#cause youre a commodity

[ciswomenofficial]

Transhumanism is just another mode of alienation with ones own body as made manifest by the capitalist mode of production. Customizing one’s body to every little degree to the point that it’s not properly a human any more all for a price. Getting a piercing is one thing, hormones is one thing, even surgery is one thing, but taking apart ones human body so that one can replace those parts of it or even it in whole with a machine? This is a capitalists solution to fear of death, to human existence, to simply do away with it rather than confronting it. I swear to god, none of you fuckers could imagine looking inward to solve any of your problems, and once you solve them with technology within this mode of production you’ll probably be miserable. Please don’t give yourself brain damage for some stupid brain chip, don’t disfigure yourself for a robot part. If the transhumanist future comes, most of you will probably only be the willing test subjects who get horribly fucked up by these technologies in order to make the technology for alienated bourgeoisie to make themselves (safely and probably still miserably as it won’t solve any of their problems) into gods

[grubbion]

Thank god and Reagan for the Curses, Hexations and Department of Soul Revenue. In a routine audit they spotted this ludicrous misinterpretation of the by laws and her wife was swiftly and tragically collected the very next business day. All debts have been cleared, and collections is no longer seeking to resolve any outstanding balance with The Princess or her associated parties.

We at C.H.aD.oS.R. value a proper resolution to any cross commerce transactions. The Princess was informed of the original contract she had signed in her own years of loneliness, and how her attempt to avoid a payment has negatively effected her credit score and will be visible in all future credit checks. The original curse loan specialist was present and confirmed that the princess was of sound mind and willing body, not under duress of soul when she signed the contract.

The princess was cursed that her first husband will die a tragic death. The princess decided to have a wife instead.the person who put the curse on her did not check this would happen

[t-a-a-1]

Can you do bayverse optimus ?Tlk if you can.It can be whatever you want i love your scrumptious writing hehe also ignore this if you're uncomfortable!^_^

Raindrops

Summary: Optimus asks you a very important question.

A/N: Written after the happenings of TLK. 4K Words

Raindrops

....

Everyday since he met you, he’s asked himself the same question. 

“Would you come with me?”

It was a question he had imagined the answer to. A resounding ‘no’.

Optimus didn’t see any reason why you would want to go with him to Cybertron. Leaving your friends, family and career behind. All the commodities Earth provided you will be gone the moment you decide to come with him.

And it’s not like he offers you a beautiful home. Cybertron was hostile, after the war it had become ruins. He dreamed many times of showing you his home in its golden age. You would have loved the museums, the theaters, the libraries, the arts. Would you have loved them as much you love your planet? Would it be enough for you to want to stay?

“It seems Earth and Cybertron’s destiny has always been intertwined,” the sun is setting. Optimus looks at his home planet, now on Earth’s orbit. “If that had been any other celestial object, it would probably cause catastrophic events. But it seems like Cybertron was made to not disturb Earth’s gravitational pull and magnetic fields.”

Your field wasn’t physics but you had basic knowledge on how things worked. Just like he expected you to do, you started to ask the real questions. Something he was trying to avoid as long as he could. 

“But I wonder if that’s because Cybertron currently lacks a core … Maybe once we are able to restore it, Cybertron’s gravitational pull will be too strong and destroy Earth.”

You look at him but he seems lost in thought. You didn’t blame him, having his home planet back must be unbelievable. After so many years of war and lost friends, what he always wanted is right here. 

“When that happens, we’ll have to send Cybertron back to its original place in the universe.”

You expected him to continue the conversation some way or another but it's as if he wasn’t listening or rather he did not want to. Maybe he is tired of everything and wishes to leave immediately. Probably not wanting to deal with humans anymore. 

Sighing heavily, you turn around, the wind moving your hair. The smell of the grass was strong and so a new aroma. It was hard to describe. Metal but alive. It was probably Cybertron. It didn’t bother you but it was different. 

Looking back at Optimus made you realize that maybe he wanted to be alone. It is a lot of process for today. 

“Well, then I guess this is goodbye–”

And suddenly, a servo is in front of you. Stopping you from walking any further. You look back, only to find Optimus’ faceplate extremely close to you. 

“I-I … My apologies, I don’t know what took over me.”

It’s like you triggered something in him with your words. But you weren’t sure what. Now he looks confused and lost. As if I wanted to say more but can’t or don't have the words. You wanted to guess but your mind made you believe stupid ideas. Ones in which you prefer to not indulge any longer. They will only cause you unnecessary pain. 

“It’s alright, you must be emotional. That’s all.”

You wait for a few seconds in which you could see Optimus’ blue optics in all of their glory. They were beautiful as they were mysterious. So close that you could see the small circuitry and cables that make up his optics. Such intricacy that you find yourself lost in them. 

And then … you are ashamed. 

“I must go.”

You say as you look away, expecting him to move his servo but he doesn’t. 

“I must go.”

You say again and this time you see the hesitancy in his faceplace.

He slowly removes his servo and distances himself from you. His optics looks away and then looks at you in a repetitive manner. 

“Do you–”

“I–”

“Oh sorry, you go first–” You raise a hand, trying to get his attention only to be interrupted by the Prime. 

“No, you go first.”

It was awkward. And the fact that it was that way made you wonder what went wrong. In what moment did things between the two of you become so uncomfortable? Was it just the sudden realization of final peace? Was it too unrealistic for the two of you to believe? What is it? 

“Nothing, I was just wondering if there’s something you wanted to say before I leave?”

Optimus servo clutch into fits. He opens his intake but nothing would come out. It was strange to see him this way. So confused, so … innocent. As if he was a kid trying to ask for another piece of cake. Too shy to ask and yet you find these small moments to be a treasure. 

“I was just wondering …” 

He hesitates again. He closes his optics and lets out a heavy vent. Turning his entire body around, you are unable to see his faceplate. 

“When the time comes … Will you …”

His voice becomes so low that you are unable to hear him. 

“What?” 

You ask him, confused by his sudden lack of confidence. 

“Will you … me?”

He says again but the loud wind and low tone voice weren’t helping the situation. 

“... What?”

You ask once again, your voice gets louder, showing your clear annoyance at being unable to hear him.

“Will you come to Cybetron with me?!”

Suddenly, he turns around, you can see his faceplate again. 

It was that expression again. One that you had only seen a few times. That of pure distress. Worriness. Anxiety. You had seen it before. During that time you had been captured by a Decepticon, badly injured and bleeding. His troubled expression was the last thing you saw before going unconscious. 

But now? What was that distressed look for? What was he so worried about?

“I, I–”

What were you nervous for? Why were you stuttering? Your cheeks are getting hotter and you can’t speak. You can’t manage words. The expression on his faceplate had left you stunned as your brain tried to understand the reasoning behind it. 

The longer you take to answer, the more pain is evident on his faceplate. His eyebrows squish together and his optics tremble. His lips formed a thin line that slowly became an upside down smile. He is begging you to end his torment and yet you know you have to tell him the truth. 

.

.

.

.

It’s quiet around the hangar. 

A small base had been built near Stonehenge. It was the logical thing to do after Cybertron had appeared above the ancient pillars. Although the American Government wasn’t too pleased to make negotiations with the British to let them have a base in their land. 

You weren’t even supposed to be here but due to all the commotion in the last days, they let you stay. As well, Optimus and the rest of the Autobots enjoyed your stay. No one asked you when you will leave nor ever mentioned that you were a bothered. So you decided to stay for a couple of days until things settle down. 

And because your boss had asked you to stay and bring back the full story when you are done. 

“Are we just going to pretend Prime is ok?”

“Not like we can do much either or.”

They probably didn’t see you. As they were too busy talking to each other, carrying a few boxes of what you thought to be Energon. Meanwhile, you were typing on your laptop behind some piles of metal. It’s not like you were hiding but you rather found yourself a place where you could not be bothered when you needed to concentrate. 

“I still can’t believe (Y/N) said no … I thought the two of them had a strong bond.”

“Yes but everything she knows is here,” Bumblebee puts down his box as Hot Rod walks close by.  “Besides, they were too different … things wouldn’t work out.” 

“But does she even know that Optimus’s processor has identified her as his Conjunx?” Hot Rod also puts the Energon box down and sits on top of it. “Boss-Bot won’t be able to attach to anyone ever again … Isn’t that a bit cruel?”

“Cruel?” Bumblebee inquiries. “His Conjunx is someone who lives a fraction of our lives. The universe enjoys the game and the Primes are the pawns.” 

“And they know how to play well.”

It started to rain. It wasn’t unusual for rain to come and go in England. 

The bots look at it with amusement. This was unknown in Cybertron. It will take a long time before they can rebuild Cybertron and go back home but this will be one of the things they will miss the most. 

“What is a Conjunx?”

You came out of your hiding spot, behind the bots and they quickly stumble in their steps as they look down on you. 

“What are you doing there?!”

“What is a Conjunx?”

You ask again, not caring whether Hot Rod or Bumblebee looked like they just had seen a ghost. 

“You don’t need to know that,” Bumblebee quickly starts to walk away while Hot Rod keeps looking back and forth. He looks hesitant but doesn’t speak, waiting for Bee’s next action. 

“You said Optimus saw me as his Conjunx,” you don’t move but rather speak loud enough for him to hear. 

“Yes but there’s no need–”

“She should know,” Hot Rod interrupts the talking yellow Mustang. 

“Optimus wouldn’t want it,” Bumblebee stops walking and turns to look at his comrade and you. There is certain determination in your eyes, letting him know that you won’t stop pushing it until you find the answers you were looking for. You had always been known for that, probably something Optimus likes about you. 

“Optimus will die of sadness if she doesn’t know.”

Bumblebee doesn't say a thing but just ex-vents heavily. 

.

.

.

“Would you stay with me?”

That’s what you wanted to ask but you already knew the answer. A resounding ‘no’. There was nothing for him on Earth. Humanity had once betrayed him and now he is doubtful. Humanity will help rebuild Cybertron and after that the transformers will leave. It would be a selfish thing to ask him to stay. You can’t ask him to give up on everything he fought for. His home, his family and friends, everything was on Cybertron. And you just were a human who wanted him to stay. 

It’s still raining. 

But that doesn’t mean you’ll stop looking for him. 

Although you can already feel yourself getting sick. Your hair is wet and your clothes damp. 

It wasn’t unusual to rain in England but you hated how unpredictable the weather was. The wind was also strong but the base was already too far away to back away now. You had to find him. 

Suddenly, a truck you immediately recognized makes his way towards you. The bot you were looking for appeared in front of you but he aggressively stops and opens his pilot door, signaling to go in. 

You didn’t hesitate and jumped right in. Optimus closes the door and starts driving away as you are welcomed with warmness. Although you were cold and tired, you didn’t wait any longer.

“I was looking for–”

“Have you gone mad?” Optimus asks, his voice showing his clear annoyance. “ What are you doing in the rain without proper protection?”

“What? That doesn’t matter, I was–”

You wanted to start asking questions but you started to sneeze. 

“How can I leave knowing you are this helpless?”

And after that, all previous questions left your mind. 

“Excuse me? I can take care of myself.”

“Your actions tell me otherwise.”

You roll your eyes, maybe he had a point. Running in the rain to look for him was probably not the best of ideas. But you were not about to tell him that. 

“And what about you?” you sneeze again although more softly this time as to not to prove his point any further.  “Aren’t you too told to be outside without an umbrella, you could be getting rusty anytime now?”

Optimus didn’t say a word. Your words will resonate at the back of his processor. He can’t believe he ever thought you would say yes to coming to Cybertron with him. You were right, he was an old rusty robot. Too many scars, too many mistakes and injuries. He can’t provide you with anything. Not even a family. 

And yet he is selfish. 

And you sneeze again.

And again.

“Great, I think I am going to get sick.”

He hates that word. Cybertronians also get sick but rarely. But humans are different. According to his research and observations, humans tend to get sick often and tragically a lot of them die. 

Optimus didn’t want to say a word, his pride told him to stay quiet. That you don’t need his concern, you do not wish it nor want it.

But you sneeze again.

“I’ll be taking you to the closest hospital,” he says as he makes a turn, heading for the closest road. 

“I am not going to the hospital, it's just a cold–”

“You are going to the hospital and it's final,”His voice is demanding but you don’t care.

“No, I won’t–”

“Why won’t you take my feelings into consideration?!”

His inside trembles. You could feel how his engine gets louder. The air coming from his vents got warmer and for a moment you felt your heart race. Out of guilt for making the Prime lose composure.

“What if you die?” he asks again. “What would I do after you are gone?”

The more he talks, the more desperate he sounds. As if he was living the circumstances he speaks of. 

“Have you thought what my life would be like without your presence?” you feel the seatbelt across your chest get tighter. “Do you really wish for me to be tormented for eternity.”

“This isn’t about me going to the hospital, is it?”

He doesn’t respond, his silence answers your question. 

“Let me out Prime, I want to talk to you, face to faceplate.”

He drives off the road and takes you to a heavy section of a nearby forest. Raining still, the tall trees prevent the rain from fully touching the ground. But some drops still make it through. Not like you cared about getting wet, you already were but Optimus had other plans. 

Opening the door and removing the seat belt, you jump out of his alt form. You watch him transform, a scene you will never be tired of. It's beautiful as it is scary, yet he is gentle. He knows it can be scary and he moves slower, softly as if not to scare you. 

Optimus doesn’t mass shift but he tries to see you at an eye-level. It must be uncomfortable for him and before you ask him why he doesn’t size-down, you feel him move closer.

He puts one of his large servo on top of you, protecting you from any rain from touching you.

“I want you to be honest with me,” you say as your breath is agitated, your heart pumping against your chest.  “I need to hear it from you.”

“What do you feel for me?”

Without you knowing, Optimus’ spark is also pulsating strongly against his chassis. He moves his optics away for a second, only for them to return to look at you. 

“You are a valuable asset to the Autobot cause.”

“Is that all?”

“You are also an important comrade.” 

You didn’t expect him to fully understand what you were asking. But you were hoping he could read your undertones. 

“I am giving you one last chance,” you say, your hands turning into a fist. You weren’t the best at this either and if you were honest, you didn’t know what you were trying to achieve.  “Is that all you feel for me?”

The Prime has always been known to be eloquent. Especially with words. But when it comes to you, he loses all sense of vocabulary. It didn’t use to be that way. There used to be a time when you meant nothing to him but a friend. 

But you had never stopped looking for him. After the attacks in Chicago, even after Sam’s death, an occurrence in which he blamed himself, you never stopped looking for him

What is it? Why did you do it?

“Look at the rain … Can you count each drop that falls from the sky?”

Optimus moves his optics to look at his surroundings. The rain, the trees, the beauty of nature. It cannot compare to you. 

“No, I can’t,” you respond quickly, your face full of wonder.

“Then, you are the rain,” he says.  “And I am trying to count.”

He sees your hands soften. Your expression had become awkward, with now avoiding eyes and pink cheeks. He has this need to hold you but respects your anatomy. 

“I can’t tell you how I feel because there are not enough words to describe it,” he calculates his words but he finds himself taking longer to answer. “I could recite you all of Cybertronian poetry and yet that doesn't feel enough for me.”

You keep looking at him and he looks away. Your eyes were too beautiful and it distracts him immensely. 

“But if you were to ask me to count each star in the universe I would,” he lets his spark do the talking, finally subsiding the yearning it has been holding for a long time.  “If you asked me to bring you a star, I would bring you a constellation.”

“This old rusted body belongs to you but if you ask me for my silence and distance, I won’t retaliate.” 

“And if I asked you to stay with me, on Earth, would you do it?”

You know it was a selfish question. You didn’t want to make him choose between his world and you. But you just had to know if there was a small possibility, a small chance that the life you had with him could still be a possibility. 

After the accidents in Chicago, you had looked for him, only to find him broken. Sam’s death had affected him greatly but in that grieve of losing loved ones, something sparked. 

Three years. You had lived with him for three years, in an isolated cottage. Where he could have all the dandelions he wanted. Where he could care for animals and the two of you would look at the stars and try to count them. Each one of them. 

“If that’s what you wish,” Optimus says. “I would stay by your side as long as you would have me.”

“I can’t,” you look away this time. “I won’t ask you to stay with me.”

“You have a duty to complete and Cybertron is your home,” there is more to it. More doubts than you are able to articulate.  “When you asked me to go to Cybertron with you, I said no because I don’t think I am worthy to be on your side.”

“Have my actions made you feel this way?” 

“You are Optimus Prime … I think anyone would feel unworthy,” you pause, thinking about the earlier events. “But today, Bumblebee and Hot Rod told me that you see me as your Conjunx.”

Optimus opens his intake only to close it. He looks side to side, trying to evade eye contact. One of the few times you can tell he is shy. But him acting in such a way has also made your body betray you. You wonder if he can tell just how nervous you are. 

“Does that mean — You do?”

“You weren’t supposed to know,” his voice is delicate with an apologetic tone. As if you had just caught him stealing extra energon from the resource room.  “Without noticing, my processor had one day started the Conjunx Ritus and as time passed, we both successfully completed the requirements.”

“And before I knew it, my Spark belonged to you.”

“But we are so different.”

“And yet here we are,” he makes a pause and he hears the rain. He tries to calm down before asking his next question, knowing that this will break his Spark. “Does my affection displease you?”

“No, no, I just–” you stumble with your words. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Is there a possibility that perhaps, in your heart, you reciprocate my sentiments?”

And you stay silent. Mostly because you don’t fully know what is going through your heart and the implications behind it. Can this even be possible? Are your feelings even real? Can he comprehend what your feelings are? Can this … Whatever it is, be real? 

“Please end my torment,” his faceplate looks to be in distress, his optics yearning. Longing for something unknown to the both of you.  “Your silence makes me have hope and I don’t want to suffer when you destroy my delusions.”

Gently, you walk towards him. You reach out a hand and touch his faceplate. Rubbing your soft skin against his cold metal. You watch his optics close, his engine gets louder just a bit but you hear him. As if your touch had saved him, healed him from whatever his processor agonized him with. 

“You are cold,” you say as you put your forehead against his faceplate. “Until you get warm, I’ll stay with you.”

Optimus didn’t need to ask further. You didn’t have to say anything either. He just basks himself into this moment. Not knowing what the future holds but he doesn’t care as long as you are with him. This moment won’t last forever but he wants to think that one day it could be true. 

A moment were he believed he could spend eternity counting the raindrops and stars in the sky with you. 

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

A/N: Sorry this took so long. I’ve seen all the Bayverse movies but TLK is a movie that is a bit hard for me to write about because I don’t understand it much lol. But I still hope you like this and that it's not too OOC?  

It was fun to write this! So thank you so much for the request! :) 

[moonlight-prose]

origins logan, raw, passionate, in a truck, while it rains, a little wine drunk. Yeah. 😁

i have no clue if this is a request or just a thought, but i ran with what my mind thought up. but also cause i haven't written anything fully in two months so this is me practicing to get my voice back. enjoy the heinous mess.

warnings: 18+ only past this point.

You expected to freeze with the shitty little heater blowing air cold enough to raise bumps on your flesh. The overbearing echo of rain slamming against the rusted exterior of his worn in (near broken) truck. You expected to die of hypothermia. With the coroners report noting the time of death to be the second he opened that bottle of wine.

You expected a lot of things to go wrong.

That's how you managed to survive this long. In a world so hellbent on destruction, you took the cynics way out and managed to save time on the ride. Things were fucked, hope somehow managed to become a commodity the wealthy could profit off of. And mutants were enemy number one without actually being hunted for fun.

So you took note of the way your breath hung in the air—the flavor of bitter cheap red wine like a pungent toxin that only sunk you deeper onto the silver claws of fate that promised protection. Even as they offered exposure to the elements. You watched as his eyelids grew heavy, his gaze fixed on the way your top gaped and fingers gripped onto the soft leather of his jacket.

You expected this to go wrong too.

That your words would fall on deaf ears, that you would fumble as he slid a hand between your denim clad thighs. How long would it take for him to jolt back to reality? To understand that you were far too much for him to handle as the world fell on his shoulders.

How long could you get away with feeling wanted, yearned for?

When your fingers clawed at the leather seats in the back, your mouth open and chapped from the cold, is when you stopped. Thoughts slipped past the inner psyche of despondent reality. Hope washed over your spit covered shoulders as he bit down on the plush skin with a grunt. Life appeared bright and hot and burned with something new the second he plunged into your sopping cunt.

"That's it," he muttered, lips catching the shell of your ear as his cock carved a new path in your once aching body. "Open up for me baby."

Your words escaped as a mewl. Eyes rolling back and nails digging new shapes into seats he'd have to fix.

He laughed at your mindless state of bliss. "Gone and made you dumb huh? Cleared out that pretty head of yours."

"L-Logan," you managed to grunt, hips slapping back to his quick timed thrusts that struck gold.

"'S okay." Another bite to your spine had your thighs shaking, the slap of his balls lewdly hitting your clit made sparks embed themselves into your soul. "I like ya better this way. You think too fuckin' much anyways. Gotta shut out the bad shit don't I?"

"I'm gonna-"

"Yeah I know you are," he bit out, fingers digging shapes of intent into the flesh of your hips.

You were aware of the truck rocking back and forth. Of the mist gathering on frozen windows and your moans swallowing the sound of rain. You could feel the tingle of red wine in the base of your stomach. The haze of its beauty clouding everything but him and the small confines of this hot car. You were aware of nothing going wrong, of his cock grinding wet and raw into you, of the pool of slick forming on the seat of his car.

Nothing bad existed in this sphere of bliss. Nothing horrid could happen.

Claws punctured the seat beside your head, his hips slapping fast enough to hurt as the tight coil of tension snapped hard enough to halt your heart.

"Fuck!" he roared, sinking into you deep enough to scrape something aching and lovely. His cock twitching hard with each spurt of cum—spilling out onto your mess on shitty brown leather.

Sucking in a breath felt easy, uncomplicated. Your mind drifted into blank thoughts and images of him. Into a state of bliss with Logan's name scratched on the walls.

You expected to freeze. To lose a limb or two from the air cold enough to kill. But then his body settled over yours, his hands cradling your stomach, face pressed into your back. And warmth became the only language you spoke.

[roseghoul26]

Cooper Howard | The Ghoul x fem!Reader

Synopsis: After being captured by The Ghoul, he had dragged you through the hot desert of the Wasteland. You were so thirsty, and you’d do anything for a drink of water. And you meant anything. Tags: Smut, Practically No Plot, Humiliation, Begging, Spit, Blowjobs, Throat Fucking, Thigh Riding, Biting, Hate Sex(?), maybe OOC The Ghoul but I think I got it right, Not Beta Read, there's still consent because i can’t write severe noncon Author's Note: i had so many “why am i writing this” moments yet i still finished it i’m so sorry. 

You don’t think you’ve ever been this thirsty in your life. 

Scratch that, you don’t think anyone’s ever been as thirsty as you currently are. 

Even though you had no saliva left to swallow, you tried anyway, your throat feeling like sandpaper. It caused you to cough, earning a disgruntled noise from the ghoul currently holding you hostage. 

The Ghoul. Infamous bounty hunter and the cruelest person you’d ever met. Of course, you only found out who he was after he captured you. You’d never even heard of a ghoul until a few days ago, your sheltered life in Vault 14 withholding information about the surface to you. 

You wished you were back home, suffocating as it was. At home, you wouldn’t be forced to walk countless miles under the boiling Wasteland sun. At home, you wouldn’t have a lasso around your neck, preventing you from running off. And even if you did manage to somehow escape the rope confines, you’d seen how accurate of a shot he was. He’d kill you before you managed to keep a foot away from him. 

You glanced back at him, The Ghoul, who had his sawed-off shotgun casually trained on you. He seemed unaffected by the heat, by the sun beating down on your faces. His hat made sure of that, and you supposed that you didn’t have to worry about sunburn if all your exposed skin was melted by radiation.

It had been hard, looking at him at first. After spending your entire life surrounded by “normal” humans, it was a shock seeing him for the first time. You’d seen burn scars before, sure, but never this severe, every inch of him covered in them. Of course, that wasn’t the most off-putting part. That had to be the complete lack of nose, an empty socket where the cartilaginous appendage should be. 

It unsettled you deeply, but you found that you couldn’t stop looking at him, a sick part of your brain enjoying it. You didn’t dare delve into that part of your mind right now, though, your current circumstance is significantly more important. 

He had stopped you in Filly, and after a brief discussion had decided that he was taking you with wherever he was going. You had no say in the decision, and even when you fought and kicked and screamed he still managed to get you bound. A few people tried to help, not because they cared about you, but because they had also wanted to get their hands on a “Vaultie”. Apparently, you were worth something to them up here, a commodity of sorts. It made your skin crawl. You’d gotten firsthand experience, then, of how good of a shot The Ghoul was. 

How you longed to be back in the stuffy Vault, working as a teacher to those kids. As annoying as they were, at least they weren’t currently threatening your life, or making you walk to who the hell knows. You’d take that over this any day. Hell, you’d take latrine duty with overflowing toilets every single hour over this. 

You fixed your attention back in front of you, the endless stretch of sandy dunes in front of you broken up by partially destroyed houses and skeletons of buildings. Your feet were in incredible amounts of pain, every step feeling like you had fifty pounds of bricks attached to your ankles. And that thirst, never ending, overwhelming thirst you felt nagged at you, consuming every thought of yours. You’d take anything to drink now, even that definitely radiated puddle you’d passed hours ago. Or was it minutes? You couldn’t tell.

You knew dehydration had long since started affecting you. You were no longer able to form sweat, and you were certain that your body was slowly cooking from the inside. You were almost certain it would be a better fate than whatever The Ghoul was leading you towards. 

You hadn’t even realized he’d stopped until you felt a sharp tug at your throat, nearly toppling you on your ass. You heard him chuckle as you steadied yourself, and you shot him a glare. Even faced with death, you weren’t going to let yourself be treated like this. “We’re stopin’ here,” he gestured to a dilapidated building to his right.

You had been surprised when he spoke the first time, not expecting a southern drawl. You’d never heard an accent like his before, only ever hearing them on the Holotapes your Vault would play for movie night. You’d also believed them to be fake, or to have died out with the rest of humanity. You had to admit, the one good thing to come out of this whole experience was hearing his voice. 

Momentarily confused as to why you were stopping, your eyes focused, and you realized that the sun was half set. You’d learned rather quickly that it was suicidal and stupid to travel across the Wasteland at night, after an almost perilous encountered with what you assumed to once be a bear. You’d barely escaped with your life, climbing a tree until the creature grew disinterested and found new prey. 

You almost wished it had torn you apart then. 

Apparently you were taking too long, and you felt another tug at the rope, pulling you closer to him. “Ain’t got all day, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. The name was anything but sweet, saying it with so much condescension that it made you flush angrily. At least, that’s what you told yourself. 

Grumbling something under your breath, you stormed past him, another low chuckle leaving him. “Nothin’ good is gonna come from that mouth on ya,” he threatened, waving the gun at you in a go on motion. 

The shifting sand nearly caused you to stumble as you ducked into the house through a window, and your eyes struggled to adjust to the low lighting. Holding your breath, you listened for anything else in the house besides the two of you, and when you were met with only your heartbeat, you continued further in. 

Entering what used to be the living room, you saw a large couch, still in relatively decent condition, and luckily free of decomposed bodies. Any wood furniture, however, had already decayed, leaving only fragments where they once stood. You realized that if you were to sit on the couch, it would probably crumble under the weight.

The Ghoul entered behind you, and you made your way down the hallway, checking each room for anyone or anything that could do you harm. The first room was a bathroom, sand filling the bathtub like it was water. Out of desperation you almost tried to turn the handles on the sink, lift the seat of the toilet, do anything for a drop of water. But you refrained, not willing to stoop to that level yet. But you could feel that you were close. 

The next room was a large master bedroom, completely destroyed from when the bombs fell. Sand covered everything, and the walls had practically caved in, leaving you exposed to the outside. There was no where you would stay there willingly tonight. 

The third and final room was also completely devoid of life, but the empty crib in the middle of the room had you gasping, and you heard the click of a gun behind you as The Ghoul prepared for anything. You quickly shut the door. “Nothing, sorry,” you managed to croak out, and you heard him scoff.

However, you saw that he did manage to catch a glimpse of the room before you closed the door, and in those still human eyes you saw something flash through them. Sadness? Longing? Anger? You couldn’t tell, but you sure as hell weren’t about to ask him about it. 

Living room it is, then. Heading back to the original room, you watch The Ghoul sit on the couch, right in the center of it. It held, surprisingly, but you could hear the wood groan in warning. Spreading his legs, you watched him tilt his head back, a content sigh leaving his mouth. 

If you had the energy to blush, you would’ve as you watched him, finding yourself having to look away. Maybe dehydration was messing with your brain, the way you thought that was attractive. What the hell was wrong with you, you thought. 

Thirst quickly chased those thoughts away, and you attempted to lick your dry lips, your tongue mostly sticking to them instead. You were about to go explore the bathroom until you remembered the rope around your neck. 

Like he could read your thoughts, you watched him regard the lasso in his gloved hand. “You gonna run off on me if I take this off, sweetheart?” 

You shook your head, excited to have the irritating rope no longer chafing your neck. “You’ll kill me before I could,” you responded, voice barely a whisper.

The Ghoul barked out a laugh. “Damn right I will.” He considered your response for a moment, and you fully believed that he was going to keep it there. That was until he stood, almost inhumanly fast, approaching you with long strides.

Holding your breath, you felt his tug the rope off your neck, those eerily human eyes never leaving yours as he did. You flinched when you felt one of his leather-clad fingers brush over the irritated skin. Your heart beat rapidly in your chest, mostly because of fear, but also for another reason that you refused to name. 

With a satisfactory smirk, he looped the lasso back onto his belt. You quickly exhaled when he stepped away, eliciting a coughing fit, which was dry and only irritated your throat more. Fuck, you were so thirsty. 

The Ghoul sat back on the couch in that same lounging position, and you debated sitting on the floor in front of him, but you feared that if you rested now then you’d never get back up. You watched him set a lantern on the ground, the weak oil based contraption the only source of light in the entire room. You didn’t ask why he didn’t start a fire; you also learned to not do that early on too. 

So you remained standing, even though your feet screamed for relief. You ignored them, shifting to try and alleviate the pain slightly. Rubbing your neck, you could feel that he hadn't once taken his eyes off of you, and it was making you increasingly unnerved. “You gonna stand there all night?”

You crossed your arms. “Yes.” You tried to sound defiant, but it came out more like an airy noise.

“Suit yourself, then.” He rolled his eyes, making a show of getting comfortable on the couch. “It’ll be a long night for you, that’s for sure.”

Swaying, you leaned your back against one of the barely-standing walls, screwing your eyes shut. You occupied your thoughts with memories of home, trying desperately to ignore the pain. You were mostly successful, that was until you heard the sound of a canister being opened. 

Curious, you opened your eyes back up, nearly falling to your knees when you saw him drinking from a circular canteen. You must’ve made some noise, because he was now smirking at you. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and you watched a droplet of precious water trail down his scarred chin, dripping onto his dusty clothes. 

“See somethin’ you want, sweetheart?” He was unabashedly cocky with his tone. 

You son of a bitch, you thought, glaring daggers into him.

“Now, now, no need to be like that,” he chuckled, taking another sip. “Just tell me what ya want.”

He wanted you to ask for it. He wanted you to be at his mercy. Groaning, you rest your head back against the wall. You don’t think you’ve ever hated anyone as much as you hated The Ghoul. Any humanity left in him had been stripped away, leaving behind a cruel excuse of a human. Despite that, you couldn’t deny the way your heart continued to patter in your chest as he stared at you expectantly, that cocky attitude doing things to you that would leave anyone who knew you horrified.

“I…” you tried to talk, but your voice proved to be too scratchy. Clearing your throat as best you could, you tried again, ignoring the way he looked at you like a predator would his prey. It was similar to the bear from earlier, but you’d take that now over the ghoul in front of you. “I need water.”

He tsked, crossing a leg over his lap. “And here I thought you Vaulties were raised with manners.”

It took everything in you to not just snap at him, but that would leave you without any water. “I need water, please,” you gritted out. 

The Ghoul shook his head disapprovingly. “Shame,” you heard him mutter, before he was slowly pouring the water out onto the floor behind him.

Sheer panic tore through you, and if you were able to form tears, they would be in your eyes. “Wait, wait, wait,” you pleaded, your voice cracking and breaking, and you lunged forward. The click of a gun had your blood going cold, but he at least had the decency to stop pouring. You held your hands up, taking a few steps back.

Registering that you weren’t going to attack him, he lowered the gun, but he still kept it on his lap. If he had any eyebrows left, you’re sure one of them would be raised, waiting for you to continue. 

“I’m- I’m sorry,” you stammered out, keeping your hands in the air. “I just… Can I please have some water? Please, I-I… I need it. I’m begging you… please.” You wondered if he could even make out your words. 

You watched his eyes travel up and down your body, and he cocked his head. “Are you?” You made a confused noise, and he chuckled lowly. “Are you beggin’ me?”

One problem that you always had at the Vault is that you never knew when to shut your mouth, and what you said next certainly made it clear that you hadn’t learned yet. “You want me to get on my knees, then?” You had meant it sarcastically, and you immediately regretted it when his eyes went dark. 

You heard the creak of the couch as he planted both feet on the ground, leaning forward until his elbows rested on his knees. His guns barely stayed in his lap, but he didn’t seem to care. “Now that you mention it… yeah.”

Humiliation warmed your cheeks, and you nearly let your pride stop you from sinking to the floor, but then you saw the way the canteen hung precariously in his hand. Damn it all. Taking a deep breath, you lowered yourself slowly, unable to look at the man, not wanting to see his victorious reaction. The sand shifted beneath your knees as you rested on them, but you could barely feel the relief your feet finally felt.

“Can-”

“Closer,” he cut you off gruffly. “And I want those eyes on me.” His voice had turned husky, and you realized he was enjoying this. Were… were you enjoying this too? You honestly couldn’t tell.

Wordlessly, you obeyed, shuffling forward until your knees bumped into his shoes. Your ears burned worse than they did out in the sun, and you wished it would just explode and incinerate you right now. “Eyes up, sweetheart,” he practically purred. 

You took a moment to prepare yourself before you were looking at him through hooded eyes. The brim of his hat cast a shade over his face, and you could only see the hungry glint in his eyes matched with a predatory smirk. Oh, he was loving this, and you couldn’t help but squirm under his gaze, heat pooling in your belly that was quickly doused by shame. 

“Can I please have some water? Please? I- I’m really thirsty and… just a bit. Please.” 

His grin grew more as you begged, and you sagged with relief when he brought the canteen closer, no longer dangling over the back of the couch. “See, that ain’t so hard now, was it?”

“I’m sorry,” you found yourself apologizing, for what, you weren’t quite sure. You weren’t too upset about it, though, especially when he brought the canteen to your lips. 

“Head back,” he ordered, and you did, your neck straining at the angle. You swore you heard him groan when you parted your lips, never breaking eye contact with him. The water was disgusting and acidic, but damn if it wasn’t the best thing you’d ever had the pleasure of drinking. He poured it into your mouth, and you desperately swallowed every single drop, the dryness in your mouth and throat instantly being quenched. 

But it wasn’t enough, and you couldn’t help the disappointed noise you let out when he ceased the pouring. “More, please,” you found yourself whining, any remnants of shame tossed out the broken window you’d climbed into.

“Manners, Vaultie,” he growled.

“Thank you, thank you,” you repeated like a mantra, and The Ghoul let out a pleased hum. Thirstiness still clung to you like a second skin, but you felt better than you had moments ago. Some of your energy had returned, and you felt like you were no longer in the grasp of death. 

“You want more?” He asked, and you immediately nodded.

“Please,” you whispered, and you saw something almost wicked pass over his features. 

“Don’t worry,” you felt one of his gloved hands sneak around your back, collecting a handful of hair and tugging, forcing your head back even further. You cried out, a mix of shock and pain. “You’ll get more. Just keep that pretty mouth wide open, just like that.” His normal drawl had turned into an almost rasp, and you shuddered. 

You watched as he took a swig for himself, but he didn’t swallow, keeping the water in his mouth. Confused, you closed your mouth, but as soon as you did you felt him pull hard at your hair. Obediently, you opened it back up, a shaky exhale leaving you.

If he had a nose, it would be currently pressed up against yours. He adjusted so that he was practically towering above you, and man did the angle kill your neck, but you didn’t dare complain. With increasingly widening eyes, you watched as he slotted his mouth above yours, not touching, but you could still feel the heat from his body. 

You nearly flinched when you felt the water hit your mouth, fighting every instinct that told you to shut it. The act was filthy and degrading, but you’d be a liar if you said it wasn’t getting you incredibly aroused. Your Vault-Tec suit was becoming suffocating; it hadn’t even felt this bad when you were outside. 

As he sat back on to the couch, his lips glistened in the dim light, stray remnants of water still coating them. As you held the water in your mouth, he frowned disapprovingly. “Do I gotta spell it out for ya?” He shifted forward again, grasping your face. “Swallow.” 

When you did, he let go, tapping your cheek lightly. “Atta girl,” he cooed, and you sputtered, cheeks growing warm. Shifting where you sat, you tried and failed to relieve some of the tension in you. You thought you were subtle in your movements, but his sharpshooter gaze locked onto it immediately. 

He laughed, a mix of surprise and condescension in one. “This gettin’ you turned on? Maybe you ain’t all that innocent, Vaultie.”

You eyed the half-hard tent in front of you. “I’m not the only one,” you grumbled out, and he laughed again. 

“I ain’t the one on my knees, sweetheart.”  Scoffing, you watched him lean back again. You expected him to say something, do something, but he simply watched you with anticipatorily. Something shifted in the atmosphere, and you realized he was putting the situation in your hands, wordlessly asking you how far you were willing to take this. 

You needed this. You needed him, as bewildering as it was for you to admit to yourself. 

Desire running deeper than that for water coursed through your veins, and you nodded. “More.” You both knew that you weren’t fully talking about the canteen in his hand. 

“Good answer.” Before you could even register, he was gripping your face again. Fingers pressed into your cheeks harshly, opening your mouth back up. Taking another swig, you expected him to repeat what he’d done last time, but you were startled when you felt his lips on yours. 

It was a strange kiss, his closed mouth against your open one, but it didn’t stay like that for long. His lips pulled apart, and without needing further prompting you swallowed another precious mouthful of water. You could feel that bastardly smirk against your mouth, and if you were anywhere near being able to create a coherent thought you would’ve said something. 

But you didn’t, you couldn’t. It was like you were caught up in some haze, but you were sent out of it when you felt his tongue sweep into your mouth. You’d kissed a few people, sure, but never like this. It elicited a startled noise from you that had him pulling back an inch, and you had to fight yourself to not chase after his lips.

“Never had that before?” He chuckled, and he found your following silence an adequate enough answer. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m gonna fuckin’ ruin you.”

He didn’t even give you a moment to react before he was crashing his mouth back against yours. It was all tongue and teeth and it had you moaning, and you felt the grip on your face tighten. Your head spun, and you tried to keep up with his movements, but you ended up just letting him take over, moving his mouth against your however he’d like. 

He nipped at your lower lip with his teeth, and your hands shot out, no longer able to just keep them idly in your lap. You found purchase on his thighs, the sinewy muscles tensing under your touch. But the grip on your face tightened more, almost incredibly painful. Your eyes shot open, alarmed, and a pained noise left you. 

He had pulled away again, a string of saliva still connecting your mouths, but he was glaring down at you. “You better watch those hands.” Even though his voice was husky, the threat didn’t make you any less terrified. 

You were confused, and you watched his eyes trail down to his lap where your hands were. Unable to move your head, you had to strain your own eyes to look down, and sheer dread washed over you when you saw his gun still in his lap, your hands a mere inch away from it. 

“I- I wasn’t… I didn’t… ” you gasped breathlessly. “I didn’t know! I- I’m sorry! Please.” Out of all the times you’d begged and pleaded tonight, this time had to be the most genuine. Immediately retracting your hands back to your lap, you awaited his response tensely. What you failed to notice was the way his eyes darkened as you groveled, his pants growing tighter.

His gaze returned to your face, and out of the corner of your eye you watched as he moved the gun from his lap into his hand. You half expected him to point it at you next, but you let out a very audible sigh of relief when he set it on the couch beside him. It was completely out of your reach now, but he could still easily grab it. 

He loosened the grip on your jaw, still holding it, but no longer digging into your flesh painfully. “I won’t stop you next time,” he growled, and it took you a second to register what he was saying: he won’t stop you next time because you’d be dead as soon as you began to reach for it. 

You nodded as best you could. “Good,” he’d lost the threatening tone, but his voice was still gravely and raspy. “Now, where was I?” His eyes flicked down to your lips, and you sure they were swollen and shiny. “That’s right.”

Like nothing had happened, he returned to his ministrations, teeth grazing your bottom lip again. You hesitated when you set your hands back on his thighs, gaining more confidence when he didn’t stop you. In fact, he was actively encouraging your explorative touches, a pleased noise rumbling his chest as your fingers trailed up his thighs. 

Another swipe of his tongue and a particularly harsh bite had you gripping onto him, barely able to find purchase on the thick material of his pants. You desperately needed air, but he held his grip on your jaw, seemingly unaffected by the issue you were having. Did ghouls need to breathe? It seemed like they didn’t, because he had yet to tear his mouth away for air once as he first kissed you. 

As your hands reached his belt, it was then he finally tore away, a groan leaving him. Sucking in as much air as your lungs could handle, you ran your touch across the prominent bulge. You felt the hand on your jaw go lax, falling to his lap. “You gonna take care of that?” He was giving you another out, giving you an opportunity to stop you from doing something you could regret. 

Rationally, you knew you should stop here, and pretend like this didn’t just happen. You knew the version of you from the Vault would do that. But this new part of you, exposed to the Wasteland and the savagery of the surface world found that you wanted to continue. Besides, you were probably going to end up getting killed in the next few days; why not have some new experiences before your time was up.

You didn’t respond, you simply began to undo the buckle of his belt. You couldn’t get the thing off of him, so it just rested open on his thighs. “Oh, you’re filthy,” he chuckled, spreading his legs even further apart while leaning back against the couch. “Go on, sweetheart. Let’s see what that mouth’s good for.”

This also wasn’t your first time in a situation like this. You’d only ever done it once, but you apparently weren't too terrible at it, as he frequently requested for a second time, but you always turned him down. You kinda wish you hadn’t now, wishing you had more experience now, but a part of you knew that this was about to be incredibly different from anything you would’ve experienced in the Vault.

With hands that you prayed weren’t incredibly shaky, you pulled down the zipper of his pants. He kept his eyes locked onto you the entire time, darkening even more as the unzipping noise hit his ears. You couldn’t bring yourself to look away from him, no matter how hard you wanted to. Something about his expression had you locked in, and you shifted again. 

“Don’t let me stop ya,” he rested his arms along the backside of the couch, and you realized you’d just been sitting there. Steadying yourself, you slipped your hand into the confines of his pants, underneath the waistband of his briefs. You heard him let out a small hiss when your fingers brushed over his cock, and you desperately wanted to hear him make more noises like that.

It took a bit of maneuvering before he was free, head brushing against his navel. The skin was pocked like the rest of his body, which you were expecting. What you weren’t expecting was how long he was, much longer than your previous encounter.

Before you could let nerves disarm you, you moved closer to him. Bracing your hands back on his thighs, you kissed his tip, and you heard his hiss again. Sneaking your tongue out, you ran it up his length, pressing another kiss when you reached the top. “Don’t tease,” he growled, tangling his gloved fingers back into your hair. 

When you took him into your mouth, he let out a noise that sounded like a laugh and a sigh, the grip on your hair growing painful. It didn’t deter you, rather it drove you wild, and you took as much of him as you could. When he hit the back of your throat, you had to stifle the urge to gag. Taking the rest of him in one of your hands, you began to bob your head, hollowing your cheeks. 

You couldn’t see the way his eyes locked onto his cock leaving and entering your mouth, but you could hear the small grunts he made in tandem with the movement of your head. He kept his hips surprisingly still, but his fingers were somehow getting even tighter, as if all of his restraint was being poured into his grip, and it was on the verge of snapping. “You can take more.” It wasn’t a question, and you felt his press down on the back of your head when you had him fully in you.

Startled, you tried to make a noise, but the vibrations just went straight to his cock. He groaned, louder this time, and he didn't let up. “Relax,” he bit out, and you tried. You really did. Taking as deep a breath you could, you forced your muscles to relax, your hands going back to his thighs. Tears sprung to your eyes as you really tried not to gag, but a garbled sound still left you as he pushed himself further down your throat. 

“Fuck,” he drawled out, “just like that.” It felt like five years had passed before your nose was finally pressed into his skin, his cock fully sheathed down your throat. Tears dripped onto his skin, but he didn’t seem to feel them. Your scalp stung as he lifted your head up, and you took in a shuddering breath, your lungs screaming for air.

You didn’t have a long reprieve before he was shoving you back down again, and even though the intrusion wasn’t new it still caused you to make an awful noise. It took him pulling you off again for you to realize what he was doing; he was fucking your mouth, using it for his own pleasure like you were just a toy. The realization had you moaning, the discomforts becoming an afterthought as he chased his pleasure, your own growing. 

Your Vault-Tec suit was becoming unbearable arousal tightening in your core, and you snuck a hand down between your legs, trying to touch yourself through the thick material. It didn’t help, but you still tried anyway, desperate for any sort of relief. The Ghoul laughed, not letting up the way he moved your head. “Oh, sugar, is suckin’ my cock gettin’ you bothered?”

Your head spun, the new nickname and the crude words making you dizzy, and you let out what you hoped was a confirmatory sound. He only huffed in response, and you could tell that he was starting to get close to his release. His hips had started to buck, albeit slightly, and his groans had turned to unintelligible moans. 

He cursed again, and you were barely able to glimpse his head roll back, hat hitting the ground. He didn’t care, continuing to fuck your face, and you desperately ground against your hand. “So good, fuck,” he panted, and you let your eyes flutter shut.

They shot open when you heard him moan your name, but you had little time to appreciate the way he said it. He pressed down hard on the back of your head, holding you there, your nose pressed flat against his body. A plethora of curses fell from his lips as he came, his cum spurting deep down your throat. 

He let go, hands falling to his sides, and you removed yourself, coughing and gasping for air. Your cheeks were wet with tears, your jaw aching, but it was the best pain you’d ever felt. He stared at you with lustful eyes, a ghost of a smirk on his lips. 

Holy shit. You were tired, but you wanted more. But you weren’t expecting him to do anything else tonight. This wasn’t a partnership; he’d gotten his release. You’d need to deal with it on your own. 

So caught up in what you were expecting, you gasped when you felt his lips graze the corner of your mouth. His hand cradled your cheek, leather growing damp, and you felt his lips brush the tears that had fallen on the other cheek. You realized he was licking your tears away, and when he registered that you noticed he chuckled, muttering something about not wanting to waste water. You let out an airy chuckle in return, still not fully wrapping your head about what had and what is transpiring. 

“Guess one good thing came from that mouth,” he teased, referencing his earlier threat. He tugged you up, and you stood with knees shaking like a fawn. You’re certain you looked like a mess but he either didn’t care or really enjoyed it. 

You really had no idea what was going to happen next. You observed him with wide eyes, and you couldn’t help the bewildered look when you saw him stroking himself, still rock hard like he hadn’t just come. He chuckled when he saw what had caused you to react. “One good thing ‘bout bein’ a ghoul,” he rasped. “Stamina.”

His own raked down your body, honing in on the way your thighs pressed together, and they flicked back up to your own. “Take it off.”

You didn’t have to be told twice, the zipper on your suit quickly becoming undone. Even though the air was hot, it still felt nice against your hot skin. He didn’t blink as you undressed, eyes clocking in every new inch of exposed skin. Tugging it down your shoulders and off your arms, you let it fall to the ground, the material pooling at your ankles. 

Left in only your bra and underwear, you kicked the Vault-Tec suit off your feet, and you stood there, unsure. “All of it,” he continued, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

As you reached for the clasp of your bra, you watched him lean forward slightly, eyes watching you like you were the most delicious meal he was about to devour. Tossing the garment beside you, you reached for the waistband of your underwear. He raised a hand, making your halt, your fingers barely looped under the band.

With two fingers, he gestured you forward, grinning when you complied easily. His hands batted away your own, and you felt he begin to peel it away himself. He was almost eye level with your navel, and you felt his breath caress your stomach. It was like he was unwrapping a present, the way he ripped it down your legs, and it fell around your ankles like the suit. 

You were hardly able to kick it away before he pulled you onto his lap, your hands bracing against his still clothed chest. The couch made a very audible noise, on the virgo of collapsing, but neither of you seemed to hear it. One of your legs straddled his thigh, your bare center pressed against his pants, no doubt soaking the material.

 “You’re wearing too much,” you found yourself commenting, and you felt him chuckle. He took his hands off your waist, holding them in front of you so you could clearly see him take off his gloves, tossing them by his gun. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, realizing that that was all you were getting from him. 

You weren’t complaining, though, when his bare hands touched you for the first time. Along with the marred skin, his fingers were calloused, years and years of harsh life, fighting, and shooting making them so, but they were the best things you’d ever felt touch your soft skin.

He seemed to be having similar thoughts, humming appreciated as he felt your body, fingers dancing up your sides. Goosebumps erupted across your skin, and you sighed as he continued his exploration upwards. Worn hands cupped your breasts, fingers toying with your perked nipples, and you unconsciously pressed your chest forward. “Look at ya,” it felt like he was mostly talking to himself, “you ain’t gotta mark on your body.” You felt his mouth graze your breasts, lips ticking you as he spoke. 

You jumped when his teeth made contact with the delicate skin of the top of your breasts, and he chuckled. Moving lower, he took one of your nipples between his lips, his hand making sure the other one was receiving the same attention. His tongue flicked, sucked, and the occasional nip had you crying out, jolts of pleasure shooting through your body. One of your hands settled on the back of his head, the other sneaking back between your legs.

With that surprising speed, he caught your wrist, not even tearing his mouth away from you. You let out a noise of complaint, and you could feel him grin. His hands left your breasts, settling back on your waist, and you felt him begin to rock you back and forth on his thigh. With every rock, your clit ground against the tensed muscle, and you let out small moans, small waves of pleasure crashed through your body.

When he felt you begin to move on your own, he let go, returning his touch to your breasts, playing and massaging them as you got off on his thigh. His mouth trailed up your body, leaving a trail of small kisses and ginger bites, your once smooth skin now slightly indented. Having been worked up for a while, you felt that you were growing close to release, his ministrations bringing you closer. 

He was at your neck now, and he bit particularly hard at the thick tendon there. He laughed when he felt your hips begin to rock harder, and you felt his tongue smooth over the bitten skin. “I-” you tried to speak, but an airy whine from your throat cut you off. Your thighs were trembling, and you could feel the damp patch that had formed on his pants, but you couldn’t be bothered to feel embarrassed right now. 

“You close, sugar?” Not trusting your voice, you nodded instead. “Fuck, yeah you are. C’mon, let me feel ya,” he groaned, mouthing at your neck. 

It only took a few more rolls of your hips before you came, his name tumbling from your lips as a loud cry, pleasure igniting all your nerves. Your stubbed nails dug into the back of his head, and he growled. Your whole body was trembling as you rode out your high, only ceasing the movement of your hips when it became too overstimulating.

A shocked laugh left you, and you slumped forward. That seemed to be the last straw for the couch, the furniture collapsing beneath the two of you. It nearly caused to tumble off his lap, but you felt his hands secure under your thighs. He stood, holding you like you weighed nothing, and your legs instinctively wrapped around his body. 

He eased you to the ground, the sand digging uncomfortably into your skin, causing your back to arch off the ground to avoid feeling it. You couldn’t help the gasp you let out when you watched him shrug off his jacket, tucking behind you wordlessly. These small glimpses of humanity you’d seen from the Ghoul, like when he saw the crib, or when he gave you a way lead you to believe that maybe he wasn’t as bad as you originally believed him to be.

Well, you still hated him, and you were still his captive, but you realized that he wasn’t a complete monster. It was moments like this, where those high walls he’d built to survive in the Wasteland began to crumble, and you could see glimpses of the man you assumed he once was.

He didn’t give you much time to reflect, though, because his lips were crashing against yours, and all thoughts disappeared. Your legs were still wrapped around his waist, and you could feel his cock pressed against your folds. He didn’t press in though, and you whined against his lips, moving your hips as best you could to try and get him to move. “Whatdya want, sweetheart?” He murmured, nestling his head in the crook of your neck. 

“You,” you gasped out.

“I’m right here,” he chuckled a bit, and he still didn’t move.

Groaning, you ground against him again, trying to get him to just push himself into you. He groaned, yet he still didn’t move, his resolve stronger than you anticipated. “Fuck me, please,” you choked out, and you could see him smirk in satisfaction. 

He didn’t respond, and you felt him press into you, sheathing into you with a single thrust. Similar noises of pleasure escaped both your mouths, and your fingers wove into the fabric of his shirt, desperately trying to find something to grip onto. He stretched you out so well, and you gasped when you felt his hips press against you. He was so deep inside of you, father than any other person you’d taken to bed, and it overwhelmed you in all the best ways.

“Sugar, you feel incredible.” You babbled something in response, and you hated how proud he looked. He didn’t give you time to adjust before he was setting a brutal pace, hips snapping against yours. The sound of skin on skin and your cries of his name filled the room, and you swore if you gripped any tighter on his shirt that it would rip.

Small puffs of air tickled your neck with every thrust, whispers of your name hidden in the gasps. Fingers dug into your waist, most likely going to leave marks in the morning, your once smooth skin littered with marks of him. You couldn't see what your body looked like right now, but you had a pretty damn good idea, and the picture you visualized in your mind had you clenching around him, causing him to falter, albeit it only for a second.

Despite the slight overstimulation you were feeling, you could feel another orgasm begin to form, slowly but surely. Letting go of his shirt, you grasped at his face, pulling back up for another breath-stealing kiss. You were so caught up in the way he continued to thrust into you and the way his mouth slotted against yours that you failed to notice the way one of his hands left your waist. 

You broke the kiss with a startled yet pleased nosed when you felt his fingers begin to work at your clit, rubbing fervent circles into the sensitive nerves in time with the thrusts of his hips. “Cum on my cock, sweetheart. C’mon,” he groaned out, and your head hit the ground, barely softened by the jacket and the sand. 

His name had turned into soft pants, unable to form a coherent thought as he relentlessly fucked you. The added stimulation brought you closer to the edge, and you tried to let him know you were getting close. “Go ‘head, lemme feel ya,” his accent had been cranked up to a hundred, and in any other situation you would’ve found that funny. 

With a final cry of his name, you came again, your vision going white as you temporarily spaced out, the pleasure too overwhelming. When you came to, he had pulled out of you, leaving you empty and shivering. You watched as he stroked himself a few more times before he came all over your stomach.

It was only the sound of breathing in the room now, both of you just staring at each other as you calmed. Relaxing on his coat, you watched as he stood, tucking himself back into his pants as he did. Closing your eyes, you focused on your breathing, jumping when you felt a cloth on your stomach, wiping away his release from your skin. 

He didn’t say anything, tossing the cloth to one of the corners of the room when he was done. He placed your clothing beside you, before sitting and resting against the collapsed remnants of the couch, head rolling back. 

Groaning, you broke free from the post-orgasmic haze you were in, sitting upright. Both pleasure and pain still lingered in your muscles, making your movements sluggish and uncoordinated. Slipping on your undergarments, the dampened fabric of your underwear was incredibly uncomfortable, but you gritted your teeth and ignored it. After putting on your bra, you debated putting on the Vault-Tec suit, but the idea of putting it back on made our overheated body cry. 

The Ghoul watched you as you redressed, thinly veiled desire and interest flicking in those eyes. You were now sitting upright on his jacket, and you got up onto your knees, freeing the garment and holding it in your arms. Scooting towards him, you held it out to him with shaking arms, almost like a peace offering. His eyes didn’t leave you as he took it, setting it beside him.

Before you could decide that it was a bad idea, you sat down next to him, shoulders brushing. If he was surprised, he did a good job of hiding. Exhaustion returned, and you felt your eyes begin to flutter close, head bobbing as you struggled to stay awake.

It was your turn to be surprised when you felt him pull your shoulder down, resting your head in his lap. You were even more surprised when he draped his jacket over your shoulders, the material thin enough to not overheat you. You glanced up at him with wide eyes, but he avoided your gaze, staring at the half-standing wall in front of him.

“Rest. We’re leavin’ at sunrise.” His voice was hoarse, back to that commanding tone from earlier. 

Getting as comfortable as you could, you let your eyes shut, sleep beckoning you. You had no idea what was going to happen tomorrow, but as you felt his fingers comb delicately through your hair, you knew that he was no longer going to be following his original plan for you.

[lxvvie]

We've talked about Simon marrying into a large, loving family but here's an alternative: What if your family wasn't as large and loving? What if your family was fractured in some way and Simon found common ground? What if it were just you and your immediate family?

You told Simon about your upbringing and he understood. He understood in more ways than one, sweetheart, and when he first met your family it dredged up memories he thought would only stay that: memories.

Trust was an expensive commodity these days and just like Simon was wary of your family, they were equally wary of him.

And there you were. Right in the middle.

Surprisingly, it was rather uneventful (though you winced at how much Simon was being questioned) in the grand scheme of things. Coming, going, and prolonged absences seemed to be a common theme in your family, and some were convinced Simon would be no different.

After some time, mistakes, and miscommunication, Simon slowly but surely managed to gain their trust and they gained his. And slowly but surely, you started to see something form between you, him, and your family.

The holidays weren't as tense. That feeling of loneliness and abandonment, stress manifested in your parent's unconscious scowl, was no longer there. Your siblings, relationships formed by pain and fire, found camaraderie in Simon and gravitated towards him. Their scars were similar but people only saw his.

And it was through them that Simon saw what he and his family were, what they could be, and what they should have been, and sometimes he wonders what his mum and brother would think of you guys. Sometimes he wonders if they had a hand in bringing you all together from the grave.

Your wedding wasn't a grand affair but it was cause for celebration nonetheless. A new family, formed by fire, united by scars, had been born. It was more than enough for you and your husband.

Common ground, Simon thinks. That's all everyone needed.

[bunji-enthusiast]

I love you too — Kenji Sato

Got inspired by this!

Probably my only contribution to this corner space lmao.

“I’ll see you later then, okay?” You said, nodding him off as you turned your attention back on the computer with your work.

A small chuckle escapes him, “Yeah, love you sweetheart.” He responds in a gentle tone, opening the door.

“Like you too.”

You could hear a pin drop within the sudden silence that aired, the creaking of the door stop as he whipped his head to look at you. The light spilling in from the outside of the door retreats as he closes it—stepping back inside.

Your eyes look up, locking with his own. Kenji looks at you with a notable hint of disbelief in his features, you let out a laugh, “Aha, what? I thought you were leaving—“

“What’d you say?” He interjects, brows raised slightly.

Despite the small gesture, you could tell he was a little nervous. Hands on his hips, just barely hearing the echo from the half-hearted foot tapping.

For a few moments, you blinked, then nodded your head as you repeated your earlier comment; “I said, ‘I like you too’.”

It was almost difficult to contain the burgeoning smile on your face, trying to maintain your composure was indefinitely more difficult however.

Kenji looks at you as if it were the stupidest thing he had ever heard in his entire life, his hands clasped together as he sighs.

“I gotta put my bag down, I don’t know if I heard this right,” He said, doing so as the backpack slides off his shoulder. Setting it on the ground, aimlessly he gestures toward you with his hand—“What’d you say?”

Immediately you retort, “What did you say?”

“I said I loved you.” Kenji responded, the silly commodity of the situation tugged at his lips, close to fully smiling.

Your eyes widened at his complete sincerity, “Okay, and my response to that was,” You paused, trying to contain your grin. “I like you too.”

For a moment, Kenji sighs—his eyes briefly closing. Almost a bit long, though he steps closer as if he was prepared to reason with you, “Let me try this one more time, okay?”

You let out a laugh, holding your face as you nodded your head.

Kenji’s brows furrows as he counts down, “Three. Two. One.”

He then gestures to himself, as he had a habit of expressing his words through his hands, “I love you.”

“Okay,” you responded, letting down your hand from your face, “I like you too.”

That sets him off, a small thud could be heard as he stamps his foot. Kenji immediately shouts your name in disbelief causing you to burst out in laughter, followed by a very firm: “No!”

His hands almost ball up in slight anger, but he calms himself down. Kenji dislikes this very moment, you are refusing his love, “Say it back right now.”

He asks as he crouches down on the ground as Kenji looks at you with pleading eyes, you respond with a grin—still very much in a fit of laughter, “What do you want me to say?”

“I love you!” Kenji winced physically, large hands shaking as they are holding your own, his tone raised a little higher to really drive home his point.

Your eyes widened as your brows knit together, “Kenji jeez, you don’t have to yell.” You smiled, more fondly this time, “I love you too.”

He deadpans, lifting up his hands as if he were waving the white flag of surrender. But he got it out of you, “You know what, I don’t care anymore.”

Once more you burst out in a fit of laughter as Kenji picks up the backpack that was left on the floor and walks out the door.

Though he said words that had sounded mean, it was a bit of a lie.

He was so very glad you said those three words.

[puckleberryfinnie]

What Is This Feeling? (pt. 2)

summary: you're the one thing he can't have, but he'll do anything to get you anyway, fem!reader x emperor geta

part one

notes: I wanted to thank each and every one of you for the support you showed on my first attempt at writing this man, it literally means the world to me! here's the second part to that as a little thank you <3 as always, my requests are open, I'd be so honored if any of you sent your ideas my way!

It wasn't that you were truly bored in Rome- there were an infinite amount of things to do. You, however, couldn't entirely enjoy them with the amount of security that seemed to follow your every step. You could go out to the market, sure, but four guards were sure to come with, acting as your shadow with every move you made.

So, much of your time was spent roaming the halls of their residency, a place so giant you never got bored of it as the days went on. There you were considered safe, with no need to be watched every moment.

Much of this time was spent reflecting on all that had happened during your short time so far in Rome. More specifically, someone that had caused things to happen.

Geta was an interesting man, to be sure. It seemed as though he'd made it his duty to personally make you as comfortable as possible while in his empire. This being a duty that usually fell to the hired staff, he wasn't the best at it. Sure, he was perfectly fine at getting you the finest commodities they had to offer- he even made sure your room had been moved to a much more lavish one, though this might've been just because it was closer to his own. But any of the tours he'd offered you resulted in endless amounts of courting attempts on his part.

"These are our fountains- we really should take a swim together, yes?"

"And our apple trees- I'll grab you one right now, princess. You must try one for me."

It's not that you minded. He was quite attractive, you had to admit. There was, of course, the question of his intentions- it would ruin your reputation and that of your home if anything undignified were to happen to you, especially with the way news traveled in a place like this. So you kept that in mind as your friendship grew with him- always keeping a respected distance.

This greatly frustrated Geta. The only barrier he'd expected in the process of getting you was his own people guiding him against it for the sake of his empire, not your own denial.

Any other woman would've accepted the generous offer of his attention and affection. It bothered him deeply that you were different in that regard.

He was never one to back down from a challenge, however. So, when he watched as you walk past his room for what felt like the hundredth time, he followed you down that same hallway, soon catching up to you as he reached your side, placing a gentle hand on your back.

"Darling, it troubles me to see that you're roaming the halls quite so much. There are plenty of places for you to rest instead, places much better suited for your time," he said, leaning against one of the stone walls with a smile. "Might I suggest some leisure time in my quarters?"

"I'm afraid that would be... problematic, Emperor."

He frowned with your direct denial to his proposal. He knew it was true, though. It would be wrong of them to have a secret meeting of any sort in a private room, especially in the manner he was suggesting. In any case, someone of your ranking would want every exhausted detail of the courting process if he truly wanted you to be his.

Well, he did want you in such a way, really. He already knew he'd do anything for you, so what was it to him if you required a more dignified approach to being together? In fact, it might even be amusing if it were for someone like you.

"Well then, might I suggest a dinner? I'm sure my brother would be delighted to act as a chaperone, if that's what you're wishing for."

"That would do nicely, Geta. Thank you."

He smiled devilishly at your use of his name as he brought your hand to his lips with a slow kiss. "Then it's settled. Tonight."

The staff that had been tasked with taking care of you during your stay seemed extra excited about getting you ready for that night's event. Perhaps it was the silk cloth that had been bought for you by Geta himself. Or, if one was thinking more deeply, it was likely the fact that this was a clear sign of courting in their books. They now weren't serving just any other guest, they were serving his potential match. A future empress for their land.

The dining hall that they were eating in reflected the same notion. Everything was somehow even more lavish than it had been before, with new gold plates for every dish, and fancy silverware you'd yet to see during your stay.

And the dishes themselves were even more delicious than they had been- and they seemed more personalized for you.

"Those apples were the ones I mentioned during our tour, princess. And those tarts, I heard they're quite popular in your empire is that right? One of cooks made them upon my request." He'd immediately started rambling when you'd stepped inside the room, unlike his normal, more relaxed way of speaking with you. He paused, however, when he noticed your clothing, a smile spreading on his face. "I knew that fabric would look ravishing on you, darling. I have amazing taste," he said, leaning back in his chair, continuing to take you in as his eyes carefully analyzed every detail of your look.

"Yes, and I'd like to thank you for sending it to me. That was quite kind of you," you smiled, bowing your head slightly before you headed to an empty chair beside Geta. Sure, there were many other empty chairs surrounding the large table, but considering the man had invited you, it seemed only proper to be seated somewhat closer to him. At least that's what you told yourself.

"Don't mention it. Oh, and you already have met my brother, yes? I would like it if you two became better acquainted at some point, and what better time than now?" He gestured to his brother lazily, busy pouring a glass of wine for you with his other hand.

Caracalla, who was sitting opposite to you both, looks slightly confused about you both. His eyes were darting between you both as though he was trying to figure something out. He even looked to his monkey for some sort of guidance.

You, being as polite as possible, sent a small wave his way, bowing your head as usual.

After a while it seemed as though something had clicked for Caracalla, likely figuring that his brother's intentions for you might be more sincere, as bizarre as that would be for Geta. "Yes, I'm sure we'll be very well acquainted. It'll be a pleasure, in any case."

Geta laughed at his brother's remark, knowing he'd figured out what he intended for you and his empire. A long term relationship would be new for someone like him, but he wanted you for as long as he could have you.

"It seems as though the connection between our lands is going well, my lady," he said, taking a sip of his wine before looking over to his brother. "I believe that's just the thing that needs celebration. Don't you, brother?"

Caracalla was far to busy with his monkey, and only noticed he was being addressed after a moment of being stared at by both of his companions in the room. "Ah, yes. I love a party!"

He smiled at his brother's careless response, turning back to you. "Well then, might I suggest some gladiator games held in your empire's honor? It truly seems necessary."

He would show you off to the entire world if he could, but for now a whole empire would do.

definitely was planning on releasing this sooner, hope some of you can still enjoy this <333 again, I just wanted to say just how much it means to me that i got so much support on the first part of this- it truly amazes me and it's definitely something I think about all the time so thank you for doing that for me everyone!! as the abrupt ending suggests, I definitely plan on writing more, let me know if you want to be tagged in that!! (also anon pookie who encouraged me to start writing for him I love you to pieces too fkvljwbefj)

taglist (love you muah muah!):

@princesssunderworld

love ya!!

[iwritefandomimagines]

NOT FOR HIM — BENEDICT BRIDGERTON

masterlist

pairing: benedict bridgerton x reader [plus platonic anthony x reader where he’s being a matchmaker/shitstirrer]

description: you may not have been the season’s diamond, but your debut had caused quite the stir in many a man’s heart — your childhood best friend benedict bridgerton included. however, given that the viscount had decided that he would marry this season, benedict cannot see why you would choose him over his brother.

warnings: kinda tiny bit of angst (if you squint) into tooth-rotting fluff !!! tiny bit of suggestive benedict at the very end but it’s not much !

author’s note: this is basically like a reverse to the anthony one i wrote because i have a big ol’ soft spot for benedict too after my latest rewatch. enjoy !!! [edited, but not thoroughly — will be returning to do so asap]

“You look astonishing, Y/N,” Benedict’s eyes were wide when he saw you, “Absolutely astonishing.”

You blushed crimson under the intensity of his gaze, “You don’t look too bad yourself this evening, Lord Bridgerton.”

You never called him that — you’d known him far too long to consistently comply with formalities — but considering that it was one of your very first balls of your very first season, you had to be the picture of manners.

“It is so strange to hear you call me Lord Bridgerton,” Benedict screwed his face up, “Even if it does give me some small hope that you might consider me too as one of your many suitors.”

You shook your head gently with a laugh, “Oh, Benedict, as if you would wish to court me.”

Before he had a chance to retaliate with stern disagreement at your idea that it was such a preposterous notion, your eyes snapped up to see his brother entering the ballroom.

“Ah,” you grinned, noticing that he had spotted you both immediately and was on his way over to you, “It appears your brother has finally arrived!”

You didn’t look at Benedict for long enough to see the frown on his face at your apparent excitement.

For years, everyone around you had speculated about the closeness of your relationship with Benedict.

Granted, you were close with the whole family, but the tenderness with which Benedict treated you had always teetered on blatant romance even if neither of you had seen it before.

Of course he was aware of it now — he’d realised he was in love with you long ago as silly young teenagers, and now that you were finally out in society (emphasis on finally, as you had delayed doing so as much as possible) he had hoped to make that clear.

But of course your eyes were fixed on his brother, the Viscount, who had finally decided he wished to marry and therefore seemingly snatched all of your attention away from him.

“Good evening, my lord,” you curtsied, and Anthony laughed, “Such formality! How are you enjoying your first ball, Y/N? I trust my brother has not let you leave his side?”

You giggled, and as much as Benedict adored the sound of your laughter he couldn’t help the clenching of his jaw at his brother’s remark and your evident amusement.

“He has taken great care of me, undoubtedly,” you smiled, hands resting on Benedict’s upper arm for a moment as you leaned into him, “How do you feel about your first ball on the hunt for a wife?”

Anthony scoffed, “Consumed with dread, as expected,” he joked, “Brother, would you mind if I stole Y/N away for one dance? Only so that I might enjoy one last moment of vague freedom before I endure the onslaught of mamas I see staring me down?”

Benedict swallowed thickly, because yes he very much did mind you being stolen away to dance with a man who could provide for you so much better than he could.

He had always been second best to his brother, but never with you.

And now he felt rather ridiculous as he nodded meekly and watched you saunter away at the side of his own brother, who would never love you like he did nor treat you as more than a friend and a commodity necessary to the life of an important man.

“Of course.”

You smiled shyly over at Benedict as you followed Anthony away, and made a mental note to confront him about the sad look gracing his features as you did so.

“My brother is staring daggers into my skull already,” Anthony chuckled as you took your positions to dance, “I rather wonder why he was not dancing with you if he is so bothered by my doing so.”

You bit your lip, “We have danced together twice already, Anthony. In fact, I’ve danced only with him so far tonight. I feel… safe with Benedict. This is all so terrifying.”

As Anthony beamed down at you knowingly, you realised quite what he had initially said, “Whatever do you mean by him staring daggers? Why would he be doing that?”

“Oh, my dear Y/N, you must see that my poor fool of a brother is overcome with jealousy at our interaction,” he laughed as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, “Particularly now that I plan to marry. He quite clearly thinks that it is you I wish to do so with.”

You looked down at your feet for a moment, suddenly feeling shy.

When you remembered that you were talking to a man you knew like he was part of your own family, however, your head snapped back up — a smirk gracing your face.

“Oh, am I not to become Viscountess? I so had my hopes up!” you feigned a gasp, “In all seriousness, Anthony, why on earth would Benedict think we might marry and more so why on earth would he care so much?”

Anthony heaved out a deep sigh at that as you danced, almost irritated by your blatant ignorance to what was so clear.

“I don’t believe I should tell you the answer to that if you are somehow quite unaware of it yourself,” he shook his head, briefly meeting the eyes of his brother as he spun you, and smiled almost teasingly at him, “I hope that after stealing you from him for this dance he might finally discuss it with you himself.”

You rolled your eyes, “You jest, Anthony, because if you are trying to imply that he has affections towards me I’m sure you are sorely mistaken.”

Anthony stopped abruptly, quirking his eyebrow at you, “You truly are oblivious?”

You looked at him curiously, doe eyed and inquisitive as you waited for him to continue — or to resume dancing so you didn’t continue to feel all eyes on your frozen frames.

“Right, very well. I am going to walk away now, all smiles,” he informed you, plastering a smile on his face and nodding at the onlookers as he kissed the back of your hand to show no ill-will had halted your dance, “I would suggest that you get some fresh air, perhaps? My brother might… Come to check on you.”

You forced a smile as he silently moved away from you and towards the buffet table at the other side of the hall.

With a sharp breath you took his advice, despite your confusion, and lifted your skirt a little to busy your hands as you traipsed out of the ballroom and onto the balcony.

Like clockwork, Benedict Bridgerton found himself at your side in mere moments.

“Are you waiting here for my brother?”

The tension in the air was palpable, his voice low as he failed to hide the disappointment at his suspicions.

“Not for him, no.”

“Then for another?”

“I suppose so.”

“Apologies, then. I’ll leave you to it.”

You spun on your heel now as he turned to leave, touching his shoulder, “No, Benedict, I was waiting— for you.”

“For me?”

The incredulous smile on his face made your heart swell with hope — perhaps Anthony was right.

Maybe what you had spent all these years perceiving as friendship truly was reciprocated love all this time.

“Anthony claimed he believed you jealous, and that you thought we were attached,” you giggled, and he swore his heart melted at the sound of your gentle laughter, “And I was utterly unsure as to why you would believe that, let alone be jealous of it. But then he told me to get some fresh air and that you might find me here and I became hopeful.”

“Hopeful?”

“Yes. Hopeful that perhaps the feelings that have steadily grown on my part throughout the time I have known you might be returned. That perhaps you were not joking when you said you hoped I might consider you a suitor this season,” you blushed crimson as you served him your honest feelings on a silver platter.

He cocked his head to the side curiously, not quite believing you entirely though you were evidently being sincere, “Do you not wish to marry my brother?”

You scoffed, quickly covering your mouth with your hand at the outburst, but then sighed as you looked deeply into his eyes, “Of course not, Benedict.”

“But he is a Viscount — he could offer you so much more than I, and he seemed taken with you.”

“He was taken with making you jealous enough to confront me, my dear Benedict. He spent our dance essentially telling me to wise up and talk to you,” you bit your lip nervously, “Because he knows that I have long loved you, and believes that you feel the same.”

The curious smile on his face grew now into a beaming grin, his hands flying to take yours within them and bring them to his lips for a gentle kiss.

“I—, Y/N, I cannot— I cannot even begin to express the joy that those words have brought me,” the words tumbled from his lips like he couldn’t think fast enough to convey his feelings, “I have been in love with you for as long as I can remember. I settled for cherishing mere friendship because I feared I would not be… I would not be the man for you beyond that.”

You shook your head, “Benedict, surely you know how dear you are to me? I— at the very least in my heart, you are the man for me. I’ve been certain of it for so long and that is why I feared entering society so much. I didn’t want to marry for the sake of marriage and have to have the man I truly love as a mere friend. You are more than enough for me, Benedict, I feel safe with you — you are home to me.”

“And you are home to me, Y/N,” he was trying so very hard not to kiss you, his words soft and delicate as his breath fanned over your face due to your newfound close proximity, “If you would allow me to… I would like to court you. In fact, I would propose to you now if I was to allow my selfishness to take control. But I want you to be sure it is me you want, even if it hurts to see you dance and converse with others.”

“You’re all I could ever want, Benedict,” you spoke like it was utterly obvious, “And when you do propose, you can be certain of my acceptance. For now I am happy to share every dance with you and pretend we need to get to know each other to form an engagement. We have all of the time in the world.”

“We do.”

You were both breathing heavily, eyes glossy with the sheer emotion of the confessions you had just shared.

“I wish so badly that I could kiss you right now, but I fear I may not be able to control myself in future once I do,” his voice was barely above a whisper as you licked your lips, swallowing thickly.

“I wish— I wish you might kiss me too,” your reply was hardly even coherent, too love drunk to properly formulate your words, “More than anything.”

He was still holding onto your hands, and so he brought them up to ghost another kiss over them again, settling for this as he fought his urge to press his lips to yours instead.

“As you said, my love, we have all the time in the world,” there was a subtle undertone of what you might describe as lust in his tone now, intertwined with the love struck lilt he had been speaking with.

Your breath hitched in your throat as his lips ghosted up your forearm briefly before he brought them back down to your hands.

“And I cannot wait.”

———

horny benedict at the end to satiate my own need for that despite the intention for this to just be fluffy hahaha. hope you enjoyed !!!

feel free to keep requesting — and in the mean time here is my masterlist.

[kennedyhateskanye]

Across the ellieverse

An: you guys ate up my horny looser!ellie??!!??? I’ve been silently consuming Ellie Williams smut fan fiction for like a year now and it’s so silly and fun that I wrote something that made people horny. Swear I’ll write another one once I perfect the concept in my little Neanderthal mind.

Concept: there are so many distinct versions of Ellie on here that you guys write about, and I am so attracted to each and every one of them. This is kind of a conglomerate of some of my favorites.

STRICTLY 18+

—————————————

Hockeyplayer!ellie who calls you a puck bunny and smacks your ass when you ride her thick strap, she’s got that hockey accent and it comes out stronger than usual when she’s inside of you. She pumps hard cause sports have turned her into someone so cocky and vain. It makes it feel even better when she gets off the ice after a rough game, yanking jerseys and shoving players to protect her goal tender. she takes her mouth gaurd out and pumped full of the pride from her fresh win, she fucks you doggy style in the locker room with her jersey between her teeth exposing her flexing abdominal muscles. Insists on you wearing something cute, but not too slutty to her games because she doesn’t need her teammates getting a peak up your skirt while they’re waiting in the box by the stands.

Looser!ellie who whimpers when she pushes her fingers inside you for the first time, practically drooling while she heavy breathes. She’s got a shocked look on her face the whole time, taking in the smell and taste of pussy since shes never experienced it before. Her plaid boxers are soaked when you let her play with your cunt. she whispers things like “oh my fuck” under her breath as she whines from the sight of your sloppy pussy swallowing her fingers. The first time you two properly made out and she got to grope your tits, she was literally eyes blown wide mouth open. Her voice cracked as she said “mm is this okay” whimpering as she smooshed your tits together, SALAVATING at the sight. That night while you kissed sloppily she found herself rutting and against you in her jeans, she was so embarrassed but she just couldn’t help it.

Toxic!ellie who wants you to know she could have anyone she wants, when you argue she sends you the old photos she has in her my eyes only, of her fucking girls like they were an expendable commodity. She knew you’d be too jealous not to forgive her, afraid she’d go out and fuck some girl if you carried on pouting. While she pounds into you she presses down on your tummy, leans into your ear and sternly says “take it bitch”. You two were constantly on again off again, you’d make it a couple days without talking to her after your friends finally convinced you she was horrible for you, and to block her. then you’d get a text from a ‘text now’ number saying simply, “let me the fuck in, I’m at the side door.” She knows how addicted to her you are, and she makes sure to bring it up when she’s slamming you into the mattress, ass bent over the bed, and ripping your skirt up over your legs. “You know you can’t go without this dick, can you?” Of course, you give into her mind games “n-no! Fuck, mmmm I can’t go without it”

Pornstar!ellie who knows your the real star of the show, makes sure the livestream gets a good view of your pussy as she rubs your clit, smacks it, and asks the chat a series of questions. “Isn’t this pussy so pretty” “what should I do to it ?” “How long do you think she’d last if I tied and vibed her today, I know you guys fucking love that” “she won’t stop squirming, what should i do to make sure she sits still and shuts the fuck up, I’m trying to film”

[afeelgoodblog]

The Best News of Last Week

🌍🌡️ - Climate Prophecy: The Forecast Is 100% Chance of 'Cool'

1. No cases of cancer caused by HPV in Norwegian 25-year olds, the first cohort to be mass vaccinated for HPV

Last year there were zero cases of cervical cancer in the population that was vaccinated in 2009 against the HPV virus, which can cause the cancer in women. The HPV virus is extremely common, basically everyone comes into contact with one version or another of the virus in their lifetime.

The vaccine was given to girls only out of an abundance of caution, they were the most likely to contract cancer from the viruses, and because there was limited supply.

2. ‘Every square inch is covered in life’: the ageing oil rigs that became marine oases

Built decades ago, California’s offshore oil platforms are home to a huge diversity of marine life. According to a 2014 study, the rigs were some of the most “productive” ocean habitats in the world, a term that refers to biomass – or number of fish and other creatures and how much space they take up – per unit area.

3. Vaccinations may have prevented almost 20 million COVID-19 deaths worldwide

Vaccinations estimated to have averted 19.8 million COVID-19 deaths worldwide in their first year, according to the latest Imperial modelling study.

In the first year of the vaccination programme, 19.8 million out of a potential 31.4 million COVID-19 deaths were prevented worldwide according to estimates based on excess deaths from 185 countries and territories.

4. Global climate policy forecast predicts ‘well below 2°C’ Paris Agreement climate goals will be met

They report only a 10% probability we exceed 2°C by 2050. Temperatures are expected to peak between 1.7°C and 1.8°C, which is consistent with the “well below 2°C” objective of the Paris Agreement in Art. 2.1c.

5. Young driver fatality rates have fallen sharply in the US, helped by education, technology

Crash and fatality rates among drivers under 21 have fallen dramatically in the U.S. during the past 20 years.

Using data from 2002-2021, the report says that fatal crashes involving a young driver fell by 38%, while deaths of young drivers dropped even more, by about 45%.

6. A Virginia woman was feeling sad. Her doctor prescribed her a cat.

7. Remote workers report saving $5,000 to $10,000 a year

What value would American workers place on the privilege to work from home?

In a 2022 survey by FlexJobs, 45% of remote workers reported saving at least $5,000 a year. One in 5 reported saving $10,000 a year. The savings average out to about $6,000 a year. The poll reached 4,000 workers in July and August of last year.

Three years into the remote-work revolution, research increasingly suggests that telework is a commodity, a job descriptor worth thousands of dollars in potential savings and improved quality of life.

---

That's it for this week :)

This newsletter will always be free. If you liked this post you can support me with a small kofi donation here:

Buy me a coffee ❤️

Also don’t forget to reblog this post with your friends.

[hamburgerndsprite]

Sprite's Favourite Fics {Bangtan Fics} Part 9

Note: (I'll keep updating the lists as I read more fics. There are more min yoonji fics in part 12. Also, all the moodboards are edited by me therefore I request everyone not to repost them as theirs)

[Masterlist]

[OT7]

{SERIES}

➺ Bleeding Butterflies by jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue

Pairing: vampire! BTS x Reader Genre: fluff + angst + smut + vampire au Summary: a drop of your blood was worth that of a thousand people, but they would never allow another being to have a taste Chapters: 14/14 + Bonus Chapters

➺ Something Thicker Than Blood by secret-kpoplibrary

Pairing: OT7(eventually) x Reader Chapters: 11/11 Genre: Angst, Fluff Summary: For most people, family is the people you’re related to- cousins, sisters and brothers, aunts and uncles, mom and dad. But sometimes having genetic ties to a person isn’t enough, and sometimes it’s not necessary to consider someone family. Sometimes people create their own family. And sometimes families form in the most unlikely situations. So, when you find yourself without your family, and not really looking for a new one, the universe seems to have other plans for one, newly established lone wolf

➺ Trouvaille by spookyserenades [ONGOING]

Pairing(s); BTS OT7 x Reader Genre/Themes; Hybrid!AU, themes of the supernatural and the occult, paranormal themes, religious themes, violence, hurt/comfort, horror, romance Parts: 20 Posted + Drabbles Summary: In a world where hybrids are both the hottest commodity and largely exploited, a recent shortage of hybrids nationwide due to the wealthy adopting for sport hunting dominates the news headlines. More than ever, stray hybrids are whisked off the streets and taken into shelters to meet the demand. Mistreated, neglected, forgotten – in a notoriously disreputable hybrid shelter in a pocket of downtown Boston, seven “aggressive” hybrids await their inevitable fate of being sold for sport. After years of trying to distance herself from her mystical past and upbringing, Y/N finds herself quitting her emotionally-draining job and is forced to face past mistakes. While accompanying her friends looking to adopt a child hybrid into their newly-formed family, Y/N inadvertently finds herself face-to-face with seven hybrids doomed to die. In a spur of the moment epiphany, Y/N decides to change the course of fate for the better; though bringing seven aggressive hybrids into her life and the darkening spiritual energy of her old home is trickier to navigate than she originally thought.

➺ You Never Walk Alone by agustdakasuga

Pairing: Student!reader x Omega!Seokjin, Alpha!Yoongi, Beta!Hoseok, Alpha!Namjoon, Omega!Jimin, Beta!Taehyung, Alpha!Jungkook Genre: Werewolf!AU, Poly!AU?, Mate!AU, romance, fluff Parts: 25/25 Summary: You live a quiet life in your late grandfather’s cabin in the woods. You go to school just to graduate and get your diploma, not to make friends or stand out from the crowd. That was until one day, you enter your home to see a pack of wolves that need shelter.

[KIM NAMJOON]

{ONESHOT}

➺ How To Train Your Human by rkiveslibrary

Paring: Namjoon/Reader Word Count: 18K Genre: fantasy, dragon shifter Namjoon, fluff, slow burn, some angst, smut Summary: You went into the woods looking for your father, however you ventured too far west and ended up in the territory of the dragons. You thought you'd be incinerated on the spot as tradition states that humans can only enter dragon territory once a year, however it seems your defiance and stubbornness is rewarded when the leader of the dragons takes you under his wing.

[KIM SEOKJIN]

{ONESHOT}

➺ The Act of Persuasion by magicalsalamander

⊸Pairing: BTS Seokjin ⇆ Reader  ⊸Genre: Bear Hybrid | Actress | CEO | Arranged Marriage | Fluff | Angst | Single Parent ⊸Word: 20. 9K ⊸Summary: When two critters arrive at his doorstep he didn’t know that they would cause a bear who marched to the rhythm of the ants realizes there more to life walking in straight lines. However in order walk out of those lines he had to make a deal to save others and his two little ones, but at what cost? Then there’s me, the one who only sees in parallel. I walk in the footprints my parents have made in the path. What happens when my perspective changes because of a silly bear?

➺ Too Easy by beautifulfuckup99

Pairing: bf! Jin x gf! Reader Genre: Fluff, Established Relationship Synopsis: Where Jin teases her for getting easily flustered at anything he does

➺ Paths Crossed by borathae

Pairing: Bandit!Seokjin x Healer!Reader Genre: Fantasy, s2l!AU, Romance, Smut Wordcount: 22.4k Summary: ”When you find an unconscious man bearing the mark of the Ravens on his chest washed up on the riverbed, you have to choose between your duties as a healer and your instincts as a woman.”

[MIN YOONGI]

{ONESHOT}

➺ So Close by namfinessed

pairing: Yoongi x reader genre: major angst, fluff, second chance romance word count: 13.5k summary: words are not enough for people who are so close and so in love, or a fic in which yoongi loses you but will do everything in his power to win you back.

➺ How many things by myg-butterfly

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader Genre: Non-Idol AU, Anti-Social Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Angst/Fluff Summary: Yoongi invites you out to a party with him, and in trust, you say yes. But what happens when you lose him in the crowd, just to find him again with someone else by his side? In the midst of panic and longing, you wonder how many things he thinks about before he gets to you.

➺ In an Instant [M] by hobibliophile

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader, ft. Jin being a true bro Word Count: 6.5k Genre: BFF!Yoongi, Smut, College AU Summary: Dancing around each other for years, both you and Yoongi have resigned to stay friends, never knowing the others feelings for each other. However, an impulsive decision from Jin might finally push you two together. Yoongi really shouldn’t have trusted Jin with his phone.

➺ Puppy-loving by army-author

pairing: yoongi x reader genre: fluff, min holly's perspective word count: 1.6k summary: cuddling wouldn’t be complete without Min Holly, Yoongi’s dog, getting in your way.

➺ Breathe by pasteljeon

Pairing: Yoongi x wife! Reader Genre: Mafia!AU, some dark concepts (mafia/gang, hint of torture, guns), bit of implied sexual content, mostly fluff Length: 0.9k Summary: You’re the only one that can soothe his ire.

{SERIES}

➺ Vows aka 10 ways to win your husband's heart by hamsterclaw

Pairing: Yoongi x F! reader ft. Jin Genre: Arranged marriage, e2l, smut, angst Chapters: 2/2 + Drabbles Summary: You're five years into your arranged marriage with Min Yoongi, and he's never once retaliated for anything you've done to him. One day you realise you've lost your appetite for provoking him, and you set about trying to win his heart instead.

➺ So it goes by prodagustd

—pairing: rapper!yoongi x reader —chapters: 7/7 + drabbles —genre: friends with benefits (kind of? they're in love) to lovers, fluff, smut, angst. —summary: You and Yoongi have been hooking up, having dates and spending most of the week together for almost seven months. He was comfortable without a title, until the last two weeks, when you couldn't see him because of your busy schedule, Yoongi can't understand why he misses you so bad if your relationship is just sex to him. Or maybe he does, but he's too much of a coward to admit it.

➺ Crazy Over You by kittyscupcakeandbunny

Pairing: Black Mamba Hybrid! Yoongi x Reader Side Characters: Namjoon/doctor, Seokjin/doctor, Taehyung/Hybrid Tiger, Jungkook/Bunny Hybrid, Hoseok/assistant. Genre: Fantasy, hybrids au, smut. Parts: 8/8 SUMMARY》 Yoongi is a black mamba hybrid one of rarest species of hybrids, who’s about to be put down due to his lack of interest in living. But everything changes after the new medical assistance (y/n) takes a liking to him. Meeting after meeting he realise his feelings for her are not the only thing growing.

[MIN YOONJI]

{ONESHOT}

➺ Only Yours [M] by jeonsjiddies

- Pairing: Yoonji x reader - Genre: Smut, pwp - Word Count: 1.3k - Summary: Your girlfriend has a surprise waiting for you.

➺ Say Hello by yeontanismypresident

pairing: min yoonji x female reader genre: fluff, angst, e2l!au, ft. Yoongi being crack warnings: cursing, panic attacks, crying, feelings of self-doubt,  word count: 1.5k summary: "So, what's the plan? How am I winning back my girl?" 

➺ Summer Mornings and Strawberries by euphoricfilter

pairing: tattoo artist! yoonji x f. reader genre: fluff || non-idol au || cisswap || established relationship word count: 1.2k summary: sometimes it's hard to put your love for someone into words

➺ Drabble by jungshookz

➺ pairing; min yoonji x reader ➺ genre; *clown nose honk*, roommate!taehyung pre-y/n so get ready to have all of your buttons pushed, crack ➺ wordcount: 2k ➺ what to expect; “you owe me seven more kisses when you get back.” 

➺ Drabble by jungshookz

→ pairing: min yoonji x reader → genre: university!au, fLUFF because i love yoonji and i want her to feed me spaghetti  → wordcount: 1.4k → summary: “why won’t. you hold. my hand?”

➺ Pynk Drabble by idontblushsrry

pairing: Min Yoonji x reader genre: Smut,pwp/ pwbmp(por with bare minimum plot) hint of mafia/sugar mommy but not really summary: “Are you trying to turn me on right now or are you really just that oblivious?“ + "Did you just look me up and down and then bite your lip? ‘Cause if you did we’re having sex. Right now.”

➺ Pynk Drabble by idontblushsrry

pairing: Min Yoonji x reader genre: Smut,pwp/ pwbmp(por with bare minimum plot) hint of mafia/sugar mommy but not really summary: “oh, remember when you used to wear that all the time? Good times.” + “did that person just take a picture of us?”

[JUNG HOSEOK]

{ONESHOT}

➺ Midnight Confessions by snackhobi

pairing: hoseok x reader word count: 26.8k genre: fluff, smut, mutual pining, best friends to lovers, slow burn, technically a buzzfeed unsolved AU but you don’t need to be familiar with BFU at all so dw! summary: having hoseok as your best friend and co-host for your web series is a dream come true. the only hitch? you’re kind of in love with him, and it’s getting harder to ignore that fact, even if he doesn’t feel the same for you. 

[PARK JIMIN]

{ONESHOT}

➺ Beneath the water by jungshookz

→ pairing: park jimin x reader → genre: mermaid!au/fantasy!au, an extra large order of fluff, comedy!!, jungkook being a brat as per usual, a touch of angst, and of course a sprinkling of nsfw → wordcount: 20.5k words → synopsis: His legs were sparkling. You looked up from his face slowly and towards his legs, your head tilting in confusion when you were met with the sight of... well, it certainly wasn’t a pair of legs. What the fuck?

➺ Mermaid by jungshookz

→ pairing: park jimin x reader → genre: mostly fluff, comedy, a dash of smuT, a lot of flirty jungkook, jimin wanting to strangle taehyung, and of course it’s a mermen/fantasy au → note: based off beneath the water

➺ Timid by jincherie

Pairing: Jimin x reader Genre: fluff, soft, hybrid!au Words: 8.4k + drabbles Summary: Jimin was by far the cutest person you’d ever seen, but he always seemed to avoid you, dodging activities and events that included you. That changes when his home is compromised and he finds himself staying with you while it’s being repaired. 

➺ Crown Jewels by jincherie

Pairing: Jimin x Reader Genre: merman/maid!au Words: 4.5k+ Summary: You sneak into the castle to steal the King’s jewels and gold and find more than you bargained for.

➺ 5820 feet [M] by xbaepsae

Pairing: Jimin x flight attendant! reader genre: mile high club! au, smut, slight pwp, some humor, some fluff (if you squint) word count: 5.8k Summary: “Never in your life have you met such a cocky, yet still strangely attractive, person. His words really struck a chord in you, and now you really can’t stop imagining your legs wrapped around him…or his cock in your mouth.”

➺ The Airport Couple: P[ass]enger From Hell by dovechim & jimlingss

➜ Pairing: frequent traveller! Jimin x TSA Agent! Reader ➜ Words: 8k ➜ Genres: enemies to lovers, Crack ➜ Summary: As a TSA agent, you expect your job to be relatively easy, most passengers these days follow the rules to the T in order to avoid prolonging their custom checks. But not a certain Park Jimin, who seems to have a problem understanding what 100ml is, or the very simple fact that gadgets must be taken out of the bag, and bomb jokes are strictly off limits. Frequent traveller Park Jimin is your nemesis, but darn is he a cute one.

➺ The Airport Couple: Park Jimin's Cock[Pit] by dovechim & jimlingss

➜ Pairing: Pilot! Jimin x Pilot! Reader ➜ Words: 12k ➜ Genres: Tooth-aching Fluff, Extreme Crack, Smut (dear lord), Pilot!AU ➜ Summary: Talk about Angry Birds, and most people would immediately think of the mobile game app. But within your circle of friends, it stands for something else. It’s synonymous with Park Jimin, one of the most talented pilots from your batch who also just happens to have anger issues, or in other words, air rage. He is your best friend, but when you get teamed up with him as his co-pilot, you can only pray that things don’t go south… literally. 

➺ Perfect to me by sweetwritertanya

Pairing: Jimin x Reader Genre: fluff and angst! Not a lot of angst, just enough to make the fluff even sweeter, in my opinion. Word Count: 1830 Summary: After you see an interview with Jimin, your boyfriend, something he says breaks your heart. And you get incredibly mad at him.

➺ Till Death Due Us Apart by jimlingss

Pairing: husband! Jimin x wife! reader Words: 2110 Genre: Angst, Fluff, Sadness Summary: “Jimin. I love you. I know it was hard for both of us. Everything became a routine. We fought a lot too. You hurt me with your words. But I’m sorry I couldn’t bring myself to tell you. I’m sorry I hid it for so long. I hope you don’t blame yourself. I love you.”

{SERIES}

➺ Daddy Duties by bts-reveries

pairings: new dad! jimin x wife!reader genre: fluff + possible slight angst  parts: 29/29 summary: Life started pretty fast once Jimin married his fiancée. Who would’ve thought nine months after the wedding they would have a baby? With this new life as a married man and a father, Jimin felt overwhelmed and was unsure if he was able to do it all. Will this new beginning be a small bump he just has to get over?

[KIM TAEHYUNG]

{ONESHOT}

➺ Will U Be Mine by ratherbefangirling

Pairing: Yandere! Taehyung x Bodyguard Foreigner! Reader Genre: Yandere, Idol AU, Bodyguard AU , *slow burn* Synopsis: Tae needs a new bodyguard...The female OC is very intimidating and everyone is easily scared of her but at the same she's very pretty , she always does her job successfully(which is protecting tae) ,very professional, she's witty and very smart but she's extremely hard to get, she's not the girl you can fool and always stands uo for herself. While Tae is secretly attracted to her(sexually and romantically), there's a lot of sexual tension too.

➺ No Blueberries by yuzukult

pairing: kim taehyung x reader genre: angst, fluff, minor smut, romance, college!au, minor artist!taehyung word count: 12.3k prompt: no more! taehyung gets his heart broken to the point he doesn’t even love his favorite fruit, blueberries, anymore. then he meets you, the complete opposite of the girl of his dreams, and suddenly, blueberries taste sweet again.

{SERIES}

➺ Mini Me by bts-reveries

pairings: artist!taehyung x singlemom!reader genre: family, fluff, angst parts: 29/29 summary: Unlike his best friends, Taehyung was young, wild, and free. No relationship, no babies, no responsibilities. Well he had his puppy, but that was it. Taehyung watched his nieces and nephews grow up and it was no secret that he too wanted to have one of his own someday. So what will happen when he finally finds someone that matches his personality (and himself) well?

[JEON JUNGKOOK]

{ONESHOT}

➺ Caged Bird by borathae

Pairing: Bandit!Jungkook x Queen!Reader Genre: Fantasy, e2l!AU, Smut, Romance Wordcount: 20k Summary: “Jungkook was sent by the Ravens of the Black Forest to kill the Queen of the Night Queendom. He hadn’t expected to find love when he climbed the high walls of the Queen’s castle and pressed a sharp blade against her throat.” 

➺ Choked by borathae

Pairing: Bandit!Jungkook x Queen!Reader Genre: Fantasy, Smut, sugar mommy queen & cute spoiled prince vibes Wordcount: 7.4k [ Caged Bird Drabble ]

➺ Accidentally in Love by happy-meo

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader Genre: Fluff, clumsy jungkook Summary: We’ve all had our clumsy moments but what if those embarrassing moments, where we hoped no one was looking, actually led us to the right person?

➺ Red by borathae

Pairing: Jungkook x f.Reader Genre: married life!AU, Comfort Fluff, slight Smut in the beginning Wordcount: 1.7k Summary: "Jungkook knows that he can always use his safeword with you. Even during your most passionate of roleplays."

➺ The Boy with Galaxies in his eyes by oddinary4bts

☆pairing: Jeon Jungkook x female tattoo artist reader ☆rating: 18+ ☆genre: fwb to lovers, idol!au, angst (a lot), smut (a whole lot too), fluff ☆word count: 52.9k  ☆summary: you had never thought the night sky could be found in someone’s eyes. That is, until you met Jeon Jungkook and his gravity pulled you in. Will he crush you with the galaxies in his eyes, or will you learn to explore his worlds and make them yours?

➺ Love Wins All by cheeseceli

Pairing: Jungkook × Gn! reader Genre: fluff, comfort, late 40s au, drabble, (established relationship) wc: (<1k words). Prompt: "However big, however small, let me be part of it all. You may be right, you may be wrong, but say you'll bring me along." Warnings: Both y/n and Jungkook struggle financially, they are married.

{SERIES}

➺ Young One by bts-reveries

pairings: photographer, dad!jungkook x hostess, mom!reader genre: family, fluff, angst parts: 29/29 summary: Being the youngest, Jungkook had his fair share of parties, drinking, and wild nights. He didn’t think that this would have a different meaning to him so soon. Parties included two and three year olds, drinking was exclusively banana milk, and wild nights was when his son refused to sleep. He didn’t mind the change, having a son was a dream of his and wouldn’t change it for the world. But what happens when an old friend shows up, bringing Jungkook back to when life was easier and he had no responsibilities? Did Jungkook grow up too fast? 

➺ BunBun by smoljimjim

>Pairing: bunnyJK x OC named Siri, exes to lovers >Genre: angst, the cutest fluff, a bit of crack, happy ending >Chapters: 15/15 >Description: Due to an accident, Jungkook finds himself in the body of a rabbit during his final few months of highschool. Who should find him as a bunny to take home and look after him? His EX–girlfriend. What happens when Jungkook finds out a few heavy truths while being a bunny? Can he save what he once had– Her? Their once great love? Even his life?(NOT a hybrid story. JK is literally a bunny, sort of like his spirit animal came to life)

➺ Bloodlines Entwined by spideyjimin [ONGOING] 

—  pairing: werewolf!jungkook x female reader  —  genre: strangers to lovers, parents-to-be au, royalty au, werewolves au, soulmates au, angst, fluff, and smut  —  parts: 6 posted —  summary: having a baby alone was supposed to be easy. but an accidental twist of fate pulled you into a hidden world of werewolves, and ancient bloodlines. navigating your already complicated life becomes even harder as you uncover your past; one tied to a legacy you never knew existed. and in the middle of this chaos stands jungkook, the werewolf king… and the father of your child.

[queers-gambit]

Menace

prompt: ( request that i accidentally deleted ) in essence, "drabble about Tangerine going to the bathroom and texting Reader 'come here'."

pairing: Tangerine x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Bullet Train

word count: 4.4k+

warnings: cursing, OC!Tangerine, we talk mental health (social anxiety), established relationship, busy public work settings, the request and then some, alcohol consumption, smut, bathroom sex at a work event (Cherry, what the fuck?), handguns and mild depiction of violence 'cause it's Tangerine, i give him a 'real' name (Aaron), not edited.

"This is such bullshit, sugar, c'mon, fuck are we doin' here?" Tangerine snipped in your ear, his arm curled protectively around your waist as he glared at those in rich suits and expensive colognes around him. "We don't belong 'round this lot, they're just here t'wave their money. There's no real reason for us bein' here, sweet girl, c'mon, let's just shove off. Better than chokin' on whatever this lot's wearin' - I mean, Christ Alive, smells like a bloody Bloomingdales, don't it?"

You smiled prettily in case of watchful eyes, telling him sternly in a sweet tone, "Lovie, I told you, my boss said we were needed for at least cocktail hour. We can leave before dinner, okay?"

"This is gonna last fuckin' hours, princess, c'mon, we should just go," he grumbled. "Fuck these people and these bullshit fundraisers."

"We'll be okay, I promise," you soothed sweetly, the honest opposite of Tangerine - leaning in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. You were constantly touching one another and early in your relationship, you realized how much you loved kissing him and completely forewent lipsticks or glosses because of it. Another peck and you told him in a soft tone, "C'mon, just remember we said we'd pick up Changs on our way home and there's that bottle of nice Merlot A - I mean, Lemon gave us," you almost used your boyfriend's brother's real name, but caught yourself with plenty of time.

"Hmm," he smirked, his favorite takeout place being a happy distraction. "Cheat day sounds nice, yeah, but still don't make this go any faster, now does it?"

"No, but we're not gonna be here forever," you soothed, turning into his chest to pet the expensive material of this navy three-piece suit. "You look so handsome, my love. Really love seein' you in navy suits, and the white button up looks really clean with it." Tangerine smiled down at you, the bustle around you melting away as he could only hear, see, smell, feel, and focus on you. Then, you spoke coyly as you fixed his tie, "If you behave the rest of the night, I promise I'll make it up t'you. Yeah? Maybe wear that li'l white thing you love?" He perked up, but before he could respond, you ended, "Or maybe I already have it on - anyways, so, listen t'me, I have to go talk t'some people and do the job that pays me, so I suggest you just take a deep breath; get another drink, find Lemon, and then we'll go soon, okay?"

He looked around the usual investors his private employer had to shmooze for donated funding and frowned when he was acutely aware of not just the sheer number, but how many "important" people attended the evening's gala. The Black Market was funded by multiple someones; most of whom were in this very room and while under the radar, it still made Tangerine feel as if a huge target was painted on the building's wall. There was always a need for services outside the law and these richie-riches couldn't take the money with them to the grave, so, they donated money if it meant they were "well taken care of".

The Twins' handler insisted they attend the gala tonight; being well aware that they were more like show ponies for being on display for investors to see. Putting a face to names made myth into reality, and your boyfriend was a hot commodity due to his skill as a contract killer. He and his brother were legends around the various active agencies, investors happy to see their money going to good use; all wanting to know what they had bought for a price-tag of several billion.

The common conversation of the evening was how readily available The Organization was able to offer their services with no questions asked, no matter what. Tan hated these events, feeling nauseated, overstimulated, overwhelmed; overall, exploited by his employer as attendees gossiped about the Bolivia Job, the Kyoto Crash, the Libyan Disaster, and a few other memorable jobs Tan and Lemon were involved in. Their beady little eyes followed him around, mouths hidden behind crystal flutes of champagne, and bodies always shied away from him as if he were a wild beast.

Sure, they pay to sit and gather in the arena, but flee when the raging bull they've helped antagonize gets loose.

Then you came along and took on the brunt end of these social events. Tan was never quite sure how you got involved in this life, you always giving a new answer, but knew you had gone to university for multiple degrees - one being in something called "communications". Now, if you had asked Tan a few years ago, he'd've said that was a bullshit job, bullshit degree, a total waste of time. Now that his popularity had grown and he was exposed to more social obligations, he was was beyond grateful to have someone navigate this with him. Tangerine's bad attitude most of the time was just a deflection, being why you and Lemon could handle him; knowing the lad's anxiety often choked him past logic and made him a sarcastic, violent cunt.

When Tangerine forced himself back to reality after glaring at the other warm bodies mingling around, Tangerine's arm contracted tight enough that he could bring you in for a quick kiss. Quietly, he muttered in your ear, "I'll give you half an hour, darling, no more."

"No less," your eyes rolled but your lips were spread in a grin. He chuckled and softened his expression; whoever might've been watching feeling something akin to shock and awe (like one felt when they saw a lion in person for the first time), knowing Tangerine was a horribly stoic, violent, and short-tempered man. To see him now, amused and soft with such a beauty of a woman - well, it was jarring. He was still known to be an asshole, but it seemed you had a stronger leash on Tangerine than his handler ever did. But perhaps, no stronger than Lemon.

"Right," Tan sighed. "What was first on your list fa' me t'do?"

"You're gonna take a deep breath, get another drink, and then find Lemon," you repeated softly, "but I'm gonna say you owe me a kiss before that drink."

Tan huffed.

"That wasn't a deep breath, Tan, c'mon, we've been over this," you mock glared, feeling both his hands secure to your hips. He pet the expensive silk you wore with his thumbs, the pocket square resting over his heart a tailored square of the same material.

"Sweetheart - "

"In through your nose, out through your mouth, Tan," you cut him off. "Together, I'll do it with you, c'mon. In..."

Tangerine adjusted his stance in those shining Italian leather shoes you gifted him for Christmas that year. He took a steady breath in through his nose when you did, watching for your subtle nod, then exhaling slowly through his mouth - when you did. Again, together, in through the nose, your nod after about seven seconds, then exhaled through the mouth. After one more, you smiled at him in encouragement, both hands splayed on his lapels; his own moving so they coiled around you.

"All right," he grumbled, "yeah, it helps, pretty girl."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"Feel better?"

"Don't push it, plum," he mumbled, bringing you in closer so he could kiss the hinge of your jaw, just below your ear while stroking your spine with his fingertips. "Thank you," he whispered, mustache tickling your skin, "always know how t'get me out me head, don't'cha?"

"I try, but you don't always make it easy, you know?" You rolled your bottom lip between your teeth to smother your grin, leaning into his chest. "Kiss me, please, then go get a drink and find Lemon. Don't talk to the investors," you warned, adding, "please."

This made a mischievous smirk spread across his lips, "Awe, hey, c'mon, aren't they here t'see me? I can say hello. You won't even 'ave'ta introduce me, they'll know me."

"Okay, yes, they're here t'see the lot of yah, but they're not here to get yelled at, yeah? Or called cunts? Insulted in any manner?" You sang in a light tone; caressing his cheek to guide him to your lips for a long desired kiss. The hand on his cheek curled around to grip the back of his neck, gently tugging the neat strands of hair as you tried to convey your pride.

Social anxiety was a bitch and though he'd deny it vehemently, Tan was riddled with it. Seeing him endure this evening (despite the constant complaining) was a mighty feat, wanting your kiss to spark something in his gut that would cause his confidence to soar so it'd put a bit of "pep in his step" to get through the rest of the evening.

And boy, did it.

After parting ways, Tangerine was left to get his drink with a full-chub that made him shake both legs out in an attempt to hide his arousal. Yet as he watched you melt seamlessly into the crowd, he couldn't get the picture out of his mind that maybe you were wearing that white thing he liked. Tan leaned on the bar top, cock stirring to life with each passing second; watching you mingle and mix and shmooze investors and wanting nothing more than to interrupt and get you alone. With his drink, he located Lemon, trying to forget the way his cock was begging for attention while you worked your magic on these walking-talking-money-bags.

"All right, bruv?" Lemon asked, the two standing with a few other agents that were wrangled in for the event.

"Hmm?"

Lemon glared, then snickered to himself. "Oh, fuck me, mate, you're fucked, aren't you?"

"Come off it," Tan took another slug from the expensive whiskey glass. "'S only me second."

Lemon blinked in shock, "That's not possible. You hate these fancy things, you don't like bein' sober at'em."

"I've been distracted."

"No shit, 'cause your lady's here, gotta be on your best behavior, don't yah?" Lemon snickered, sighing as he shook his head and accepted the champagne being passed around by a waiter with a full tray. "But enough that you ain't been drinkin'? Yeah, right - oh, shit, wait," he beamed, "didn't Y/N get that administrative promotion? It's that, ain't it? Ho-ho!" He laughed, "Yeah? Don't tell me you've been her arm candy all night, mate?"

"We've been tucked away, actually," Tan admitted, missing the way Lemon blinked in shock 'cause he was searching for you in the deepening crowd. "She knows I don't like these things, right, so, we stood away from 'em all, ova there," he pointed off to where Lemon knew was roped off for VIPs. "We were just talkin', laughin'. She makes these shitty li'l jokes, you know? Kept us more entertained than the rest of these fucks," Tangerine chuckled, hand hiding his grin of amusement as he wiped around his mouth to play it off.

This made Lemon nod with impression, "Yeah?"

"Yeah, but," Tan sniffled, "duty calls, she's gotta work a bit, get some donations goin'. Apparently, I'm not allowed t'talk t'the fancy donors."

Lemon checked his watch, "Fair enough, you did punch that Sultan - "

"Oh, come the fuck off it, that was three years ago! He was fine."

"You broke his nose, mate. You want another?"

Tangerine skulled the last of his drink, shaking his head. "Nah, I'm good, mate. Might be time t'go soon."

"I'll leave when you two do, wouldn't wanna be stuck here alone," Lemon agreed, the two turning away to stand at a cocktail table together and away from the others. "This is why we don't work inna office, this lot - Jesus, fuck. Oh, shit, oi, mate, you seen who all's here tonight? Fuck's sake..."

"Yeah, mate, I've seen 'em all, but there's too many t'know who the fuck you mean specifically." He pulled his phone out as Lemon rumbled on in excited impression about the evening's guests to send you a quick text,

wrap it up, pretty girl. i got things i wanna do to you that ain't for others to see unless they pay.

He could see you from where he and Lemon stood; and when your phone chimed, you checked it almost instantly, smiling at the message. He waited for your rapid reply,

if my panties had a crotch, they'd be soaked. love you in blue 💙

That was enough for Tangerine, who nodded at his brother, "Gimme a minute, yeah? Gonna pop off t'the loo before we go. Have another," he pointed to the drink in Lemon's hand as he backed away, "but not that frilly shit, mate, have a real fuckin' drink. Oi!" He snapped his fingers at a passing waitress, "Sorry, sweetheart, yeah, my bruva, there," he pointed at Lemon, who waved awkwardly, "will take a double whiskey, on the rocks, yeah, and he likes them lemon twists. That somethin' you can grab for him, love?"

"Absolutely," she nodded, high-strung ponytail swishing.

Tangerine snickered lightly, shelling out a hefty tip that she accepted, "And bring him a Lemon Drop shot, too, please."

"Anything else, sir?"

"Ah, if you'd like, maybe your number for him, too?" Tan instigated, hearing Lemon groan and grumble in embarrassment. "My bruva, there, he's bloody golden, yeah? Can't do no better, man just has no flaws - less we count tha' he's a wee bit shy, innit? Pretty ladies intimidate him a bit, but he's the bravest man I fuckin' know. Just gotta warm 'im up a bit, don't'cha know?"

"He sounds like a real gentleman. But maybe I can give mine if you give your number to my friend?" The waitress countered, pointing towards the central bar that the servers operated out of. There was a decently pretty girl with dark hair, twiddling her fingers at them with a pearly grin. "She's sweet, kind, absolutely wild in bed - "

"Sounds like an even deal, sweets, but you see - I've got a woman, yeah? And my lady? Well, she's kinda one of your bosses tonight, so, uh, might not be a good idea now, would it? She gets all territorial, protective, likes what's hers t'be just hers - ain't real big on sharin'." The waitress flushed in embarrassment. "But my bruva, here," Tan pointed back at Lemon while unlocking his phone, "he's a fuckin' don, yeah? Ain't nobody gonna treat cha' t'a better night. Oi, hey, I'll be back, bruv," he called to Lem with a smirk, then reminded the waitress, "double whiskey, lemon twist, on the rocks. And that Lemon Drop, please."

"Of course, sir, right on it," she agreed, Tangerine finally backing away fully. He typed you a new message,

meet me in the bathroom right now

Inside, it was decently spacious; unisex, six stalls, made of pristine marble, veiled fluorescent lighting, and there was a lock on the door - which Tan cared most about.

He planted himself behind the two other men at the walled-off urinals, hands clasping together in front of him. "Right, then, you two," he gestured between them, "got 'bout 30 seconds to finish yourselves and get the fuck outta here." He pulled the usual gun from his waistband, threatening, "Or I'll give you fuckin' fucks a show 'bout all them stories you love whisperin' 'bout. Yeah? How's that? Hey? Thirty! Twenty-nine! Twenty-eight!"

They were barely zipped up and gone by the time Tangerine got to second 21; you entering right as the two were scurrying for the swinging-open door. You yelped a little, jumping out of their way, offering Tangerine a strange look and musing, "Uh, what was that? You fightin' in the privy, again?"

He put his handgun away as he stalked towards you, "Just makin' sure we wouldn't be interrupted."

"Tan, hell no, there's so many people!"

He yanked you from the doorway, making sure it was shut before locking it loudly. "Then we gotta be quick, don't we? C'mon, doll, real fast, bosses won't even question you bein' gone."

"I still have work - "

"Nah, nah," he pawed your gown's skirts upward, "you been teasin' me all fuckin' night, lookin' too fuckin' good - I can't wait, baby. Just look so Goddamn pretty, feels like I'm losin' my mind. Lemme see yah," he got the silk bunched around your waist, gasping loudly when he saw your panties. "You really did wear 'em... Like the good girl you are," he purred, one hand dropping the silk to run his hand over the strappy and lacy material you wore. "Swear I'll take my time with yah at home, the way I want - but can't do that here, just needa be inside yah, sugar, c'mere."

"Baby," you gasped when his fingertips ghosted around your cunt that was bare due to the crotchless cutout. "I only need a-a-a," you trailed off, panting when one finger suddenly plunged into your cunt, "ohhh, shiiiit. Yes, baby, oh, God!"

"Keep talkin'," He smirked, backing you up towards the marble counter. "C'mon, tell me off. Tell me what's more important right now, huh? More important than this? Is it work? Huh? Work got you distracted? Wanna get back t'it instead of bein' here with me?" The heels of your palms slammed into the pristine counter, whimpering when he pumped erratically. "Aht, here you go," he smirked, pausing to pull his hand free of your warmth; seizing your waist and helping hoist you back onto the sink's ledge. Your lips meshed sloppily with his, Tan letting you dominate the kiss because you were mewling - so desperate for him, you were nearly suckling on him; hands trembling as they held his cheeks with your manicured fingertips. When your legs instantly spread to accommodate Tangerine's hulking form, grinding your hips into him, he seethed, "Good girl," before sinking his digit back into your wet heat that halted your ministrations out of pure relieving pleasure.

"You're a menace," you panted against his mouth when you remembered reality, Tangerine's belt rattling open and his zipper teeth shrieking when you shucked them open. "Gimme," you whispered, reaching for him; dropping his pants the rest of the way to take his pulsing cock in hand. "This what you wanted? Right? Why you texted me? Interrupted me?"

"Exactly," he licked his lips before smashing them to yours in a suffocating kiss, always the one to help you push boundaries and do things you never thought you'd ever do if not for him. "Why're you so wet? Huh? Why's that? Had this on your mind, too, didn't'cha, dirty girl? Why else would you wear my favorite?"

"'T reward you for tonight," you panted, giving his cock a few pumps. "'S my scene, not yours, just so fucking proud of yah - for how you did, gettin' through it," you guided him to your weeping entrance after pushing his hand from you, both gasping when his cockhead notched on the lip of your cunt. "Yes, yes, yes, yes," you chanted, praising him as he sunk his hips into your own; effectively blurring your mind.

He grunted, needing a single moment to press his balls between you two as he waited for you to accommodate to his size. Forehead to forehead, your eyes remained shut; breathing the same air, feeling your insides fluttering at the size of him. His mouth was at your ear, demanding, "Tell me again, pretty girl."

You knew what he wanted, letting your legs spread a little wider and held onto his shoulders since this position didn't allow for much else. You whimpered, "You did so good tonight, baby. Oh, fuck, I'm so proud of you - you did so fuckin' good." He groaned and retracted his hips, beginning a brutal pace and messy rhythm to pump himself in deep strokes. You had to hold onto his upper arms now to allow him space to move. "Always so good for me, but tonight? Fuck - you're so good, Aaron. So fucking good - and tonight you were fucking amazing. I'm so proud, so fucking proud of you," you whimpered, his hands holding your hips so the counter could pose as leverage to allow him the angle to pound up into you while shifting you down on him.

"Almost there, baby," he begged, eyes all over. He loved the sight of your 'panties' still on; the criss-crossing of the straps and pattern of the lace still in place while his cock made a mess of you. Your gown glittered in this light, your skin tacky with a thin layer of sweat from your arousal that made him dip low and lick a bold stripe between your breasts. "Lemme see - lemme get a taste, doll, want you in my mouth," he muttered against your cleavage, still holding you on his cock as you pulled a tit free. You gave a shrill yelp when Tangerine surged forward suddenly and bit harshly on your budding, sensitive nipple; but it was in-sync with him changing the pace of his thrusting to something borderline painful.

It wasn't a secret he was well-endowed, there wasn't much to the imagination with the way his suits are tailored.

But having ten(plus) inches; fully swollen, engorged, jackhammering into you at this angle? It wasn't the most pleasurable at first, but with Tan licking, nipping, and sucking at both nipples now, you endured until moaning authentically. You were all but hanging off the counter by now, Tan the only reason you weren't on the floor; using upper body strength to hold onto him while slithering a hand toy your stomach to toy with your enlarged clit.

It took very little time of harsh pressure from your fingers to come undone, pleasure mounting to a crescendo before shattering your grip to reality. With a gasp, your hips humped into Tan's by your own blinding vocation; arms tight around his shoulders to remain upright as you milked yourself.

The contraction of your cunt was all Tangerine needed, and four slaps of his balls later had him doubling over and pinning you in a small slam, chest-to-chest, to the marble.

"Oh, my fuckin' God," you panted in appreciation.

"Shit," he realized, "shit, fuck, did I hurt you? Fuck - baby - "

"I'm not hurt," you panted, keeping a tight hold to refuse him from standing up, "just happy."

He deflated with a small chuckle. In your neck, he mumbled, "I can't feel my legs."

"Wanna sit?"

"Nah, not here," he mused, licking the sweaty skin of your pulse point. "Just had t'wear the li'l white ones, didn't'cha?"

"You get all worked up when I do."

"With good reason, should see yourself the way that I do - Goddamn, doll. My girl's divine, too good for these fuckers out here."

You were about to retort, but there was a loud, rapid banging at the locked door. "Hey! Hey! Whoever's in there! There's people that need in, you fucking arseholes! Get your dick wet at your own place, you broke bitches!"

You gasped and slapped a hand over your mouth as Tangerine finally stood off you, keeping you balanced on the counter as you sat up. "Oh, my fucking God, Tan! I-I-I-I'm gonna get fired! Oh, holy shit! This isn't happening!"

"No - "

"Aaron, we were literally just caught - "

"Hey, hey, just breathe," he paused, sighing as he caressed your cheek. "Let me handle this for us, okay? The way you protect me, let me protect you. Yeah?"

You nodded mutely, looking ready to burst into tears. After Tan pulled out and helped you clean up (ignoring the warm cum that dripped down your inner thighs), he simply wrapped you in his navy suit jacket, rolled up his crisp white sleeves, and pulled out his handgun. "Oh, baby, don't - "

"Trust me," he purred, arm secure around your waist. "Oh... Shit, hang on," he set the gun down to use his hands and fix your hair, your heart soaring by the sweet, domestic gesture. "I got'cha, pretty girl, one sec - there we go, yeah," he smirked, looking proud of himself. "Yeah, all right, there we go," he cupped your cheeks, "all perfect."

"Thank you," you whispered.

"Now, we're gonna walk out with confidence. Just don't stop, don't look at anyone. Actually, look a li'l smug," he instructed. "And we're just gonna grab Lemon and get outta here, yeah?"

You pouted lightly, "After I get the O-K from my boss."

"Nah, we don't ask permission, just forgiveness."

"Terrible philosophy."

"I prefer effective. Ready?" He asked, picking his gun up again. You nodded, latching onto him as his arm secured around you again, then approached the door. He unlocked it loudly and yanked it open, glare instantly taking over his expression as you were met with a gaggle of angry, grumbling patrons. "We got a fuckin' problem?" Tangerine sneered, his gun winking in the dim lighting; those who were waiting instantly backing off.

You did as he advised: didn't look at anyone, didn't stop, looked a little smug. He lead you through the throng of people, hearing a woman sneer under her breath - gasping when Tan turned his gun on her. "Tangerine!" You snapped, the people around you all freezing.

"Got somethin' t'say?" He taunted the woman, who shook her head. "No? You sure? Now?" He asked, shifting the weapon over to her date's forehead. She shook her head again. This made Tan smirk, "Jealousy ain't pretty on anyone, love. Keep your fuckin' mouth shut."

"Let's go, now," you insisted, tugging on his unbuttoned waistcoat to walk away together. "Can't shoot everyone who offers insult."

"No, but word will spread," he smirked. "Ain't nobody gonna say a fuckin' word to yah now. And if they do," he shrugged, "you'll tell me. All right, now, uh," he paused you both, nodding ahead, "that's a bit of my doin'. Question is, do we interrupt?"

You peered around a person or two until Lemon and a pretty waitress was in sight. She was giggling and grinning, the two deep in conversation; just enraptured and toying with each other's hands.

"We should probably let him know we're leaving. Maybe text him?"

"So, we are leaving, huh?" Tan smirked. "No more precious work to go run off to?"

Your lips moved beside his ear, licking the shell before speaking so your cool breath fanned over the wet skin, "I can't work with your cum leakin'."

His hand groped your arse cheek tightly, "If you do, I promise t'make yah my li'l Twinkie, huh? Fuck you all night, like you deserve."

"Oh, now you wanna stay? You fuckin' serious?"

"Yeah, but, now it's a game."

"You're a fucking menace!"

requesting rules and masterlist

Bullet Train masterlist

[queenshelby]

Auctioned (P. 1)

Pairing: Dark!Thomas Shelby x Virgin!Reader/OC

Warning: Darkish Themes, Prostitution, Smut, Eventual Loss of Virginity, Dubious Consent, Corruption, Destructive Behavior, Massive Age Gap

Notes: Damn, I had this in my drafts for a while but could not publish it as I was a little afraid about how it would be perceived. Also this is the first time I used an OC, so be gentle with me.

The rain fell relentlessly, a steady rhythm that matched the pounding of Y/N's heart as she walked down the dimly lit streets of Small Heath.

It was a neighbourhood perpetually caught in the grip of shadows, where whispers of danger cascaded through the air like an ominous secret.

Clutching her coat tighter around her trembling form, Y/N navigated the labyrinthine alleyways towards her destination. The wind howled, carrying with it a sense of desperation that seemed to echo her own.

After mere minutes of walking down the street, the brothel she had worked at as a waitress for the past two years stood ominously before her, its ornate facade a stark contrast to the gritty reality of its surroundings.

It was a daunting place she had visited many times before. Both of her sisters worked there, and it was Y/N's eldest sister who had orchestrated tonight’s ordeal.

When Y/N was only sixteen years old, her eldest sister told her not to give away her innocence lightly as, according to her, a woman’s virginity was a commodity these days. Men were willing to pay much money for it, and six months after Y/N turned eighteen, she decided to partake in one of the brothel’s first-ever auctions.

“There are many men here tonight and you are the only virgin” Y/N's sister told her, causing Y/N to cringe but remain silent. “In three months’ time Em, we will be debt-free” her sister then reassured her as rumors of illicit dealings and forbidden desires swirled around the brothel’s walls, warning Y/N and the two other girls partaking in tonight’s events to tread with caution.

Y/N's determination propelled her forward though nonetheless, into the grand hall of the establishment and, albeit with trepidation lingering in every step, she pushed through her anxiety. The weight of her decision bore down on her shoulders now, the knowledge that she had offered her innocence for sale causing a knot of guilt to form in the pit of her stomach.

Pushing open the heavy wooden doors, the creaking sound reverberated through the room, capturing the attention of its mysterious clientele, including men that were twice and three times Y/N's age.

Seeing them, gave Y/N second thoughts. She disappeared again into the back of the room, telling her sister that she was unsure as to whether she could go through with this and, once again, her sister reminded her of what was to come if she did not.

“Trust me Em, it is better to fuck one guy for a few months than a ton of them for years. You will have money once your time is up. It will be worth it” her sister told Y/N, who reluctantly nodded.

The deal was to give up her virginity and three months of her life to the highest bidder and in the brothel’s owner’s opinion, such offering was going to attract a bid of at least one-thousand pounds.

One thousand pounds was more than Y/N could make in five years, thus she agreed, setting herself up for a good life of her own.

***

Glancing through one of the open doors again, Y/N saw that the auction room was illuminated by dim candlelight, casting elongated shadows across the velvety red curtains that framed the stage.

Many men were still arriving, taking their seats and talking with each other. Y/N could count at least fifteen thus far and were astonished by the fact that all these wealthy men were prepared to pay for her inexperience.

Then, a hushed silence fell over the crowd as another man walked in and it was your sister who peaked through the crack in the door with you now, trying to ascertain what was happened.

“Oh shit” she said as she looked at the man who just walked in. His sharp features were framed by a weave of dark hair, blue eyes piercing the dimly lit room with a predatory intensity. This was Thomas Shelby - a figure whispered about in hushed tones, notorious for his criminal empire, and feared even by those who claimed to know him.

“Who is he?” Y/N asked nonetheless, curious about this handsome but intimidating-looking stranger.

“His name is Thomas Shelby. You would have heard of him?” Y/N's sister said, causing Y/N's chin to drop as, just like everyone else, she had indeed heard of him. He was often referred to as the king of Birmingham, a man whose name had become entwined with notions of danger and darkness. He had blood on his hands and was a career

Criminal who was so powerful that even the police did not stand in his way.

“It is time, come on” the owner of the establishment then said and, with trembling legs, Y/N walked into the room, accompanied by her sister.

All heads turned as Y/N's presence filled the room, but she did not take notice of anyone but him, secretly hoping for this stranger to make a bid.

Y/N's breath hitched as, within seconds, her eyes locked with those of this dangerous man, his icy blue orbs penetrating through her like a shard of glass. She felt exposed, vulnerable, as if he could see every secret she held close to her chest, every fear she carried.

Thomas smirked at her, his lips curling with a dangerous mixture of arrogance and charm. He adjusted his tailored suit with the precision of a man who commanded respect, his piercing gaze locked upon the platform where the auctioneer eventually prepared to begin, with you by his side,

The auctioneer's voice boomed through the room, shattering the silence like a crack of thunder.

"Ladies and gentlemen, tonight we present to you a rare opportunity. Up for sale to the highest bidder is this young woman's innocence and her services for three months, at a location of your choosing” the man announced and, immediately, whispers raced through the air, mingling with the pounding of hearts.

Eyes flickered from Y/N to Thomas and back again, playing a silent game of anticipation and curiosity. Y/N's cheeks burned with a mix of nervousness and defiance. This was her choice, her chance to take control of her own destiny and yet she hoped that, at least, someone she could be attracted to would become her bidder.

As such, Thomas Shelby was clearly the most attractive and intriguing man in the room and, whilst Y/N had heard tales of Thomas Shelby, the man who straddled the line between the law and the underworld, she was not afraid.

Thomas Shelby’s notoriety preceded him like a shadowy myth and, again, his lips curled into a barely perceptible smirk, his features a carefully crafted mask of unreadable intent. The flicker of amusement in his eyes danced with a darkness that weakened Y/N's knees.

Was here to bid, she wondered? Or was he for the show and the sheer absurdity of it all?

"Let us not waste any time," the auctioneer then continued, his voice dripping with a blend of excitement and intrigue.

"Bidding for Miss Y/N begins at five hundred pounds" the actioneer then announced and the crowd stirred, pockets of murmurs rising like a symphony of anticipation. The forbidden allure of Y/N's offer had captivated them all, and now they were hungry for the chase.

Thomas Shelby remained a silent observer, however. His eyes locked onto Y/N's form with an intensity that made her feel exposed. A shiver of uncertainty crawled up her spine, but she refused to falter. She had made her decision, and she would see it through to the end.

Then, the first bid pierced the air, followed swiftly by another and another. The numbers climbed higher, the desperation of the bidders mirrored in their furious gestures and sharp intakes of breath. From her vantage point on the stage, Y/N watched the faces blur together, a sea of greedy desire stretching out before her like a treacherous ocean.

Among the throng of potential purchasers, only one stood out to her still and this was Thomas Shelby. His eyes were unwavering and fixed upon her. Bids soared into the thousands, the clambering voices echoing through the rafters. In this room of twisted desires and hidden intentions, Y/N's worth was being calculated, her innocence commodified.

A sense of nausea swirled within Y/N's gut, the weight of what she was about to lose hitting her like a sucker punch. She knew the money would bring temporary relief, but the cost of her first time being handed over so coldly – it was a sacrifice she could never fully comprehend.

Biting her bottom lip, Y/N steadied herself, her gaze finding solace in the not-so-innocent eyes of Thomas Shelby across the room. She had set this chain of events in motion, and she would have to live with the consequences, whatever they may be. At last, the bidding war reached its peak, the crowd growing restless, each participant desperate to claim the illustrious prize. The air crackled with anticipation, a storm waiting to unleash its fury.

The auctioneer, sensing the crescendo, roared, "Going once, going twice..." The tension in the room reached a fever pitch, every person holding their breath, their gaze transfixed on the stage. And then, in an instant, Thomas Shelby's voice, low and commanding, cut through the silence like a knife.

"Ten thousand pounds" he said and the room gasped, a collective intake of breath that snaked its way through the assembled throng.

Thomas's bid was a declaration, a statement that he alone was the one who would possess her at a price that was much higher than any other bid before.

Y/N's heart pounded in her chest, her pulse reverberating in her temples. She locked eyes with Thomas, her voice trembling as she promised herself that she would not crumble beneath his intimidating presence even though he wanted her to, by simply looking at her.

"Sold to Thomas Shelby for ten thousand pounds!" the auctioneer's proclamation hung in the air, sealing Y/N's fate like a binding contract.

A mixture of relief and trepidation surged through her veins, her steps faltering as she descended from the stage, her composure teetering on the edge. Thomas approached her with a measured stride, his every move calculated and deliberate. He extended a gloved hand towards her, a pale contrast against the darkness that seemed to radiate from him.

"Y/N, is it?" he asked, his voice a low timbre that held a hidden power, causing in Y/N to nod silently.

"It appears you now belong to me" he then asserted and Y/N paused for a moment, feeling herself teetering on the precipice between freedom and captivity.

“It seems so” Y/N responded as she chose to swallow her fear and accepted his hand, their fingers intertwining in a pact that neither of them fully comprehended.

“Very well then” Thomas responded before he pulled her closer and Y/N felt the weight of his reputation settle upon her shoulders. The echoes of his criminal empire whispered around her, the unknown dangers lurking beneath the surface of this enigmatic man.

With every guiding step, Thomas led her out of the brothel and into the night, the rain washing away the remnants of her former life. The world around her seemed to fade into insignificance, her focus solely on the ruthless man who had claimed her as his own.

***

Eventually, they emerged onto the dark streets of Small Heath, the rain obscuring their silhouettes as they walked side by side. Y/N's nerves danced with a mix of apprehension and curiosity, her mind frantically searching for answers to the questions that suddenly enveloped her.

"You've heard of me, eh. So you know what I do?" Thomas stated, his voice cutting through the raindrops like a razor and Y/N hesitated to answer for a moment, her words momentarily catching in her throat.

"Yes. I have heard that you are dangerous," she finally admitted, the honesty laced with a touch of fear. A hint of a smile danced across Thomas's lips, his eyes narrowing with a blend of amusement and something darker.

"Dangerous, eh?” he chuckled. “Well, I suppose that is not entirely wrong. Although, one might argue that danger can be seductive” Thomas then asserted and Y/N absorbed his words, feeling a shiver run down her spine. She couldn't deny the magnetic pull she felt towards this enigmatic criminal, as if some inexplicable force drew them together despite the odds stacked against them.

"Why me?" she whispered, her voice barely above a breathy plea. The question hung in the air, mingling with the quiet patter of raindrops on the pavement. Thomas stopped abruptly, his grip on her hand tightening ever so slightly. His gaze bore into her, stripping away any pretence that either of them wore.

"Because I saw something in you that intrigued me. Despite, what kind of criminal would not want someone as innocent as you to corrupt, eh?" Thomas joked as the rain continued its relentless assault, washing away the remnants of Y/N's innocence and revealing a strength that had long lain dormant within her.

This journey was not just about the loss of her virginity – it was an awakening, a test of her own resilience. The intoxicating mix of danger, attraction, and the unknown propelled Y/N forward, her heart pounding in her chest like a wild creature. She had embarked on a journey into darkness, and she was determined to emerge on the other side, transformed.

[rottingraisins]

Hi yeah i feel like this is a good time to point out that I am not your guyses friend. I run a blog you like, that's all. If you're being a fucking bully or weird conservative on main, if you straight up vaguepost about me publically, I am allowed to block you and privately find you cringe. If I act fucking "snippy" towards you, that is because I have my own shit going on and I am not responsible for catering to your emotional needs. You are not entitled to my friendship. If you stalk me and find out I don't like you, then I am sorry that this is true of somebody you admire, but the pain it's caused you is not on me. You should not have been stalking me.

I have a right to privacy. I have a right to boundaries. You are not owed access to me or my art. I am a fucking person, not a commodity, Jesus Christ.

[videogamepoc]

Dear generous friends ! Initially, thank you from the bottom of my heart for your ongoing moral and monetary support in time of need. Because of the unbelievebly harsh and tough conditions in Gaza , everything has dramatically changed. Nothing remained stable , even our identities and appearances have changed regardless of the social status we used to have before the war. Doctors teachers nurses , lawyers , businesspeople have all been affected by the war. Nine months of war is enough to change our nature, behavior and personality. Struggling and fighting for securing the least daily living needs are a clear evidence of our suffering and hardship.

Being displaced and homeless after the annihilation of our houses and ownership, I am here today asking you to stand beside us to support our fair cause for freedom and justice.

So, please don't leave us alone in this tough time. Ease our pain and relieve our suffering through your contribution to let us survive this tragedy and genocide.

You can support us either through directly donating whatever you can or sharing the link to let other donors know about us. Don't spare the moment of helping others in time of need. Thanks and appreciation are extended to you for your brave and human stands.

Hi Fadi! Thank you for reaching out to our blog to share your story and fundraiser link!

This fundraiser has been verified by @/nabulsi

Right now, Fadi has only reached $9,530 of his $35,000 goal. He is an 18-year-old Palestinian from Northern Gaza, specifically from Al-Shujaiya.

His family has been displaced to southern Gaza, where they have been living in a small tent with little to no utilities/commodities. Their lives have been totally uprooted by the Zionist genocide and they fear for their safety and futures everyday.

Fadi's studies as a secondary-school student were halted on October 7. The only way to continue his studies is to attend classes in Egypt among other displaced Palestinian students. His brothers have also been displaced and lost their opportunity for a university-level education. They are surrounded by poverty and sickness due to the war. Fadi wrote:

Fleeing to Egypt is the only way to save my family and my future, and I should be so grateful and thankful for every donor who will help evacuate me and my eight -member family to the nearby country, Egypt to end this imminent disaster

PLEASE CONSIDER DONATING TO HELP FADI AND HIS FAMILY!