at the dances the Red Cross put on for servicemen, all to boost morale, or, as the war went on, to offer a break from reality. Among the many rules meant to be followed—and typically broken in one way or another in the haze of war—was to keep some emotional distance from the enlisted men, for your sake and their own, but with bodies so close together, tender touches and soft whispers over songs of twilight and moonbeams, it was tough not to be caught up in romance’s alluring snare.
Even then, with the war behind both of you, something about being in Michael’s arms made you truly understand why some girls risked their assignments for a man. There was something in how he looked at you, different from your childhood together, even from a few minutes prior. You felt breathless despite the slow song you swayed along to.
“Did you like Paris?” he asked quietly, throwing you for a loop.
You furrowed your eyebrows. “Paris?”
“You were in France, weren’t you?”
“Not Paris.”
“Where in France were you slinging doughnuts, then?”
“Little villages a few miles out from the front, mostly. More cows than people, but nice enough once the fighting stopped, and it was finally quiet—as quiet as it could get, anyway,” you said. “When Connie wrote you’d been wounded, I couldn’t help but think the worst. Plenty of guys out there—well, that article sure put me at ease. All the girls were jealous when I said I knew you.” You smiled. “I’m glad you’re alright, Michael.”
He glanced at your lips, and for an aching moment you were sure he was going to kiss you, but instead he gave you a smile, one that was real and made your heart flutter nevertheless, but left you disappointed.
“Where are you staying since you’ve been back?” he asked.
He seemed familiar with the hotel you were staying in when you mentioned it, offering to drive you back after the reception ended, and Connie and Carlo left for their honeymoon.
“It’s only until I can find a boarding hotel that has space,” you said. “I mean, it doesn’t have to be the Barbizon, but I’m not moving back in with my parents.”
“Here’s to that.”
The rest of the day and into the evening, Michael hung around you, unless he was pulled away by members of his family, each instance an annoyance to him. You knew they weren’t exactly supportive of his enlisting, but the situation couldn’t have been that bad, not since he was home, safe and sound at his sister’s wedding.
The Corleones, though endlessly kind to you, always been an odd family, and you learned through your friendship with Connie not to ask too many questions.
But Genco Abbandando was dying, and Vito insisted Michael go with the rest of the Corleone men to pay his respects to the elder. When you offered to take a cab back to your hotel, Michael promised the visit wouldn’t be long, suggesting you wait at the house with his mother until he returned to drive you into the city.
Your foolish desire to spend more time with him led to your waiting in the Corleones’ kitchen for a little over an hour, when you likely would’ve been showered and in bed in your hotel room by the time he arrived back for you, in one hell of a hurry to get you into his car and presumably get away from his family.
“Do you ever think about leaving New York?” he asked when the house was out of view.
You laughed. “Michael, I only just got back.”
“That’s not what I mean. The war—it wasn’t going to be forever, but it let you see what life could be like away from all of this, didn’t it?”
“Of course it did. I’m honestly not sure what I’m going to do with myself now,” you said. “How about you? Are you going back to school? Dartmouth, I mean.”
He nodded. “I start again the spring semester.” At a red light, he glanced over at you. “New England’s nice. Better than French cow country.”
“And do you suppose I could study in the department of pouring coffee and serving doughnuts?”
“You’re smart. I think you have a real future,” he said, the sincerity in his voice startling you. “All of that back there, that’s not for us. It never has been.”
You were silent for a few moments. “I guess you’re right.”
The city lights twinkling in the distance took the place of the stars they blocked out from the sky, growing larger as Michael crossed the bridge into Manhattan, the center of the universe. You’d never tell a soul how you cried just a few days prior upon seeing it again for the first time in years.
Besides his talk of the future, Michael kept the conversation light, and you could’ve sworn he was flirting with you. Working the Clubmobile, you learned quickly how to pick up on it, some men laying it on thick while others were irresistibly smooth. Michael could’ve easily just been teasing you, the way a friend’s older brother would, but when he pulled up to your hotel, either your ego or curiosity prompted you to invite him up for a drink.
You sobered up on the drive into the city, enough to remember you didn’t have any drinks in your room. The two of you would have to go to the hotel bar for that, but then you and Michael wouldn’t be alone, not how you wanted, anyway.
To your relief, he agreed.
With Michael in uniform, few questions would be asked by hotel staff as to why you suddenly had a man with you when you checked in on your own. It would have been easy to lie, claim he was your fiance who had only just gotten back Stateside. But you supposed you and Michael already looked the part, walking arm-in-arm through the lobby without an issue.
Your confidence soared on the elevator ride up to your modest room, which you let Michael into, knowing he wouldn’t judge the state of your accommodations.
“Mind if I make myself comfortable?” You didn’t wait for his answer, pulling your blouse from where it’d been tucked in your skirt. Slipping out of your heels, you sighed softly in relief.
“It’s your place,” he said, setting his coat over the chair in the corner and loosening his tie.
You grabbed his cap from where he set it down and placed it on your head, tilting the brim over your face a bit and posing in front of him with a hand on your hip. “How do I look?”
He sat down on the edge of the bed, giving you a once over, “I swear I saw you pinned up in some guy’s tent looking just like that.”
You laughed, taking the cap off and flinging it aside. “Oh, I don’t even know why I invited you up here!” Your laughter faded as something in your stomach turned sour, the situation feeling achingly too good to be true. Alone in a hotel room with Michael, the two of you entirely capable of making your own mistakes on the off chance he wanted you too. “Or why you even agreed to come up.”
“I didn’t come up here to drink.”
“No, you did it to be nice, because we’ve known each other for so long…” You sighed, sitting next to him. “I always figured you thought of me as your kid sister’s annoying little friend or something.”
He shook his head, saying your name softly in either protest or reassurance. His hand cupped your face as he turned it toward him, his thumb rubbing soft circles in your cheek. “Not for a long time. Especially not tonight.”
You kissed him, hands gripping his shoulders, closing your eyes as you melted in his embrace. Your skin feverish at his touch, you shuddered when his hand slipped up your untucked blouse until his fingertips reached your bra.
To say you hadn’t fantasized about Michael would have been an unconvincing lie to anyone who dared ask, but even in your wildest dreams, it was never quite like this, so bold and irreverent in the face of the tradition the two of you had just spent the day celebrating.
“I came up here because you’re beautiful,” he confessed against your lips, “because you’re the only familiar face I saw at my sister’s wedding that didn’t make me wish I were somewhere else.”
Silencing him with another kiss, your fingers raked through his soft black hair as your body pressed flush against his, unsure if you could withstand hearing more of his tender words without falling to pieces. You couldn’t, not so early in the night, but his desire grew difficult to ignore when he pulled you onto his lap. The pressure against your pussy made you moan, and with a hasty desperation, you shimmied out of your panties as he unbuckled his belt, freeing his hard cock within a few moments.
You slipped a hand between the two of you, pumping his length, feeling the way it twitched at your touch and gasping when Michael’s hips bucked. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, a whisper of an intent to devour you.
“I need you, sweetheart,” he groaned. “Need to feel you.”
Lifting your hips, you whimpered upon feeling his head brush your clit as you positioned yourself, slowly lowering as he filled you, cock throbbing against your walls that clenched around him. He assuaged the pain of taking all of him with a gentle kiss and soft praises, urging you to take your time, that you had all night together.
All night. The promise he would stay, at least until the morning, sent a teasing wave of pleasure through you. Gripping his shoulders, you tried to keep a steady pace as you rode him, wanted to show him that staying would be worth his while. He’d been right in the car, you wouldn’t be a virginal, wedding white bride. The both of you had seen and experienced too much to be considered innocent any longer, but it was something you shared, that no one else from that day would have understood.
Your thighs ached as you neared your climax, desperately chasing it despite the exhaustion that was creeping up on you. Crying out in frustration, you buried your face in the crook of Michael’s neck.
“I’m close,” you whined. “Michael, I—”
“I’ve got you,” he assured you, his hands making their home on your hips.
Your eyes fluttered shut as you let him guide your body, his thrusts doing most of the work while you rocked against him, seeking the friction against your clit that would bring you to release. It caught in your throat, a broken groan from your lips to his ears as you came, clenching around him, pleasure rolling through you, rattling your body like thunder. You barely caught your breath when he came, shuddering against you, practically cradling you against him as he filled you.
With a whimper, you lifted yourself off of him and rolled back onto the bed. Placing your hand on your chest, you felt your rapidly beating heart beneath your fingertips, focusing on it as it slowed the following minute or so and ignoring the stickiness between your legs, the evidence you slept with your best friend’s older brother.
Michael leaned over, brushing back the hair that stuck to your face. “What are your plans tomorrow?”
“Looking through the classifieds for a job,” you said honestly.
“Wanna put it off for a day?”
“With what money, Michael?”
“I’ll give you a line of credit.”
You grabbed one of the pillows from behind you, throwing it at him with a laugh. “Jerk!”
He grinned, pushing it aside to grab for one of your arms. You put up a weak fight, your breathless laughter giving away his almost certain win.
Having pinned you down beneath him, he pressed you for an answer. “So?” He kissed you. “What do you say, sweetheart?”
You rolled your eyes, smiling despite yourself. “I guess I can clear my schedule for a dashing war hero like you.”
“Dashing, I like the sound of that,” he murmured, bringing his lips to yours again, softly, with a tenderness that promised more for tomorrow, and even the day after, if you’d have him.
You smiled. “Me too.”
#michael corleone x reader#the godfather x reader#michael corleone#the godfather#the godfather fanfic#the godfather imagine#michael corleone fanfic#michael corleone imagine
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<< nine | 😺 | eleven >>
Posting early so you have something to think about on Thanksgiving. I'll be taking a break from posting my wips in December to focus on all the events. Speaking of, check out @genderthings @stmonstercalendar and @stevieweek
"They're so—" Eddie's sentence is broken with a yelp when Stephanie slaps his hands.
"Fluffy?" Steph offers, going back to closing up her salon. "Soft? Healthy? They won't be if you keep touching them."
He huffs, slotting his hands under his armpits so he wouldn't be tempted to reach up.
"If you want, I can get you some of that conditioner to take home. You could charm all the city girls with your nice hair." She turns to him with a smile, looking over her work once again. She pulls a strand of his hair back in place and Eddie imagines his band making it big, touring with a private hairdresser fussing over him before every concert. They'd take all the cats on the tour bus too.
"The city girls like my unkempt poor artist looks, thank you very much," he jokes. "The boys may appreciate it, though."
"For the boys, then." She smiles. "Did you walk here?"
He shakes his head.
"Nah, I'm too lazy for that. You?"
"I try to walk to work as long as the weather lets me," she says. "Need to keep the old bones in shape." She pats her plush thighs distractingly, but it's not enough for Eddie to miss her words.
He rolls his eyes.
"Your bones aren't old. I was gonna offer you a ride, but maybe you deserve to walk since you're so young and energetic," he sends her a wry look.
"Ah, but I always wanted a ride in a big old kidnapper van!" She bats her eyelashes at him, her playful pout in full swing. Eddie is so, so weak.
"Don't call it a kidnapper van." He scrunches his nose. "It's a stoner slash garage band van," he corrects her.
"Ah, mea culpa. Lead me to your stoner van, then?"
"You call yourself old and yet you act so insufferable," he shakes his head with a smile and offers her his elbow.
"Gotta keep something about me young," she jokes back and then yelps when Eddie pinches her in the side as she grabs his arm.
"I think there's plenty young about you," he says, giving her a pointed up and down.
"Yeah, bet you say it to all the old ladies," she snarks back. "When you help them cross the street or carry their—ah!"
"Oh my gods, Stephanie!" Eddie cuts her off, pressing her against the side of his van. "If you think you're old then call me a geriatrophiliac, because you're so hot I can't think about anyone else."
Steph's eyes are wide and her cheeks are flushed and he wants to kiss her so badly. He backs away, though, because he's a gentleman (sometimes) and wants to give her some space. Besides, he probably just crossed some lines he shouldn't have.
She breathes out once he steps back, and chuckles.
"You're just saying that," she deflects, making something in Eddie boil. "You're out there in college and I'm stuck here with my small hair salon."
"Oh, you mean you're a successful hot businesswoman with her own salon and plans to branch it out?" He raises an eyebrow, putting his hands on his hips.
"Plans," she points out.
"Very plausible plans," he adds.
Stephanie shrugs.
"Just, get in the car before I lose my patience." He shakes his head. But then seeing her hesitance he deflates, losing his bravado instantly. "Unless you're not comfortable with that? I promise I'll drive you straight home."
"Why would I be uncomfortable?" she asks, her voice a little small like she knows exactly why but doesn't want to put it out there. Albeit reluctantly, Eddie will do it for her.
"Because I said I'm into you and now I'm inviting you inside my shady not-kidnapper van," he reminds her.
"Yeah, but you're just saying that to make me feel better." Steph shakes her head softly, smiling her small, self-deprecating smile. "Which I do appreciate, but..." she trails off with a shrug.
Eddie is fed up with her. As beautiful as she is, her head is a maze she's clearly getting lost in and someone needs to pull her out of it.
"Can I kiss you?" he butts in, realizing she's losing steam.
"What?" Her eyebrows jump in surprise.
"Oh, you heard me." He takes a step closer, crowding her in. Maybe space is the opposite of what she needs. "Can I kiss you?" he repeats. "On the mouth. Tongue and all, if you don't mind."
He watches in real time as her cheeks turn red and her gaze drops down to his lips.
"Here?" she breathes out.
"Yes, here. So everyone knows how lucky I am."
She looks up into his eyes, searching for any deceit but she won't find any. Her lips press together and come back shinier, wetter, and Eddie's own tingle in anticipation.
"Are you sure?"
Eddie's done with her. And done for her. He knows she won't admit what she wants, won't ask for it even when laid down on a silver platter in front of her. So he changes his question.
"Just say 'no'." He leans just a tiny bit closer.
She doesn't. Her eyes zero on his lips and her chest expands with her deep breaths. Eddie leans in more, and she twitches like she wants to reach back but won't.
He closes the distance.
Stephanie smells of hairspray and coffee. She's soft and perfect and he's afraid she'll flee if he touches her, but to ground them both, he reaches with his arms to cup her elbows, a safe place to hold her and not spook her. He moves his lips gently, slowly, but then he feels a tug on his jacket, which she grabs to hold on to him, and presses just a little bit closer.
Eddie feels the exhale from her nose on his cheek as she relaxes against the van, giving him the illusion of towering over her, despite them being almost the same height. He slowly drags his hands up to caress her neck, angling her jaw gently how he wants it. When he finally sucks on her pouty bottom lip as he's been dreaming of, she exhales into him, tentative yet asking. She jolts at the touch of his tongue but parts her lips further anyway.
She feels like heaven and Eddie is almost ashamed by the sound he makes after tasting her properly, but her hand slides to his waist and he doesn't care about making a fool of himself in front of her and anyone else for that matter.
If she wanted to, he'd deck himself in full jester attire just to make her smile, to take the load of worry off her chest. Oh, how he wants to take things off her chest. It's been a while since a simple kiss made him feel so giddy, so exhilarated, and he hopes she feels it too.
He's excited for what's to come, not just in bed, though he hopes, yearns for that too, but making her happy and whole, seeing herself how he sees her.
The sharp sound of a whistle pulls them apart.
"Get a room, kids!" someone laughs jovially as a car slowly passes by, but by the time their heads snap towards it, it's gone behind the corner.
"Well," Eddie chuckles softly. "Still feeling old?" he asks Steph with a smile that quickly falters when he can't read her expression. A million things he could have done wrong fleet through his head and he takes half a step back, but her hand is still holding on to his jacket.
She's still relaxed against the van, so he forces his brain to quiet and waits. Her head tips back, exposing her neck and the faintest hint of an Adam's apple, invisible otherwise. He's ridiculously happy to be able to see it and hopes he'll be able to suck on it too.
"I feel..." she finally says, and Eddie latches to every sound leaving her lips. "Something, for sure."
Nothing else comes so he trails his palm down her arm to gently squeeze at her wrist.
"Good something?" he asks hopefully.
Their eyes meet again, giving him some relief, though the prolonged silence is fighting against it. He still waits and gives her time to think. She doesn't shake off his hand so he rubs his thumb against her pulse point.
Until it twists in his grasp, and he's ready to let go but she grabs at his fingers to squeeze back.
"I think so," she finally decides, giving him a small, tentative smile.
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my ko-fi bc i'm in deeper shit than i thought
the boys: @wheneverfeasible @steddieinthesun @hattsy-likes-pretty-stuff @bumblebeecuttlefishes @phantomcat94
@tartarusknight @tinyplanet95 @steddiefication @estrellami-1 @disrespectedgoatman
@madigoround @tartarusknight @blasvemous @cryptid-system @lawrencebshoggoth
@hellowhatthehellisgoingonhere @dreamercec @manliest-of-muppets
#steddie#mine#stevie harrington#crazy cat lady stevie#transfem steve harrington#cw: age gap#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#steddie fanfiction#stevierything#older steve harrington
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