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yoditopascal · 2 years ago

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Béet

Attuma x black chubby reader smut

summary: With the alliance between Talokan and Wakanda in full swing, training and tactical drills have become a common occurrence. You were one of Shuri’s best and brightest scientists, so why were you stuck on med bay duty and why was the Talokanil Shark General coming in so often? content warnings: canon-typical violence, smut, p in v, attuma himself is a warning, cussing, begging, no real plot just literal attuma brainrot, you need a big boy, thigh riding, fingering, no use of y/n cuz I hate that shit, reader is afab, attuma being an ass, namora okoye and shuri make a cameo

The first time she saw him she was late.

Having missed her first few alarms she was late to work again for the 5th time in a row. Late nights of researching and assisting Shuri with recreating more of the heart shaped herb had finally caught up to her. The dinging of the elevator signaling that she had reached her floor had snapped her out of her thoughts and just as she stepped out onto the lab floor she had to stop herself from damn near walking straight into a huge blue mass. There on the lab floor stood Attuma, one of the generals from Talokan, the nation they had just formed a new alliance with. She had seen him in passing before, mainly when he and the other general Namor came down to run drills with Ayo and Okoye, but never this up close and personal.

God, he was kinda fine.

“Tu'ux le le general?”

He asked, his baritone voice rumbled from his chest as he gave her a once over. The scientist before him was a little thing coming up just under his shoulders but like him was by no means skinny.

She then remembered they didn’t speak the same language as everyone else did, she couldn’t understand him but the word general made it a little easier to figure out what he was there for, he probably had training again.

“Oh you looking for Ayo?”

“Máax ka'ansaje' táan u cargo bejla'e' mina'an ba'ax in k'áaj” his voice came out a little raspier as he stalked closer if that was even possible, and looked down at her from under his lashes.

“Yeeeeah I don’t- I’ll just get Shuri for you” she started cheeks heating up as she felt boxed in. The man was intimidated and he definitely knew it. “I believe Attuma is asking for the General,” an overhead voice interrupted them, “Namora is already on the 14th-floor training with Ayo and Okoye. I’ve taken the liberty of letting them know he’s here.” The young scientist had never been more thankful for the A.I.’s presence.

“Thanks GRIOT.”

“It is my pleasure” Just as she was about to turn her attention back towards Attuma the dinging of the elevator caught her attention as she watched Okoye and Namora enter the lab, both women nodding to her as they entered.

“Llegas chúunk'iin u Attuma” Namora scolded as she crossed her arms over her chest and frowned at the man under her breathing mask.

Waving her off he walked past her into the elevator she just came from but not without giving the scientist one last once over.

That was the start of her week on med bay duty. Once she had finally gotten all clocked in and settled at her work station Shuri had stopped her before she could get too invested in what she had on her desk.

“I’m beginning to worry about you sister, it’s not like you to be late”

“I’m fine Princess-“

Shuri called her name giving her a stern look as she closed the scientist’s laptop forcing her to focus on her.

“I’m just tired is all” she said with a sigh rubbing her forehead trying to ease the beginnings of a headache she felt coming on.

“Maybe you should take a break”

“I can’t afford to take a break, besides you need all the help you can get with this Princess we’re so close to bringing it all back for good.” She pleaded and as Shuri shook her head at her.

“And we will bring it back but not with you at half capacity”

“Shuri-“

“I’m putting you on medical duty. The warriors have been getting roughed up more than usual lately because of the Talokanil soldiers and they could use your help.”

“Are you grounding me?”

“If I have to” “You’re taking a break one way or another.” Shuri chuckled as she pat her on her shoulder and sent her on her way right back out the door she came from.

Shuri wasn’t lying when she said the warriors were getting hurt a lot more than normal lately. Normally the Dora Milaje never had a reason to stop by the medical center on the other side of the building, they could take any and everything that was thrown at them but she suspected that ever since the two generals started sparring with them that it was a little bit more than they could handle, especially from Attuma the man was big damn near the size of M’Baku and she liked that about him.

With her back to the door, the young scientist typed away on her laptop, finishing up her notes from the other night, she didn’t hear the door to the office open until it slammed shut behind the intruder. Startled she jumped in her seat and turned to see Attuma standing furiously as blood seeped from his arm.

“Jesus you scared the shit outta me!”

He didn’t say anything as he stalked over towards her, his dark eyes glaring down at her clearly telling her he didn’t want to be there.

“What happened?” She questioned putting in a pair of gloves and getting out the cotton swabs and cleaning solutions, the cut wasn’t too bad, it was superficial at best, but with him coming and going from the ocean she didn’t want to risk it getting any kind of infection.

Not waiting for him to answer not that she thought he would she gathered her supplies and got to work patching him up.

“You don’t talk very much do you?”

Again he said nothing.

With a sigh, she wrapped up his arm in a waterproof bandage and sent him on his way.

That was just the start of their little meet-ups. Every few days for the last few weeks Attumaor some of his men would come in with a new injury on either his face, his arms or his torso, each one just as bad as the last, courtesy of either Namora or Okoye and each time he visited was just as awkward as the last.

“So what’s the weather like in Talokan?”

“Are you guys only blue on the surface or do you stay blue underwater?”

“Yo, you have gils?! How do they work? “Are they sensitive? Is this kinda like a The Deep kinda situation?”

She tried desperately to make conversation each time she saw the man but each time he just glared at her and went on his way.

By the 5th visit she had resorted to just straight up being an ass to him, she could tell it irritated him but that was usually the only way she could get any kind of conversation out of him.

“Bet Okoye did that to you huh?” She questioned pressing an antibiotic-soaked cotton ball to the cut on his cheek

“She told me she kicked your ass the last time.”

Oh fuck he probably doesn’t understand me she thought as she tried to make conversation. Now that she thought about it she doesn’t know why but she never considered whether he could actually understand her or not, that was probably why he never really answered her.

“Leti' desearía yantalto'on in pateado le!” He growled back with a hiss startling her as the cotton ball in her had pressed to his cut a little harder than she meant, GRIOT translated for her.

“Oh, so he speaks!” She chuckled more to herself. “And you can understand me” She stood going to throw away her gloves, judging by how he had come back without so much as a scratch from his last visit she figured he’d heal by the end of the night and wouldn’t need any bandaging “You just like being stubborn.”

Again he said nothing as he stared her down but this time not with a glare but with an emotion she couldn’t quite place.

“We’ll congratulations you’ll live,” she said with a smirk. Once more Attuma looked her up and down, his expression unreadable before he turned on his heel and left.

The third time he came in it was different.

When he stormed into the med bay like he normally did she noticed almost immediately his wound was a lot more serious this time as blood was pouring from the cut on his neck pooling under his bone gorget. The young scientist jumped from her seat rushing to get her equipment stumbling as she moved about.

“What happened?!”

There was no time for their normal banter as she tried to figure out how to get him to remove his collar. Reaching out to touch the shark teeth that adorn it she’s stopped in her tracks as he aggressively grabs her wrist, tightly holding it in place.

“I need to treat your wound Attuma,” she reasoned snatching her arm back “it looks bad.”

“Yéetel utsil” he huffed as GRIOT translated going to push past her to grab the bandages “Chéen envuélvelo yéetel túuxta'al in tin beel, ma' táan u humor teechi'”

“Look I know you’re used to throwin’ your weight around and getting what you want but I’m not about that shit ok?” She snapped back pushing him back so that he was leaning against the exam table. She knew he had let her but she liked to think she pushed him purely with her own strength. “You’re gonna sit here and let me clean you up.”

“Táak a in tin wu'uyaj meentik in” he snapped going to brush past her but as he reached for the door he felt her grab his forearm and stopped, turning to look back at her.

“Béet” she pleaded.

“Ba'ax” What? GRIOT translated

“ B-béet that’s how you say please right? I know you know what I’m saying so please just listen for once.”

“Multa.” he sighs through his nose going back to the examination table but sitting himself in her chair in front of it instead, if he was going to let her do this he definitely was going to give her an easy time.

“Are you going to tell me how this happened?” beginning to clean his wound out with a swab she thought she’d make small talk but Atuuma obviously had no intentions, examining his neck further she realized he was just another scrap like he always had but the blood pooling out of it had scared her, a lot more than she’d like to admit.

“We going back to the silent treatment again?” again he did nothing but stare as she worked on him from between his legs leaning over him continued to clean the now-closing injury.

With a sigh, she began to pull away when a hand on her arm stopped her "Ba'axten jach dispuesto a wáantiken?" GRIOT translated for him. His grip was firm but still somewhat soft. “It's my job to help you,” she said pulling away and looking into his eyes, there was that same unreadable look in them again. With a slight roll of the eyes. He released his grip. "Yaan ba'ax ma' táan a wa'alik ti' teen." His voice lowered with a bit of annoyance as the A>I> continued to translate for the pair. ”Like I said I know you're Mr. Big and Bad down on the battlefield but you don’t gotta be tough shit here, let somebody take care of you for once.” she said putting a hand to his cheek. His eyes narrowed slightly as he looked into her eyes. His annoyance left as his hand moved onto hers.

Attuma’s eyes briefly flickered up to her lips before going back up meeting her dark eyes again pupils blown wide. He reached up to brush her cheeks with his fingers, thumb tracing over her bottom lip before he leans his masked lips down to hers, trying to kiss her through the material heavy and needy, the force almost knocking her onto her back as she began to kiss him back.

Giving her chest a gentle squeeze his hand slid downward palming at her chest through her shirt drawing out a low moan as his other hand gripped at her thighs and hips practically dragging her into his lap as he worked her pants off.

“Beetej.” he breathed her in as he began to rock her clothed cunt against his knee soaking it in the process.

She moves her hips even quicker, rocking on his thigh, the inside of her own thighs soaked. “Fuck.” She moans, wrapping her arms around the back of his neck to hold him impossibly closer. Eyes closed she could practically feel Attuma staring up at her, his hands roaming her back and chest before coming to rest on her stuttering hips.

Gripping her hips hard he takes over, making her ride his thigh, basking in the soft sounds he was pulling from her. He can feel her cunt clenching against him through her underwear, can feel the wetness pooling on his bare thigh, and he fucking loved it.

“Beetej,” he groaned throwing his head back “Je'el u páajtal a take'”

Slowly, he presses his knee up higher as she grinds down on him adding even more friction. Her eyes fall close and her mouth drops open in a breathy moan as she tries to grip his broad shoulders, hands too small to fully encompass them. She’s unable to kiss him on his lips due to his mask but she still leans forward to press her forehead to his as he continued to work her open.

“Attuma.” She hissed, grasping at his hands as he increased his speed.

“B-bèet…”

“A'al ka'a.” he panted not relenting in his pace as he dragged her down even harder.

“Bèet- fuck please just don’t stop!” Hips bucking wildly she came with a hoarse cry, shaking and riding him as he still rocked her over his thigh.

“Please…” she continued to beg, beginning to feel the twinges of overstimulation. “Please…”

With a loud growl, he ripped her from his thigh and turned her around pressing her chest to the cold steel table below them. The temperature a sharp contrast to her hot skin, as she feels him begins to undress them both.

“Táak in wu'uyikech,” his dark gaze trailed down her back as he tugged her underwear down and tossed them to the side along with her top and bra. His fingers grazed over her clit softly before sinking in curling and scissor around in her spongey walls while his thumb worked at her sensitive bundle of nerves.

Having already been on the end it didn’t take long for her to come again around his finger. Looking back at him as she spasmed on the table she saw hi cock looking painfully hard and dark as it strained against his lower abdomen, leaking at the tip, and looking bigger than she’d imagined

“Jach jodidamente mojado,”Attuma’s voice was rough as he watched her come unraveled beneath him, her arms struggling to hold herself up at she twitched around him uncontrollably on the table.

“A'al ti' teen wa Yaaj in” he said slowly easing his cock into her as he pulled her up and turned her to be on top of him as he set himself back down into her desk chair almost not fitting as he spread his legs.

She cursed, burying her face in the crook of his neck again, her hands roaming his chest and shark tooth scarring on his tummy. She mouthed at his neck kissing at his gils under his apparatus as he began to thrust up into her, already setting a rough pace. They both moaned in unison as she started to bounce, her legs trembling as he split her open on his lap.

“Attuma fuck!”

“Teech jach jodidamente ki'ichpam,”he sighed, Attuma’s voice was hushed as he watched her reaching her peak and tried to kiss her softly through his mask.She felt his hips begin to stutter and began to plead once more.

“Please, I need to feel you”

A strangled sound left Attuma’s mouth, as he roughly slammed up into her hard one final time the loud squelching music to his ears as she continued to bounce softly in his lap while the steady rhythm of his thrusts began to dissolve into a desperate frenzy, moaning huskily as he filled her with his thick hot cum.

As they both came down from their highs she stayed in his lap gently rocking until she came to a full stop. Cum immediately started to seep from between them but before she could stand up to clean up, not that she thought she could at that moment, a blue hand came into her line of vision and pulled her face to his as he kissed her lazily for a moment before pulling away.

It’s then that she noticed that in the heat of it all, he ripped his mask away, drenching them both in seawater and sweat.

“Bèet ìfè mi, again,” she said her voice barely above a whisper as he leaned down to kiss her once more lifting her up to set her back on the examination table.

Translations: Tu'ux le le general? -Where is the general? Máax ka'ansaje' táan u cargo bejla'e' mina'an ba'ax in k'áaj -Whoever’s in charge now I don’t care Llegas chúunk'iin u Attuma -You’re late Attuma Leti' desearía yantalto'on in pateado le! -She wishes she kicked my ass! Yéetel utsil -It’ll be fine Chéen envuélvelo yéetel túuxta'al in tin beel, ma' táan u humor teechi' -Just wrap it and send me on my way I’m in no mood for you Táak a in tin wu'uyaj meentik in -you want me to listen than make me Béet -Please Ba'ax -What? Multa -Fine Ba'axten jach dispuesto a wáantiken -Why are you so willing to help me? Yaan ba'ax ma' táan a wa'alik ti' teen -there's something you're not telling me Beetej -Keep going Je'el u páajtal a take' -you can take it A'al ka'a. -Say it again Táak in wu'uyikech -I want to hear you Jach jodidamente mojado -So fucking wet A'al ti' teen wa Yaaj in -Tell me if it hurts Teech jach jodidamente ki'ichpam -You’re so fucking beautiful ìfè mi -my love (in Yoruba)

@lunamoonbby

#attuma smut #attuma imagine #attuma x reader #mcu attuma #attuma x black reader #black panther #marvel cinematic universe #alex livinalli

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mentallyinwalmart · 5 months ago

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An incomprehensive list of Bridgerton S3’s biggest failures

I’ve had the time to reflect since premier and watch a second time, so these are my thoughts. I’m begging Shonda to change my mind w pt2 but as of rn I hold little hope this won’t be the worst season by an embarrassing margin

1. Failure to flesh out Polin’s preexisting relationship (that leads to a huge bungling of Colin and Eloise’s relationship!!!)

The biggest response I’ve seen to a critique I share is that polin had such a strong preexisting dynamic that is makes sense they were featured less heavily than other couples. Now I see conceptually where that idea comes from, Pen liking Colin and him being oblivious have been cornerstones of the last two seasons, however, all their new scenes were presented to us sterile and without either sexual chemistry or a callback to a prior scene they had shared (or something perhaps we hadn’t seen, such as the time a decade prior Cressida mentions, when “the Featherington’s moved in across the street” instead we see confusing scenes that make little sense ESPECIALLY when we have no prior on screen (nor flashback) foundation for Pen and Colin’s friendship WITHOUT Eloise. Without her to act as middle woman this season, and with no flashbacks or reminiscing, the dynamic of true friendship between Pen and Colin feels forced. (And side note— as a sister, if my brother picked a friend of mine over me after we’ve had a relationship-ending fight that I refuse to even talk about??? That’s crazy— this is why I say it ruined both Colin and Pen AND Colin and Eloise’s dynamics— because I’d hope my brother would never do that to me, and without any more context besides mere letters as to why Colin would still entertain Pen now that Eloise has been betrayed by her? Near nonsensical)

2. Sudden appearance of a plus sized debutante(s) and no comments on Pen’s looks/weight

For the past two seasons there have been no size diversity besides Pen in Bridgerton, and don’t get me wrong, I think all the debutantes are beautiful this season, and I am thrilled that there is more expansion and diversity in the cast and the ton!!! But after making it such a big deal for the past several seasons, to try and make the ton size-blind reads as a cop out to me. Colin needs to face that facts head on that he has counted Pen out because of her size, just as everyone else has.

I could continue for actual pages because I have issues from Benedict‘s confounded character to Eloise’s sudden betrayal of her values (and friends/sisters??) to Cressida’s random??? redemption. But these are the two I am most frustrated by !

#briderton #bridgerton s3 #polin #polin bridgerton #penelope featherington #penelope bridgerton #colin bridgerton #colin x penelope #Bridgerton s2 #Bridgerton spoilers #Bridgerton rant #Polin disappointment #eloise bridgerton #violet bridgerton #portia featherington

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thisismorrigan · 11 months ago

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Some of my favorite Good Omens fanfictions from AO3 part 1

So this list is something I've been putting together for awhile and I'm pretty proud of it! As this list grows I will continue to post more parts in the future! The current list I have is so long I think i'm going to need two or three posts! So keep an eye out if you are interested!

ALSO side note! I know there are pleanty of these authors that I've found on Tumblr and I will do my best to find all of them and tag them as well! It will just take a little bit more time!

Completed works:

Winged Awakening by AJ_Constance (E)

For all of you out there who wish their wings were out more this fic is for you. This is such a well written wing fic with just a bit (by a bit I mean a lot) of nervous/protective Crowley. The ending had me kicking my feet and giggling. These two idiots always take too long to understand what’s actually going on!

The Corruption Begins With The Mouth by toxic_androgyny (E)

This one made me so emotional! It’s hurt Crowley and hurt Aziraphale with food and smut. The ending had me in a puddle of angsty tears.

The Soft Animal Of Your Body by focusfixated (E)

This is a great take on how Aziraphale would respond to “hunger” for the first time. This is the scene in s2e2 when Az tries human food for the first time and realizes he has been hungry for something else entirely for a very long time. `

Because You’ll Like It by mimsynims (E)

This is a forced proximity, nemesis with benefits one shot and I’m really sad there isn’t more to this story! There is one line in this fic that hurt my soul. I’m sure once you read it you will know exactly what i’,m talking about.

Just For The Night by mimsynims (E)

Silly ghosts haunting Crowley’s apartment that are tired of watching these idiots not realizing they are in love with each other.

Vive La Revolution by lineslines (E)

This is one of the best versions of the Bastille scene I’ve read! It’s a lot of pining while *being together* and it’s so well written. I was left wanting so much more from this plot and I’m happy to say that there is a sister fic! Chocolates, Honey!

Chocolates, Honey by lineslines (E)

This is the sister fic to Vive La Revolution by lineslines. This one is a little more soft but don’t let that fool you. The pining is REAL and it hurts my soul.

The Devil Came To Soho by Zion (artificalmac) (E)

The demon Crowley comes to Earth to tempt the angel Aziraphale. Each chapter is Crowley trying to tempt Az into one of the 7 deadly sins but it’s not going the way he thought it would. Also did I mention Crowley owns a tattoo shop??

Laying Claim by fallenwithoutgrace (E)

Accidental proposal! This fic is so silly to start but it’s so cute and I just love protective Crowley so much.

Why Is It That I Am Keen To Be Devoured By You? By Maybedreaming (E)

So I beg you to please read the tags on this one. This is a consensual non consent story and if you are at all bothered by any of the warnings in the tags please don’t read this. BUT if you are into this kind of thing, this story is done very well! I felt so many emotions reading this and I appreciate how the author handled Crowley in the aftermath of what happened.

#aziracrow fanfic recommendation #aziracrow #good omens #good omens fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfiction recommendation #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #crowley #anthony j crowley #Help me I'm in too deep #fanfiction masterlist #master list #go2 #fanfic rec #ineffable divorce #ineffable fanfic

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horsetailcurlers2 · 7 months ago

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YET ANOTHER long and obnoxious stream of my thoughts while watching greys anatomy for the first time (S19 bc i’m finally caught up, babey!!!! (phew))

-i hope this new class of residents isn’t as one dimensional as the last one

-“you say please to bhokee!” hell yeah you do schmitt. (i love that she did say please he was just so ready to jump down her throat about it lmoa)

-DEREK’S NEPHEW ?????!!! WHICH SISTER? my money is on nancy bc i always thought she was the oldest so she would have the son old enough to be out of med school

-okay i’m too curious (for some reason i’ve always just been curious about the shepherds) so i’ve gone back to S15E21 (good shepherd) to see if i could get a better look at nancy’s wall of family photos. i see one of nancy with a young curly haired girl, kathleen with a light haired child, and two photos that are just groups of kids. my assumption is that these two are all of nancy’s kids because if she had photos of her nieces and nephews i feel like they would include their parents. both photos show two boys and two girls. it looks like the same four kids just at two different ages. the oldest (or at least the tallest) in both photos is a boy with dark hair. this may support my theory that nancy is lucas’s mother. the rest of the photos aren’t very clear. the only thing is that all of the kids look very fair and lucas is not. they also clearly wrote this episode way after they shot the scene with amelia looking at the photos so they may have not even bothered with details that were meant to be sort of irrelevant at the time.

-okay this is a very tragic story with (griffin??? griffith??) and makes her lateness and weirdness understandable but am i the only one who thinks it’s insanely bizarre to be sharing your tragic life story to your superior on your first day?

-idk about this season yet. i feel them trying to sort of mirror season one in some ways, focusing more on the interns (which i think i like), trying to connect back to old characters, but it feels a *little* forced so far

-i like mean and snappy teddy

-have we ever seen this library before?

-“i tried to implement similar changes at various times and was always met with resistance” ???? when did bailey try to implement those changes to the residency program? she implemented changes but they for sure weren’t these ones

-why is it better for them to think he’s sleeping with her????? jfc lucas

-ADDISON LOOKS SO HOT. i like this costuming for her. very reminiscent of her private practice wardrobe

-i really like baileys braids this season btw. and i like that she has a special scrub cap that can cover them all

-lucas’s dad is from barbados. idk what to do with that but it is another clue lmao. if nothing else, i’m hooked on this season just to find out who his mother is

-no comment on the dancing

-helm looks really cute as a bartender

-owen when teddy isn’t super happy and content with him after he fucked them over and put their children’s well-beings at risk: 😯

-addison and tom should have met

-oh my god just tell them you’re a nepo baby!! they think you’re fucking your aunt!

-it made complete sense to bring addison back for this storyline. i hope they explore it a little more and keep bringing her back.

-i’m so confused about lucas’s whole complex. wouldn’t he have grown up with his dad’s last name anyway? why has this been an issue “all his life”??? and until he went to med school i doubt anybody even knew the significance of him being a shepherd

-what planet is owen living on where he thinks they would let him be chief again rn

-i can see myself shipping mike chang and mary queen of scots once they develop their characters a bit more. simone and lucas i like in theory but idk about the chemistry

-“i am not going to beg you to love me” good meredith bc that didn’t work out so well the first time u did it

-intern house is back!!! i really like that actually

-a full time administrative assistant is completely reasonable. richard had patricia when he was chief

-looking very hot for having just been hit by a car

-winston definitely had a point at first but at this point he’s pissing me off. it’s reminding me of that big meredith and cristina fight in the sense that it feels like he’s deliberately taking everything she’s doing and saying in the worst possible way.

-richard and addison’s dynamic is so underrated

-this is incredibly random but it just popped into my head. it’s so weird that amelia has never brought up her friend michelle on greys. you know, her friend from pp that committed suicide bc she had huntingtons which ultimately kickstarted amelia’s relapse. i feel like it could have been relevant to a few cases

-pru is so fucking cute

-so many people keep leaving i don’t really have a reaction to it anymore. but i will very much miss maggie. ik a lot of people don’t like maggie (prob bc they thought she was trying to fill the spaces that lexi and cristina left behind) but i really liked her. i think i found her very relatable in a lot of ways. even/especially when she was a little annoying lol

-why is this guy specifically requesting bailey? (not that she’s not great at her job it just has suspicious vibes) is he one of the anti choice harassers? nervous for that especially since addison is here so i feel like it will be about that storyline

-jesus christ i knew it. bc it’s so “pro life” to threaten a child!!!!!! go kwan though. and teddy!

-JUJU!!!

-yasuda x helm <3

-cristina mention !!!!

-i really like that there’s no intern/attending relationships lately

-i’m doubling down on thinking lucas is nancy’s bc i think if he has adhd, kathleen likely would have noticed bc she’s a psychologist. obviously it’s possible she wouldn’t have, everyone has blind spots but i think this makes the most sense still. and ik he could still be liz’s but i’m still unsure on if the ages work out and i think they were banking on which actress would be more likely to make an appearance later on and neve campbell is less likely to come back than the others.

-uggh why do i HATE simone’s wedding dress.

-omg i’m a terrible person i didn’t realize it was her late mother’s. i’m so sorry the fit of it just looks off

-i wonder how they’re going to ruin/derail this wedding? they’ve already done leaving at the altar, objections, elopements. maybe the twist is that she actually goes through with it?? or they’ll just be boring and so the same thing they’ve done before

-i like that they still call it “joe’s” even though we never see joe anymore

-winston is getting on my nerves. he always starts off having a point and then he gets all immature and petty about it

-dude that is not how a DNR works

-aww yay for bailey

-side note amelia looks great

-TEDDY!!!

#greys anatomy #you guys this was a lot but i did it #i didn’t watch the latest ep of season 20 but other than that i’m all caught up #i’d like to thank my agoraphobia and my unemployment for making it possible for me to have watched this much television #on my knees praying to any deity that addison shows up in s20 but it seems unlikely #i don’t even like the shoe anymore i just don’t want to give up now lmao #meredith grey #teddy altman #addison montgomery #amelia shepherd #these are all tagged under #greys reactions

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guess-my-next-obsession · 2 years ago

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Ivy & Stone, Chapter Ten: The Runaway

pairing: victorian au!frankie morales x oc (Florence Bell), victorian au!javi gutierrez x oc (Florence Bell)

rating: M (angst, javi’s dad sucks so bad, derogatory language, period realistic gender/class dynamics)

wc: 2.9k

series masterlist

Frankie felt like he got the wind knocked out of him.

He couldn’t mistake the sound of Florence’s pleasure, and though he knew it would kill him, his feet continued carrying him closer and closer to her bedroom door until he could hear and see everything.

He could hear her begging for another man, see her on all fours for him, but it wasn’t until he heard her tell him that she loved him more than anything that the ax he was holding fell from his hand and onto the hardwood floor with a crash. He stood there frozen, watching as Florence gasped and turned to look at him, but he could only manage a single glance before feeling as though he was going to vomit.

Frankie hurried as fast as he could out of the house, his head spinning a hundred miles a minute as he ran through the garden to his little cabin, Florence’s voice haunting him the entire time, distracting him from his surroundings until he bumped right into another person—Anna.

“Frankie?” she gasped at his ghastly pale state. “What’s happened?”

“What—you’re supposed to be at the wedding. You’re too young to be traveling on your own at this time—“

“Frankie, I am freshly eight and ten years old,” she chuckled. “I am a woman now. Just…just as much of a woman as my sister.”

Frankie’s brows laced together as she reached up to hold his face in her gloved palm, only to have him move it back down with a shake of his head.

“Anna, I am sorry, but I do not—you are my friend. And you are a child.”

“My sister is only three years older than me, but you don’t consider her a child,” Anna spat. Frankie didn’t know what to say to the young girl, but knew he had to do something to get her back to her parents before they all came worriedly looking.

“Anna,” he sighed, combing his hand over his face.

“What’s happened? You haven’t answered me.” Frankie stared down at his shoes as he played the scene over and over in his head like he was stuck on a loop that never ended.

“Anna?” The sound of Florence’s voice caused the memory to screech to a halt. Frankie didn’t turn to her—he couldn’t will himself to move—but watched as realization had dawned on her younger sister as Javi stepped out behind her. “What are you doing here? Have you gone mad? Mother will kill you for taking the carriage—“

“And you?” she spat. “Perfect Florence with her perfect fiancé and perfect life who still feels the need for more.”

“Anna, you have no idea what you’re talking about—“

“You already have someone! And yet you’re like a selfish little girl hoarding your toys in the corner while the rest of us are left to play pretend!” Anna shouted. “What makes you so special that they both love you like this? When I have no one? When all I’ve wanted is—“

“Anna,” Javi cleared his throat and stepped forward, resting his hand on her shoulder. “Let us take you back to the ball. I’m sure your parents are sick with worry.”

“No. My place is with Frankie.” Anna walked over and grabbed Frankie’s hand to clasp with her own. Frankie’s shocked eyes turned to Florence who was now seething.

“You’ve been fooling around with my sister?” she yelled, walking over to hit him over the arm with her clutch. “She’s just a child!”

“I haven’t!” Frankie caught her wrist in his hand and forced her to look into his eyes, the two of them losing time as their souls connected for the first time since the winter. In a softer voice, he let her wrist go and shook his head. “I haven’t.”

“Then why is she acting like you have?”

“I do not know—“

“Because I am in love with him!” Anna squealed, tired of being left out of yet another conversation. “I have been in love with him long before you ever got your claws in him. It’s me who deserves his love—“

“There’s a carriage coming,” Javi said simply, wanting to stay out of this drama so he could deal with his own.

Everyone stood and watched as Benjamin stepped out of his carriage with a furious scowl that resembled their father’s, even in the darkness of the night.

“Leave it to my siblings to pull me away from my wedding festivities over—what? What is this loud squabble about now? We can hear your shouting at the bloody party!” Benjamin rested his hands on his hips and stared at each of them.

“Florence and Javi snuck off first,” Anna spoke up, earning a pinch from her sister.

“Anna snuck off alone to visit Frankie—a man sixteen years your senior,” Florence countered.

Benjamin breathed in a deep sigh and rubbed his temples.

“I just married the only sane woman in England,” he sighed. “Javier, please take my sister back to the party. Anna, you’ll come with me—

“No!” She screamed, piercing everyone’s hearing. “I want to stay with Frankie.”

“You will see him in the morning,” he pled. “Get in the carriage.”

“No.”

“Anna,” Frankie sighed. “Go. There is no place for you with me.”

“Why?” she asked, verging on tears. “Why don’t you love me? I look like her, I can…I can learn to act like her. You can love me and pretend it’s her.”

Frankie shook his head and gave her a serious look.

“True love would never ask that of either of us,” he said. “Wait for a love where you do not have to pretend. You deserve that.”

“Anna, in the carriage,” Benjamin sighed, this time watching as his sister obeyed him.

Frankie stood watching Florence, unable to take his eyes off her as she walked off towards her carriage with Javier beside her but not touching her. He felt his breath hitch as she turned to look back at him with tear-filled, apologetic eyes, as though it all had hurt her just as much as it did him. He supposed it did, but it did nothing to heal the ache in his chest.

Turning to walk down the well trodden path to his cottage on the edge of the estate, he let his tears fall freely over what was once his only reason of living now clearly over.

No one knew except Lord Thomas that tonight would be his last night in England, his things packed in crates, his journey over the Atlantic already paid for and arranged for the next evening. He preferred it that way, no fanfare or goodbyes. No looks of sympathy or jealousy from the other servants. Just him and his broken dreams.

Florence couldn’t find sleep no matter how hard she tried. Her only person of comfort in this world—anymore, at least—was currently the person she least wanted to see. Not that she could seek him out in this palace full of her blood family and family by law without someone catching on.

Instead of walking upstairs to Javi’s bedroom, she walked down to the kitchens, desperate to find some tea concoction that would finally give her the chance to rest her mind for a while before life began demanding things from her again.

As she shuffled about making her tea, she heard footsteps near the kitchen, the faint yellow glow of a lantern lighting up the hall until there was a face to attribute the sounds to.

“My lord,” Florence gasped at the sight of Javi’s father, the Viscount, standing in the doorway. “I apologize if I’ve woken you.”

“No,” he shook his head. “I was already awake tending to business.”

Florence nodded, noting how much thicker his accent was than his son.

“Having trouble sleeping?” he asked, earning another sheepish nod. “I have mastered the art of making bedtime tea. May I?”

“Of course.” She moved from the kettle as he walked closer, her fear of the harsh and judgmental father of her betrothed keeping her from extending her usual friendliness his way.

“The wedding tonight was lovely, wasn’t it?” he asked, lighting the candles in the room to brighten it before doing the same with the stove.

“It was. I’ve never seen my brother so in love.”

“It won’t be much longer until you and Javier will be doing the same,” he turned to give her what she assumed to be a smile, even though it hardly reached his lips. “Are you excited about the wedding?”

Florence swallowed the lump that had been in her throat all night, forcing a smile onto her face as she nodded.

“Truthfully, I never had hope for my son. He was too busy fulfilling every whim and desire of his heart to think about our family line.” Florence held back her eye roll. “He was truly a disappointment. Until he met you, that is.”

“I happen to think your son is a genius,” she said, setting aside her current anger to stand up for the man she loved. “His soul is rare. Beautiful, even.”

“You sound like my wife,” he chuckled. “Sentimental women.”

Florence sucked in a deep breath to control her tongue that ached to tear him down in the way he seemed to tear everyone down.

“Are you pure?” he asked, seemingly out of nowhere.

“Excuse me, my lord?”

“Have you been bedded?” he asked, turning to give her a serious look.

“My lord—“

“My son is to be Viscount after I die,” he said. “He cannot have a whore for a wife. I hope you do not mind my asking, I am simply looking out for my family.”

As Florence opened her mouth to lay into him, another set of footsteps hurried their way to the kitchen. Florence let her breath sigh out in relief when Javi’s face appeared, worry and concern written all over it as he looked from Florence to his father.

“My love,” he said, walking to stand beside her as she nearly shook with rage. “It’s late.”

“I…couldn’t sleep,” she whispered, her eyes gesturing behind him at his father. “The Viscount offered to make me a cup of tea.”

Javi clenched his jaw at the sight of her teary eyes, knowing first hand the cruelty of his father’s words.

“But I feel quite tired now,” she continued. “I think I will be off to bed—“

“Not until you answer my question,” the Viscount’s voice stopped her as she moved to walk out of the room with Javi at her side.

“Father, she is tired,” Javi interjected.

“Well, perhaps you can answer it for her.” Javi tensed as his father turned around to look at him. “Is she pure? Or have you soiled her like you do everything else?”

“She is pure,” Javi said simply, even if it was a lie. “Now if that is all—“

“Interesting,” he chuckled. “Because I’ve heard rumors of an affair between your bride to be and a member of her family’s staff.”

Florence squeezed Javi’s hand as she held it, wishing that if she willed it hard enough, the conversation would end.

“Since when do you listen to rumors, father?”

“Rumors are what led me to discover your affair with that Seaworth fellow, Javi,” the older man smirked.

“We are going to bed,” Javi said sternly.

“Si, sí,” he nodded and turned his eyes to Florence. “It will be wonderful having you as a member of our family, Florence.”

Javi didn’t give Florence the chance to reply, not that she wanted to. He was rushing her upstairs to the safety of her guest room, closing and locking the door behind him before reaching to cup her face in his hand.

“Did he hurt you? Touch you? Anything?” he asked, surveying her for any marks.

“No, he didn’t touch me. Just insinuated that I’m a whore and called you a disappointment,” she replied dryly. “I can safely say that I hate your father.”

“I can safely agree with you on that,” he let out a breath of a chuckle before softening his eyes on her. “I know you are still angry with me, and I do not blame you, but may I stay with you tonight?” Florence gave him an uncertain look and lowered her eyes from his. “I swear—I will not touch you. I will sleep on the chaise. I just…want to be certain you are alright.”

“Of course,” she nodded, her voice faint with the equal amount of love and resentment she held for him. “Of course you can stay.”

Javi gave her an adoring smile and nodded before leaning in to press a kiss onto her forehead only to be guided lower to her lips.

“As mad as I am—“ She kissed him again. “I cannot stop loving you.”

Javi had no choice but to follow her as she led him to her bed.

“My love—“

“Do not get too excited,” she chuckled. “I only mean for you to share my bed tonight.”

“Of course,” he nodded and smiled before joining her beneath the bedding, allowing her to rest her head on his chest as she cozied herself safely into his side. “May I…ask you something? About…Mr. Morales?”

Florence sighed and lifted her head to look up at him.

“I suppose.”

“How did the two of you meet?” he asked, no anger or jealousy in his voice now that he’d already gotten it out of his system.

“He was hired by my father a few winters ago,” she said. “But we didn’t begin…speaking…until last spring.”

“And what was it that drew you in?”

“I do not know,” she chuckled nervously. “He was always there, tending to the garden or fixing something in the house. He was quiet, and thoughtful. The only person that spoke to me like I had a mind rather than simply beauty and wealth. Until you, that is.”

“Your younger siblings seem awfully attached to him,” he said, running a finger up and down her arm that rested over his stomach. “Anna in particular.”

“Yes,” she sighed.

“And you do not believe he’s…spoken to her, as well?”

“I don’t,” she replied. “He wouldn’t.”

“Men are the worst creatures to walk this earth, mi vida,” he said. “Never underestimate that.”

“Frankie is good. Just like you,” she stroked her thumb over his jaw. “I believe him.”

Javi nodded, letting the topic rest.

“Can I ask you something?” Javi’s eyes met hers, carefully studying them before nodding. “Your father—has he always been this way? Was he…never good to you?”

“If he was, I cannot remember it,” he said. “Since I was a boy, he’s only ever been impossible to please. My mother is the only person who’s been able to make something resembling a human out of him. I both pity and respect her for tolerating him as long as she has.”

“He’s hit you?” she asked, rubbing her palm over his chest.

“Yes.”

“Your father has all the money in the world,” she said. “And yet he can’t find a way to buy himself decency. A good heart. You, my love,” she lifted her hand to rest on his cheek, her eyes locking with his. “You have a good heart. You are decent.”

“Even after—“

“Even then.”

“That is all,” Frankie announced after packing the last of his crates onto his wagon, turning to Lord Thomas as he stood with him outside of the manor.

“I wish you a safe voyage,” Lord Thomas said. “Everything aside, you have served our family loyally. I thank you for that.”

Frankie only nodded in confirmation.

“My brother will be there to greet you at the port.”

“Thank you, sir.”

With a handshake, Frankie climbed onto his horse and gave the garden one last look before trotting off down the long road that led to the harbor where he’d catch his train later this evening.

He tried not to think of the afternoons spent in the warm sun, Florence sitting on her favorite bench reading while he tended to the hedges. He tried not to think of the way she’d stare at his back until it felt like she was burning holes into it, forcing him to turn around and look at her mischievous smirk. And he tried, most of all, not to think of how it felt to pin her against the grass, to touch her, to feel her bloom for him like a flower.

But so far, he was failing.

It was dark by the time he reached the harbor, the chill of the air forcing him to shiver as he unloaded his wagon crate by crate until there was nothing left. Handing his ticket to the guard, he boarded the ship, finding a table in the tea room so that he could calm his nerves with a cup of chamomile. Pulling out his journal, he began to write about his journey so far, of the way the country seemed so large and yet, suffocatingly small. It was then that he felt the ship pull off the harbor, drawing his eyes to the dark ocean that quickly surrounded the boat.

“Frankie,” a voice called his name, forcing his eyes to whip around to take in a worryingly familiar face.

“Anna?”

•

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fluff #frankie morales #frankie morales fluff #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales x oc #frankie morales angst #javi g #javi g x oc #javi gutiérrez x oc #javi gutierrez #javi g fanfiction #javi g fic #javi g angst #ivy & stone

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neteyamsilly · 2 years ago

Note

Hi!! It’s Ramble anon!!

I wanted to gush a little about part 3!! (I wanted to do it sooner, but I had a big exam in the late morning 😔)

It was a lovely read, you write so daintily, it feels like I’m watching a movie instead of reading a story!!

First of all, I wanted to say that I‘m so happy that you enjoy what I write to you! I absolutely have a blast rambling to you, the creator of this beautiful story, about anything that gets my attention, I’m so honored😭 (and absolutely do not be sorry!! Take your time for anything!!)

Ik there are siblings outings, just spilling the tea 😌

Lo’ak and Y/N totally sound like the siblings that would bicker and be mean and sarcastic to each other, but the moment someone messes with one of them... (when they DO hang out, they are like SO reckless lmao, I think they wouldn’t be allowed, they would need a chaperone (Neteyam 😭))

About the colors of the Ikrans!!

Neteyam -> ikran with greenish hues like Seze

Lo’ak -> ikran with blueish hues like Bob

Kiri -> now, it’s just an headcanon!! But I’d like to think that her ikran has light lilac hues like Vitraya Ramunong, with a little bit of green in the chin and tail and sprinkled a bit on the back (because she’s so connected to Eywa, it’d be kinda cool!) (from what I’ve seen in the comics (not much tbh) Kiri’s ikran is like greenish? Oh well)

And Y/N: I absolute have no idea!! Do you have any? I’m super curious! (Btw I LOVE his personality (he’s a boy!!! So cute 😭)

“the vibe of an older sister who doesnt want to hang with her younger siblings” PLSS 😭 she doesss look like that, I KNOW Tuk begs and begs

Now about the chapter!!

Quaritch calling u sweetheart 🤢

The headbutt scene made me so happy, Fuck You Quarith Get Wrecked

But Y/N thinking her dad would leave her to fend for herself is so heartbreaking, but what was even more heartbreaking, was Y/N trying to hide her gunshot wound, she was so scared, I loved the scene, I felt how panicked she was.. (her trying to console her mom, PLS; BUT her dad NOT consoling her after she got kidnapped and almost got killed?? FOUL)

Btw Like HOW strong is she to be able to hide a gunshot would to her abdomen?? My girl is STURDY

And her ikran bringing Neytiri and Jake to Y/N!! Neytiri was so sad she got her ikran (I think it’s something that will be talked about again 😭)

[..] Father is angry, I don’t—”

“Nonsense.” Incredulous and enraged suddenly about something you couldn’t put a finger on [..]

Ik Jake was scared, but man, he chose to go THE wrong way about it 😭, I mean IGNORING her??

[..] “Don’t tell him! Don’t tell father! He’ll really kill me for this—”

“No, no no no,” she shook her head, frenzied, tone cracked from beginning to end. “Do not say that. Don’t you ever say that—”

[..] “He’ll be so angry,” you begged, pleading, pink spit bubbling at the corners of your mouth. The sound of gurgling accompanying the words you forced your whole body to form. “You can’t tell him — you can’t! He already hates me!” [..]

“Please don’t be mad,” you shuddered, meek and unsteady, tunnel vision flickering at the edges only perceiving him. “It’s my fault—I’m sorry—please don’t be angry—”

[..] he didn’t even want to hear you talking.

And you fulfilled his wish.

YOU ARE CRUSHING MY HEART PLS 😭

It’s battered to the ground, it’s been stepped on and spit on

Her siblings are going to be so horrified, I can only imagine Neteyam’s guilt (he was so worried, poor boy) and Lo’ak’s 😭 (He was mocking her so much, such sibling behavior lmao, but I think he will feel like very BAD about it, but who knows??)

“The way Neytiri is going to smear your face with blood eerily the same pattern as she’s freaking out is going to be so symbolic — that this is your ceremonial paint and what a bad omen it is. A direct punishment from Eywa made clear to your parents”

IRMA, WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY THAT 🤨

Pls this is going to hurt so good 😭

Thank you so much!! ❤️❤️

(I’m so tired, my energy was sucked off from that exam, I hope there are not any mistakes lmao)

HI RAMBLE ANON, please don't worry about it, ur not obligated to send me these amazing messages in the first place, I will be happy regardless whenever or ifever I get them, I will always be thankful! I hope your exam results will be exactly how you wanted them to be 💞💞

YEAHHHHH SHE AND LO'AK ARE JUST MENACES TOGETHER!! I remember talking about this in another ask, but I have to say I really imagine Sister!Reader traumatizing Aonung for almost getting Lo'ak killed, like, the scene I have in my mind goes like: even after Lo'ak and Aonung reach a mutual understanding and empathy, to make him feel the hopelessness and abandonment her brother felt, she takes Aonung as high as they can in her ikran and just plays acrobatics with him 😭 Aonung thinks he'll literally die DHSJDS She is NOT playing around. When Jake is about to scold her (but really is SUPER proud she disguised it as "friends being pals") she is like "well i had to teach him not to mess with my siblings again. in good sport, of course. like you said" and Jake can barely stop the smirk LMAOOOO

And the ikran colors! I really love your headcanon of Kiri's ikran being the tree of souls' colors OH MY GOD!

Part of why I answered this question too late was that I didn't want to reveal sister!reader's ikran's colors bc it was supposed to be a surprise! But DUDUNNNN it's Toruk's color scheme!!! Not the prettiest color palette but it's 🤙🏻symbolic🤙🏻 you know? And sister!reader is the only one having a warm-colored ikran in her family. All the others have pretty forest-colored ones. She is all fire.

Also, Jake was so busy panicking about Quaritch and how they literally went undetected right under his nose that he forgot 😭 It's good angst material, though. His mind is always on how to protect that he fails to most of the time. (Am I a jake apologist???? GASP)

AND EHEHEH I HOPE YOU LIKE THE BLOODIED IKNIMAYA MOMENT IN THE NEW CHAPTER, I SAID WHAT I SAID!

Thank you so much for this! I hope you have an amazing day <33

#irma mirma ask mask #irmanons: ramble anon

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theorphaninthetardis · 2 years ago

Text

Chapter Fifty-Nine

"Now then, peoples of the Earth," the Master begins, and faces the camera, "Please attend carefully." The Doctor glances over at his companions, and pulls the key off his neck. He takes off for the Master, but two of the men in black grab him by the elbows. The Master steps forward, "We meet at last, Doctor. Oh, ho. I love saying that."

"Stop it! Stop it now!" he begs his friend.

The Master laughs, "As if a perception filter's going to work on me." Jack and Martha step forward together, and the Master nods at the guards to stop them, "And look, it's the girlie and the freak. Although, I'm not sure which one's which." Jack races forward, shaking off the guards grasp. Saxon grins, and aims something vaguely like the Doctor's sonic at him. Jack freezes, and then collapses, dead on the ship of the deck."Laser screwdriver. Who'd have sonic? And the good thing is, he's not dead for long. I get to kill him again!" he grins.

"Master, just calm down. Just look at what you're doing. Just stop. If you could see yourself—" the Doctor pleads.

"Oh, do excuse me," he says to the camera, "Little bit of personal business. Back in a minute." He walks away from the camera, "Let him go." He turns from the Doctor, and meets Sophie's eyes. "My dear Miss McCoy, so happy you could make it. I do have just one word for you. He leans closer to her, and she can see the crazed look in his eyes, "Telic."

Sophie's mind goes blank, and her spine straightens, a peaceful smile on her face, "Master. What is it you would like me to do?"

The Doctor's face darkens, "You let her go, right now."

"Oh, how to shut him up?" the Master laughs. "I know. Memory Lane. Professor Lazarus. Remember him and his genetic manipulation device? What, did you think that little Tish got that job merely by coincidence? I've been laying traps for you all this time. And if I can concentrate all that Lazarus technology into one little screwdriver? But, ooo, if I only had the Doctor's biological code. Oh, wait a minute, I do." He pulls open a large metal briefcase beside him, and removes the hand in a jar. "I've got his hand. And if Lazarus made himself younger, what if I reverse it? Another hundred years?"

He once again aims his screwdriver, this time at the Doctor. He starts to convulse rapidly. Jack revives as the Time Lord shudders. He grabs Sophie's ankle, and she raises an eyebrow, and pulls away. "Sophie?"

"I'm afraid Miss McCoy is under my control now, Captain," the Master states.

Jack looks to his sister, and then back at the Time Lord, "You b*st*rd, let her f*cking go."

The Master stops zapping the Doctorz and he looks up, looking at least a hundred years older. Martha crouches on the floor beside him, "Doctor? I've got you."

"Miss McCoy, could you please get me out special guests?"

She nods, "Of course, my Master."

She steps out of the room, and grabs the cable ties that are fastening the Jones' families hands together. "We've flown them in all the way from prison," the Master smiles, and gestures to the family.

Martha runs at them, and wraps her arms around her mother, who almost immediately apologises.

The Doctor forces himself to a sitting position, "The Toclafane. What are they? Who are they?"

The Master crouches in front of him, and sets a hand on his chest, "Doctor, if I told you the truth, your hearts would break."

One of the male spheres flies over, and hovers above the Time Lords heads, "Is it time? Is it ready?"

The female sphere joins him, "Is the machine singing?"

The Master stands up, and checks the timepiece on his wrist, "Two minutes past." He heads back over to the cameras, "So, Earthings. Basically, er, end of the world," he shrugs, "Here come the drums!"

The song 'Voodoo Child' begins blasting all over the Valiant. Sophie follows the Master and his wife over to the windows, and watches as a tear appears in the sky above the ship. Thousands of Toclafane pour out of the tear.

"How many do you think?" the Master asks, leaning toward his wife.

She looks around, seeming overwhelmed, "I, I don't know."

"Six billion." He swings his hand downward, "Down you go, kids!" The spheres fly down toward the planet, opening fire on the way down. "Shall we decimate them?" he asks, addressing Sophie.

"Whatever you want, my Master."

"That sounds good. A nice word, decimate. Remove one tenth of the population!" he shouts. "Miss McCoy, help me with granddad over here," he states. They turn around, and Martha vanishes with the help of the Vortex Manipulator. The Master shrugs, as Sophie pulls the Doctor to his feet. She holds him up, so he can watch the slaughter of planet earth far below. "And so it came to pass that the human race fell, and the Earth was no more. And I looked down upon my new dominion as Master of all, and I thought it good."

Well folks, we've come to the end of Book 2. Book 3 will be out in the coming months, just keep your eyes peeled.

#Doctor Who #Doctor Who fanfiction

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mostlymarvelsstuff · 2 years ago

Text

To Call You Mine

Chapter 2

Authors note: this chapter heavily focuses on domestic violence so please read with caution

Warnings: domestic violence, borderline sa

Word count: 1715

Nat Masterlist Marvel Masterlist TCYM Masterlist

The ride home for Natasha and Bruce had been silent except for the small noises from the pup in the backseat. But as soon as they're through the front door his hand is around her throat as he presses her back against the wall. Her eyes go wide as she gasps in pain, and tears well up in her eyes as she holds her pup tightly.

“Bruce” she gasps, “Bruce, please”

“Shut. Up.” he growls, squeezing a bit tighter, “You know you're not supposed to be near her.”

“She was just saying hi” Nat defends, “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Bullshit! You didn’t tell her to leave and you didn’t leave! You wanted her there!” he yells, pressing her further into the wall

“Please Bruce, not while I hold Dima” she begs as her tears spill down her cheeks, “Please, I don’t want you to hurt him.”

He releases his hold on her, swiftly taking the pup from her grasp. She whines, following him without being told and watching as he walks the boy to his room and settles him into the small nest. He quietly leaves and gestures for her to go into the bedroom. As soon as she does, he slaps her across the face.

“You stupid bitch. Do you really think I would hurt my own son!?” he seethes

She whimpers, hand clutching her throbbing cheek, “No. Not on purpose. I just didn’t want an accident to- ”

“An accident?! I am careful with my son Natasha! I would never hurt him, I love him!”

“You tell me that too, yet it never stops you” she retorts, anger clear in her tone

He glares at her for a moment, before running a frustrated hand through his hair, “If you listened to me and looked at me with respect and love like you did her then maybe I wouldn’t hit you. But you don’t, so I have no choice. It’s the only way to keep you in line.”

She clenches her fists in anger. She's always known he knew about her feelings for you, otherwise he wouldn’t hate you so much or have rules for her not to be around you. But until now he's never actually confirmed it out loud, and honestly hearing it hurts her more than she thought it would. He took away her chance with you, her chance to be happy....how could anyone be so cruel.

She shakes her head, tears falling freely as a snarl builds on her lips, “I love her. I could have been happy with her- ”

“You should be happy with me!” he yells, pointing at her accusingly, “She was just there, just existing, but I did things for you! I pursued a career in science so I had a good job to provide for you and could relate to your mother! I bulked up and did work out routines to be more like your father! I put up with your annoying asshole of a little sister- ”

“Don’t talk about Yelena like that!” she yells, earning another slap to her face

“Don’t interrupt me!” He growls, “YA dazhe vyuchil russkiy dlya vas!(I even learned Russian for you!)”

“She would have done things for me too!” she retorts, “Things I actually wanted!”

He snarls, “Shut up! You're such an ungrateful mutt! I’ve given you a home, a pup! You should love me after all I’ve done for you!”

“You didn’t do anything for me! You did everything for you!” she yells, nearly getting in his face, “ I never wanted your house or your pups! I never wanted you! I hate you!!”

He roughly grabs her by the back of her neck, forcing her to her knees in a submissive position. The pain causes her to whine but she manages to turn it into a growl to show her defiance and contempt for him.

"I've had enough of your attitude Omega! You need to remember your place!" He growls, "I'm your Alpha- "

"You're not my Alpha!" She replies with a glare as hard as steel

He growls again, "I am! You'll never have Y/n! She's a sorry excuse for an Alpha anyway!"

"She's twice the Alpha you are!" She spits back, realizing her mistake far too late

His eyes flash dangerously as he looks down at her and the next thing she knows, she's being pulled to a standing position by her hair. She whines, hands grasping and clawing at his arm to get him to release her. And he does, only to punch her right in the face.

She falls backwards, landing on her ass as her arms guard her face in case he aims to hit her again. She can feel her cheek throbbing. It had already swelled thanks to his two slaps, but now she knows it’ll bruise. She worries he’ll expect her to remain here by his side until it fully heals so he doesn't have to explain himself to anyone or risk her telling you what he had done.

“Get up.” he orders

She ignores him, not even looking at him as he looms above her. She's so tired of this. The arguing, the hitting and the immense sadness she feels. She's had to deal with it for nearly two years and it's killing her. She just wants you, she wishes you could just swoop in and take her away from here.

“I said get up, Omega!” he roars, pulling her up by her hair once more causing her to yell out in pain.

He shoves her onto the bed and she whimpers as he grabs her by the back of the neck again, pushing her body down into the mattress. He carefully brushes the hair from her face, ignoring her tears as he continues to move his hand farther down until it comes to rest on the swell of her ass. She whines and wiggles her body in an attempt to get away from his touch.

“Maybe putting another pup in you would mellow you out, hm?” he asks as he squeezes her ass, “I’d love to fill you up again. I bet breeding you again would make you a good, obedient Omega for me.”

“No!” she cries out, thrashing in his hold, “I’m sorry! I'm sorry I didn't behave! Please don't!"

He sighs in frustration. He's getting tired of her still refusing his advances. By now she should have just given into him, fully becoming his like she was meant to be and marking him as her own. But she hasn’t. She still begs him to stop touching her instead of begging to be fucked and she refuses to have her face even be remotely near his scent gland. And this angers him.

“You're my Omega, Natasha. Mine.” he growls, right into her ear as he presses her face deeper into the mattress, “If I want another pup, then you’ll give me another pup.”

“Please don’t! Please!” she begs through her sobs, “I’m sorry! I’ll behave, I promise! Please Bruce, please don’t!”

“You're so pathetic.” he scoffs, finally letting her go

She sits up and scoots as far away from him as possible while remaining on the bed. He stands there a moment, watching her as she avoids his gaze and shakes with silent sobs. He can’t stand it when she acts like this. Acts like she would rather be anywhere else than here, with him.

“I can’t even look at you right now. I’m going back to the office to finish up a few things. I expect dinner to be ready for me by the time I get home. And afterwards, you're going to walk in here and undress. You're going to get on our bed and make yourself look nice and pretty for me on your hands and knees. If you don’t claim me when you take my knot, you won’t see Wanda ever again. Am I understood, Omega?”

Nausea overcomes her as his words sink in but she nods, not daring to upset him further, “Y-yes. I understand. I’ll…I’ll have everything ready.”

“Good.” he replies before heading out of the bedroom.

She stays where she is until she hears the front door slam and lock. She heads right for Dimas room, checking to make sure her beloved pup is safe. When she hears Bruces car peel out of the driveway she scoops her boy up and quickly carries him to her room.

She sets him on the bed before going to her closet. She pulls out two large duffle bags and a backpack. She fills them with everything important to her. Clothes, objects, money. Anything she knows she can’t leave behind to never be seen again. Once she has them packed she sets them by the front door before going back to her room and grabbing her son's diaper bag and another duffle bag.

She carries them and him back to his room and she begins to pack his things. Extra diapers, wipes, lotions and medicines go into the diaper bag as clothes, blankets, and toys go into the duffel. Once packed she sets them by the front door as well before heading back to his room to fold up his swing and grab his portable playpen. She sets them by the door as well as well as collecting his high chair from the kitchen. She then picks up the young pup and his diaper bag, quickly grabbing her car keys before heading out to her car in the garage.

She takes care to strap him into his carseat and places his diaper bag on the floor in front of him before she rushes back inside for more bags. She places his duffel and her backpack in the backseat next to her pup, before placing her own duffel bags the highchair, playpen and swing in the trunk.

Once everything is in the car she double checks that she has her phone and its charger. Satisfied that she has everything she needs she hops behind the wheel, opens the garage door and pulls out of the driveway. She takes a deep breath to calm herself and she begins to drive in the only direction her panicking mind can think of at the moment. If anyone could help her right now, she knew it would be Yelena.

Taglist: @wandaromamoff69 @mmmmokdok @nataliasknife @natashasilverfox @when-wolves-howl @wandanatvoid @naomi-m3ndez @eonrioromanova @sayah13 @likefirenrain @nighttime-dreaming @readings-stuff @chaoticevilbakugo @crystalstark02 @wackymcstupid @xchaiix @iaminluvwithnat @lovelyy-moonlight @blackwidow-3 @naslt

#natasha x y/n #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #marvel #fanfic #marvel fanfiction #a/b/o dynamics #a/b/o universe #a/b/o fanfic #a/b/o #omega!natasha romanoff

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hongism · 3 years ago

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WHITE CHRISTMAS : J.WOOYOUNG 18+

» j.wooyoung x fem!reader » fluff, slight angst, smut, 18+ dni if minor » language, explicit smut, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding/impregnation kink, fingering, marking, body worship, praise, begging, dirty (absolutely filthy) talk, petnames used (angel, baby, darling), wet dreams, pseudo-handjob?, slight humiliation kink if you squint, grinding/dry humping, masturbation, edging, p*ssy slapping (he does it exactly three times), multiple orgasms, dacryphilia, messy sex, oh they’re painfully in love and painfully unaware of it » part of the 12 days of christmas collab with @uhmingi and @choijjongho!! » wc 11.0k (._.) » summary - in a week of babysitting two children together just before christmas, you think love might have slipped its way in, among other things.

“have you thought at all about what you might want to do for christmas?” you ask, stepping over the threshold of the door to greet your friend inside. said man reaches up to scratch the back of his neck upon hearing your question — a telltale sign that he completely forgot about the matter — and the sheepish grin wooyoung flashes right after only confirms those suspicions. “woo! this is the fourth time i’ve reminded you!”

“i know, i know!” he protests, dodging your poorly aimed swipe at his shoulder. a huff passes through your lips, and all you can do is shake your head back at him before stepping fully into his neatly decorated home. “in my defense, i’ve been busy with babysitting these days. hongjoong and seonghwa aren’t supposed to be back for another four days, and the youngest is a fucking menace.”

as though on cue, a shrill screech echoes through the entryway. the sound of loud thumping footsteps quickly follows, then a thud and oof of air escaping the small child. it only takes three seconds for the crying to start. maybe you will have a little mercy on your best friend after all. that scream-cry hybrid is far from charming and you can feel an impending headache just from standing in the hall.

“haseul! i told you not to run in the house without shoes on! socks are slippery!” wooyoung turns to rush for the crying child, mirroring your sympathetic and strained grin with a sigh of his own.

you don’t bother watching him attempt to soothe the child; instead, you slip your shoes off beside the door and step further into the house. your goal is to make it to the kitchen without any interruptions, intent on snitching a few snacks out of wooyoung’s well-stocked fridge while he’s distracted because that’s just part of best friend privileges. that’s your intent, but the second you reach the archway into said room, another miniature demon appears out of nowhere to scare the living daylights out of you. the elder of seonghwa and hongjoong’s two menaces, the one who takes after hongjoong so much so that it’s mildly terrifying. now, the eight-year-old stands before you and blocks your way into the kitchen just to stare at you.

“haha, h-hi – hi there, eunjoo,” you stutter out through a thin-lipped smile.

“hong daddy said not to talk to strangers,” she echoes back.

“we’ve known each other for five years, eunjoo!”

“hong daddy said you’re a stranger.”

“oh my god, of course he did,” you scoff under your breath. the girl before you must catch that because she narrows her glare a little but you pay her no mind and simply try to slip around her to get into the kitchen. she lets you past without issue, although you almost feel an impending sense of doom looming behind you as she follows you.

“this isn’t your house. this is uncle woo’s house. why are you always in his house?”

“we’re best friends, eunjoo! just like you and haseul are!”

“haseul isn’t my friend. she’s my sister. i’m forced to be nice to her because hwa daddy said so.”

“hah, you kids… say the darndest things sometimes,” you grit out. you’re fairly certain that if hongjoong told her to, she could possibly break your arm and push you down the stairs, which is quite a terrifying thing to imagine. maybe it’s time to get hongjoong one of those new coffee makers he likes for his home studio… just to appease him and hold off his little demon a bit longer. “anyway, uncle woo and i are best friends. that’s why i always come over.”

“does he go to your house too? do you have a house?”

“i — what does hongjoong tell you?!”

“okay, okay, i think i put haseul down. she’s sleeping at least. no more tears or screaming — oh, hi eunjoo. i didn’t know you were in here.” wooyoung stops dead in his tracks when the little girl reels on him. she simply breaks into a wide smile and giggles like a maniac upon seeing him, rushing forward to wrap her arms around his legs.

“uncle woo! can i watch toothless again? i miss hwa daddy, and he told me to watch it when i miss him!” bright eyes blink up at wooyoung, and unlike you, he seems weak to the stare because he huffs out a tired sigh and wipes a hand down his face.

“yes, yes, eunjoo, go ahead. you know where the tv is.”

eunjoo skips off with a laugh of success, nearly tripping over the lip in the threshold as she passes into the living room. you’re fairly certain wooyoung’s life flashes before his eyes when she stumbles. the color doesn’t return to his face until she’s safely escaped the kitchen and settled on the couch.

“hongjoong and seonghwa owe me extra for this, i swear to god.”

“she interrogated me! asked if i even have a house! she’s been in my house, woo!”

wooyoung stifles a laugh at that, only adding to your current offense. the urge to hit him returns, but you push it down by crossing your arms over your chest. as seonghwa would say, “hitting people in the presence of my children is a bad example”, and honestly an angry seonghwa is far more terrifying than a passive-aggressive hongjoong. (wooyoung still brings up the time when seonghwa grabbed him in a chokehold until he passed out for trying to cheat in mario kart).

“i think i offended hongjoong in a past life or something and his daughter is a poltergeist sent to torture me.”

“i think we watched too much x files at the last sleepover,” wooyoung counters, stepping forward to slip onto one of the bar stools. you settle down next to him with no snack in hand despite your earlier intention to steal some of his food. the silence that drapes over the two of you is nothing uncomfortable — with eunjoo’s movie settling in as background noise alongside the low rumble of the freezer, you two simply bask in each other’s presence while the silence lasts because wooyoung seems to need that peace of mind while it lasts. at least while haseul and eunjoo are distracted and settled.

“alright, what’s the real reason you called me over?” you ask after a few minutes have passed and wooyoung pulls himself together some.

“please save me from these children, y/n, i can’t do it alone.”

“oh, you trickster!”

“they’re evil, y/n, you can’t leave me alone in this house with them!” he hisses back, quiet enough to keep eunjoo from overhearing.

“you tricked me into coming over then trapped me here with you. to take care of children! is that any way to treat your best friend?”

“please, i asked yeosang but seonghwa has some unnatural ability to overhear my phone calls and he called to say that yeosang can’t watch them with me because he’s ‘incapable of using a shower without breaking it and thus cannot watch over children’.”

“did he break another shower?” you interrupt, effectively cutting wooyoung’s train of thought short.

“what? no, that’s beside the point, y/n. i’m asking for a favor! just a few days of helping me out! it’s barely a week, and you’ve got spare clothes and stuff here from our sleepover nights.”

“children, wooyoung. do i look like i know how to take care of children? there’s a reason why i’m not on hongjoong and seonghwa’s list for babysitting duties!”

“they trust you as much as they trust me, and you know that’s a fact,” wooyoung retorts. he pulls himself up to sit straight on his stool. the pleading gleam in his eyes is almost enough to break you. “please? as a christmas gift?”

only jung motherfucking wooyoung would go for such a low blow.

“you’re playing dirty, wooyoung.” you lift a finger and point it directly at his face. it’s the nail in the coffin though, and you can’t say no to that even if you really tried. “fine, but if one of them vomits on me, then that’s it.”

“have i ever told you how much i love you?” wooyoung clasps his hands together over his chest, smile splitting his face practically in two, and you can’t deny how much you adore seeing that smile grace his lips.

“not enough times.”

“i’ll say it every damn day this week for you, i promise.” wooyoung reaches out and clasps a hand over your forearm. “i can wake you up with kisses and everything for the full effect.”

“let’s not go that far, i don’t know where your lips have been.”

↢ ♡ ↣

in theory, moving into wooyoung’s home for a week to help babysit is a very good idea. the two of you have a solid friendship and you’re used to spending the night at each other’s houses when doing the bare minimum. so to take care of kids while spending time together should really be no different than your usually scheduled hangouts.

the thing you did not take into consideration was how much fucking work kids are. you have been at wooyoung’s for a grand total of seven hours and you already want to put your head through a wall. haseul cried for an hour when she woke up because she didn’t want the oatmeal that wooyoung made for her, then she cried an hour later because she left her teddy bear back at home. thus, wooyoung did the smart thing and make a quick drive to go get it, but in turn he left you with the two demon children. and in the forty-five minutes he was away, haseul managed to spill a cup of yogurt down the front of the dishwasher, eunjoo stubbed her toe on a door frame, and you nearly put tin foil in the microwave because you were so distracted by the chaos around you.

“it could have been worse,” wooyoung mutters as he crashes down beside you on the couch.

“worse?” you hiss, trying not to disturb the child who is now sleeping against your chest. haseul mumbles something in her sleep, then tucks her face further into your neck without waking up. you count that as a win. “where’s eunjoo?”

“um… i thought she was with you?”

“how did you lose an entire eight-year-old?”

“i was cooking dinner! shit, i bet she snuck in the kitchen to steal a nugget.” just as quick as he sat down, wooyoung is back on his feet a moment later, bolting around the couch to dash back into the kitchen without another word. if he wants to call boxed mac and cheese with a side of dinosaur chicken nuggets ‘cooking’, you’ll let him believe it if it means happy (and quiet) children.

you heave a deep sigh to prepare yourself for the inevitable chaos before pushing up to your feet and following wooyoung’s path into the kitchen. haseul latches her little legs further around your hips to keep steady as you move. you simply let her for the time being because it means no tears, and no tears means no sobbing.

as wooyoung predicted, eunjoo is stood in the kitchen, now at the man’s side by the stove.

“you two look like a married couple,” she states, far too loudly for your liking.

“excuse — eunjoo, your sister is still napping! please keep it down,” you hiss back under your breath. you go so far as to cover one of haseul’s ears in the hopes that it will keep her from waking up.

“married, huh?” wooyoung snorts over the pot of mac and cheese, then throws his head back in a silent laugh. “i guess you could say that.”

“where’s my ring then, jung wooyoung?” you huff in response.

“hm, maybe i’m just looking or the perfect one. you ever think of that?”

“taking your sweet time with it then!” you say over your shoulder, heading over to the dining table once you see wooyoung pull his pot off the stove.

“watch out, sweetie, pot’s really hot, yeah?”

“uncle woo, when did you two get married? i don’t remember ever going to a wedding with daddy.”

eunjoo is nothing if not persistent when she gets her mind set on something. you set haseul down in one of the chairs — the one with the booster seat of course — then comb her hair back out of her face as her eyes peel open.

“it’s dinner time, haseul. are you hungry?” a hopeful smile plasters itself across your lips, one that silently begs for no post-naptime tears. wide eyes blink from you to the table then over to the kitchen where wooyoung and eunjoo are. her lower lip wobbles ever so slightly. “uncle woo made mac and cheese!” you blurt in a desperate attempt to keep the tears from falling.

wooyoung — ever the savior — comes in at that moment with a plate full of food to set on the table, along with the steaming pot of mac and cheese in the other hand.

“that i did! and dino nuggets! hong daddy said those are your favorite, seulie, are you hungry?” he announces, setting the plate down at the center of the table. you stand up with a sigh.

“here, give me the pot, i’ll serve some bowls in the kitchen.”

“it’s hot, i’ll take care of it.”

“at least let me do something!”

“can’t i take care of you too?”

you pause where you are, halfway to the kitchen where all the silverware and dishes are with wooyoung at your back and a steaming pot of mac and cheese between your bodies. you aren’t sure why but something about that simple question along with the whine to his tone makes your heart clench tight in your chest.

“hwa daddy says that cooking is a love language!” eunjoo pronounces from beside her sister at the dinner table. wooyoung’s eyes remain on you, lingering and pleading with a touch of pink dusting the balls of his cheeks.

with a defeated nod, you step to the side to let wooyoung move past you and go further into the kitchen before you yourself go sit back down with the children. when you settle back in the hardwood chair, you take a moment to look over the counter to where wooyoung is now pulling out bowls and a spatula.

love isn’t a foreign concept to you and wooyoung. you can’t count on two hands the number of times you two have shared little platonic love confessions that border on perhaps being something more than that, but neither of you have acted on anything either. there’s a mutual understanding of some sort, one that no one has ever labelled or tried to label, and through it all you know that wooyoung loves you. it’s just a matter of deciphering what kind of love that specifically is. you don’t particularly feel a pull to do that yourself, nor has wooyoung made any sort of attempt to do the same either, so it’s safe to assume that he is as comfortable as you are with the way things currently are.

in rare moments like these, you find yourself really wondering where the line of friendship ends, and how far you are stepping into lesser-known waters that don’t feel as safe or familiar.

“mhm, there are lots of love languages, eunjoo!” wooyoung says as he scoops food into the bowls. it effectively breaks the terse silence that you weren’t paying all too much attention to. “mine is making sure people are taken care of. acts of service. that’s the kind i like giving out. it can be different for everyone, but most people like giving a certain love language and receiving another.”

“what does that mean?” eunjoo asks, wide and innocent eyes round as saucers as she strains to look over to where wooyoung stands.

“hm, it means — ah, help me out, y/n?”

“it means that people have different ways of feeling love versus making sure other people feel their love. like wooyoung said, for him, he makes sure people feel his love when he is taking care of them.”

“then how do you make him feel loved, auntie?”

“quality time.”

the words don’t come from you, and you hardly register how quick wooyoung is to speak.

“all she has to do is spend time with me to make me feel loved.” wooyoung glances over at you, pot still in hand with the spatula threatening to drip mac and cheese all over the counter, but he simply smiles at you from where he stands. it’s a fond grin, one that’s full of warmth and affection as always even if his teeth aren’t showing.

the statement is twofold though; you’re smart enough to realize that much.

“please? as a christmas gift?”

frankly, when it comes to jung wooyoung, you might have been doomed from the start.

↢ ♡ ↣

“god, where did eunjoo go? did we lose her already?”

“i’m here, i’m here!”

you spin on your heel to see the child hobbling over on her skates, pushed up onto her toes as she approaches the rest of the group near the barricade. if it were up to you (which it isn’t, clearly), the four of you would still be at home trying to be calm and relaxed rather than doing something as dangerous as ice skating. if hongjoong knew, he’d surely skin both you and wooyoung alive.

“are you sure you can go off on your own? maybe you should stick with wooyoung instead,” you say, clinging to haseul’s hand a little tighter as wooyoung finishes securing her laces and straps. his response comes in a huff and a snort, sidling over to your feet next to do the same with your skates.

“you know i take classes, right auntie? and hwa daddy teaches me?”

“right, yes, well, not all of us can have fathers who are former figure skaters, eunjoo. thank you for reminding me!”

“you’re nervous,” wooyoung mutters. his fingers close around your ankle, pulling it closer to his body as he tightens the laces a bit more.

“i’m nervous that we are going to have to call hongjoong and seonghwa to inform them that we are going to the emergency room with one of their children!”

“i think you’re more nervous about falling yourself.”

you’re of half a mind to kick a foot out at wooyoung, but that would send the blade of your skate right into his crotch, and fortunately for him you aren’t keen on taking away his ability to have children of his own.

“uncle woo will hold your hand, auntie!” haseul says with a little tug of her own to your fingers. “he won’t let you fall!”

“exactly!” wooyoung grins up at you from between your legs. it’s hardly appropriate for your mind to go the direction it does when there are children flanking you on every side. the slight tilt of his chin to the side, then the pull of a smirk on one corner of his lips and a dangerous glint in his eye that screams ‘i am about to make you regret our friendship’. “all you have to do is ask.”

“i’d sooner want you to roleplay as santa, you oaf.” you huff and look away from wooyoung’s cocky expression to stare back out over the rink.

“hey, i heard yunho tried that once and fucking loved it, okay? don’t knock it until you try it.”

“we are not trying that!”

“bad word, uncle woo! hwa daddy said that’s a bad word!”

“sorry! when we get back, you both can tackle me and put me in time out!” wooyoung yelps as eunjoo comes up behind him to deliver a sharp slap to the back of his skull. she follows it up with a tug to his earlobe, right over the stack of helix piercings that he has there, and in that moment, you see that stark resemblance she shares with hongjoong. terrifying, but in a small package. “alright, alright, that’s enough, what would hwa say?”

“can i go out on the ice now?” eunjoo whines back, ignoring wooyoung’s words as the impatience wins over.

“yeah, go ahead, hun. remember to watch out for other people when you’re going in though!” wooyoung returns his focus to your skates, and you’re left to watch the child hobble over to the lip of the rink to make sure she doesn’t faceplant immediately. “there, and you are good to go as well, y/n.” wooyoung leans back with a content sigh and beams up at you. “ready to go?”

“no.”

“not with that attitude you’re not. up, up! let’s get going!” your friend hauls himself to his feet using you as leverage, large hands coming down on your thighs and gripping the flesh tight as he pushes up. you really really try not to think too hard about it — not the way his hands slot over your thighs with enough force to push them apart or the way he grunts as he does so, because you truly can’t be thinking about that right now. you blame the adrenaline pumping through your veins already and the slight anxiety about getting on the ice, because all your nerve endings are fried and fragile at this moment. “you don’t have to ask, by the way. i’ll keep you up, okay?”

“promise?” you murmur, extending your unoccupied hand towards the man when he stretches to his full height. he slots his palm over yours and slips his fingers between yours.

“promise.” he must see the last strands of trepidation in your features because next thing you know, he’s leaning down into your space where you’re seated on the wobbly bench and pressing his lips to your forehead, right underneath the thick headband you snatched from him earlier this morning. “are you really gonna let an eight-year-old show you up out there?”

“she’s been trained by a professional!”

wooyoung laughs, the kind of laugh that makes his head tip back and exposes the pretty line of his throat, and the sound echoes a little in your ears even after it stops ringing in the air.

somewhere, your mind has the reason to think ah, i’m so fucked before your friend is pulling you and haseul over to the edge of the rink with an embarrassingly loud shout of eunjoo’s name.

“excuse me, dear.”

you shift to look back over your shoulder when the voice reaches your ears, pausing your own hesitant tiptoes at the lip of the rink just before wooyoung can pull you in. he stops when you do and turns as well, no doubt in search of the reason why you’ve stopped so suddenly.

“yes sir?”

it’s an elderly man who stands before you now, one who thankfully doesn’t have any skates on or anything, but he reaches out with a mittened hand to touch your arm.

“i don’t mean to intrude, i just wanted to tell you that you have such adorable children, and a beautiful family.”

“oh, we’re not — we’re just—”

“heh, thank you, sir! she did all the heavy lifting though, if you know what i mean!”

“wooyou—”

“but i’m sure you know how modest women can be, sir.”

“i most certainly do, that’s very true. i hope you can stay together for a very long time. my first wife and i didn’t make it past the four-year mark, but i’ve been married to my second for almost sixty-five years now.”

“i already told her that she’s stuck with me for at least fifty, but i guess now we’ll have to make sixty-five the goal, yeah?” wooyoung casts a wink your way, then swings your joint hands into your hip, nearly knocking you off-balance completely. he’s quick to steady you with the same hand though, and his eyes linger on you the whole time despite speaking to the man beside you. his stare is expectant like he wants you to respond as well, and even though your heart is clenching a little too tight in your chest, you can’t bring yourself to ruin the lie now.

“you’re stuck with me well past then, darling. rest of your life, remember?”

wooyoung sinks his teeth into his lower lip — a poor attempt to bite back his far too elated grin.

“always and forever,” he says quietly like the words are only for your eyes and not for anyone else in the large room.

you don’t voice it out loud, but internally you echo the confession with one of your own, watching the twinkling christmas lights reflect off wooyoung’s irises as he bids the old man farewell and tugs you onto the ice with haseul in tow.

↢ ♡ ↣

days one, two, and three of babysitting the two devil children were simple enough — your horrific experience at the ice skating rink where you did end up falling a grand total of six times while wooyoung laughed at you aside — and they were all days spent wholly in wooyoung’s presence. including at night after you put the children to bed, when you curled up in wooyoung’s bed with him on the other side laid out on his stomach and already drooling into the sheets. you didn’t expect there to be any issues with the arrangement seeing as this is something you have done with wooyoung hundreds of times in the past, and sharing a bed is easier than sleeping on an uncomfortable couch.

day four reminds you that jung wooyoung is, in fact, a man and does, in fact, have a dick in the most unfortunate way.

aka you wake up with his boner pressed firmly into your asscrack as he spoons you and snores right into your ear. the thought of suffocating him with his own pillow is present, and that argument almost wins you over completely when he starts smacking his lips next to your ear as well.

“get your dick off my ass, woo,” you mumble, reaching around your bodies to smack the side of his hip as hard as you can manage with the covers in the way. it earns you no response though, so your next move is to scoot further away from him as best you can. it would work too if not for the way he’s clutching your waist like his life depends on it, fingers nearly digging into your skin. your attempts to pull out of his grasp serve further distress, because your luck is nothing less than dogshit, and wooyoung tugs you closer to his body. obnoxiously hard dick digs further into your ass, and you are praying to every god out there for some sort of mental strength as you fight to think about anything else.

not your best friend’s dick rubbing against your ass.

not the size of said dick.

and most certainly not the feeling of his dick pressing your panties into your skin so hard that it’s giving you a wedgie.

if you didn’t know better, you’d say that he’s actively trying to push the material further.

“fuck,” you exhale into the pillow. you squeeze your eyes shut as tight as possible, sending a silent prayer up to the heavens that this doesn’t escalate further past this.

but again, your luck? nonexistent, of course, so when wooyoung rolls his hips against your ass in a way that’s far too sexual in nature, you can’t really say you’re too surprised.

“wooyoung,” you whisper a little louder like you’re trying to wake him up for real, but you can’t force your voice to go any higher than that. he rocks up against you again, harder this time, and a startled moan slips from your lips as you can no longer ignore the imprint of his cock rolling over your body.

“y/n…”

sirens go off with alarming haste as your name tumbles from his lips in response, and you go completely still in his grasp, hand clasped over your quivering lips like it will cover the sound that already came out.

what follows next is a quiet exhale, then a breathy whine as wooyoung’s hips return to their irregular rhythm behind you.

“oh my god,” you hiss through your teeth, hand still over your mouth in sheer shock at the situation that’s unfolding out of your control.

there’s a split-second decision where you deeply consider this: the choice between letting wooyoung get off on you while he’s sleeping or waking him up to tell him to go take care of his issue in the bathroom. you can’t say you’re all too proud of your choice, and the excuse that you’re simply too hazy with sleep to have clear coherent thoughts feels lip a cop-out as well.

in reality, you’re perfectly coherent when you reach around your hip to push the palm of your hand between your ass and the imprint of wooyoung’s cock that is currently straining against the only fabric separating your bare skin from touching his, a cheap old pair of underwear that he wears to sleep with nothing else on his body. it’s an uncomfortable angle at best, with how your shoulder is twisting to adjust to the stretch, but you manage to settle enough to keep wooyoung from giving you a worse wedgie than he already has given you. wooyoung’s hips keep grinding up against the surface you’ve provided like it’s nothing different from your ass.

it would help if he didn’t rock into you with enough force to make your whole body move in rhythm with his, and no matter how hard you try to squeeze your thighs together to alleviate the pressure building on your clit, nothing works. a shameful whimper makes its way out of your mouth.

“y/n,” wooyoung exhales again, breath hot on your ear as he speaks, and you suck your lips between your teeth to bite back the sound that threatens to follow. “y/n, y/n, f-fuck, you feel so good.” this night and this man combined are going to cost you all sorts of sanity, but it might already be a lost cause given how you shift the hand over your mouth lower, dipping past your shirt and slipping under the band of your underwear as wooyoung fucks the palm of your hand in a crude mimicry of the real thing. all you have to do is press the pad of your middle finger over your clit to get the stimulation you crave so desperately; the rhythm of wooyoung’s thrusts offer enough momentum to knock your finger over your most sensitive part like he’s fucking you for real, although you desperately try to not think too deeply about that even with the man moaning your own name down your neck all the while.

your arousal is humiliating enough, but to get off in such a simple and debase way is almost more embarrassing. wooyoung’s hand squeezes tighter at your stomach, latching onto your form however he can as he grinds down into your palm harder than before. the hitch in his breathy whines hints at how close he is to cumming, and there’s a pleasant thrill of warmth in your limbs that indicates you aren’t far behind. you tuck your chin to your chest as the high hits, a rush of pleasure that shakes you to your core that continues to roll over you as wooyoung pushes himself to his own orgasm. he cums quietly alongside you and pants into your neck without a care in the world. for a moment, there’s a startling realization that he’s breathing far too hard to still be asleep, but you don’t say anything out of fear — fear of ruining this stagnant moment of adrenaline and lust — so when his hips settle and his cock stops twitching against the palm of your hand, you slip back into your previous resting position with that same hand laid flat on the bed.

the thought of what the fuck just happened keeps you awake for several hours after, though.

you always knew that you loved wooyoung, that was never a question in your mind.

the matter of how much you want him is a new and daunting dilemma.

↢ ♡ ↣

when morning finally comes, a blessed and wonderful reprieve from the night before, you blink your eyes open to welcome the bits of morning sun creeping through the curtains. along with a marginally more horrifying sight of a small body silhouetted against those same curtains right next to the bed.

“jesus christ!”

wooyoung startles awake as you jolt further into his chest, and the haphazard movement also has your elbow careening into his cheekbone.

“ow, what the fuck!”

“i want waffles.”

“eunjoo—” you start, only to be cut short by a loud yawn coming from wooyoung’s side of the bed. his arm comes back to your waist under the covers, then you feel his nose pressing into your neck.

“we can get waffles tomorrow, joo,” he mumbles. the vibrations of his low, gravelly morning tone against your heated skin have you shivering under his touch, and the hand that is stretching across the bare skin of your stomach isn’t helping in the slightest. “let mommy and daddy rest a bit longer.”

your blood runs cold in your veins at those words. it’s a slip of the tongue surely and wooyoung can’t have possibly meant it any other way aside from teasing or joking, especially since eunjoo is not your child.

“my daddies would take me to get waffles!” eunjoo protests, little arms coming up to fold over her chest.

“sorry, sorry, auntie and uncle, baby, let auntie and uncle woo rest a bit longer,” wooyoung continues though the words are hard to decipher thanks to the slur to his tone.

“hmph, fine! i’m gonna rewatch toothless again while i’m waiting though!”

“alright, honey, go ahead.”

you watch the girl race out of the room with a giggle leaving her lips, and you think for a moment that your heart is running the same race given how quickly it’s beating inside your chest. and part of you wonders whether wooyoung can feel your pulse with how his face is pressed into your neck, but he says nothing of it so you imagine you’re safe for now.

“mommy and daddy?” you echo minutes after eunjoo has left the room. wooyoung is so quiet that you think he’s fallen back asleep on top of you.

“shut up,” he says at last, following the words up with a huffed sigh into your clavicle. “woke up thinkin’ my dream was real.”

“you dry hump my ass in the middle of the night then dream about us having kids?”

you are so tempted to ask that question out loud but you aren’t even one hundred percent sure that wooyoung remembers you doing that last night, and if he does, then he’s certainly doing a good job at pretending like he doesn’t. he can surely feel the dried cum in his underwear regardless.

“we should take them to waffle house.”

“should we?” wooyoung sighs. he finally moves though, pushing up on his elbow, and you roll onto your back to get a better look at him. the few rays of sun peeking through the curtains hit his tanned, golden skin. you stare perhaps a little too long at him — from the messy bedhead to the pretty mole under his eye to the one on the side of his lip — and you don’t think twice before bringing a hand to his face, thumb tracing over his lower lip and caressing that spot with so much fondness that it’s hard to say anything is just platonic with wooyoung.

you catch yourself moments later, but the impact of it is already hanging heavy in the air as wooyoung’s lips are parted with an expression of slight wonder. you pull your hand back, clearing your throat to disrupt the tension you’ve created, and wooyoung snaps his jaw shut so quickly that you can hear the click of his teeth knocking into each other.

“we should, yeah. hongjoong and seonghwa are supposed to come back tomorrow.”

“right. yeah.”

there’s an unspoken statement there — that although neither of you need a reason to be in each other’s presence like this, you won’t have much of an excuse after tomorrow when the kids’ parents come to pick them up.

merry fucking christmas.

on the bright side, both children are pleasantly on their absolute best behavior as soon as waffle house is mentioned, so herding them into wooyoung’s car after quick showers is easier than ever. if either of them notices that you and wooyoung aren’t being as cheery as usual, they don’t say anything, too enamored with the idea of waffles to pinpoint the source of the unhappy rain clouds over your heads. it’s almost amusing how that unhappiness only dissipates when the waitress comments on how cute “your kids” are.

“ah, they aren’t ours,” you correct, too tired to let the lie linger like it did the other day with that man at the skating rink. “we’re just babysitting for some friends.”

wooyoung’s arm wraps around your shoulders, and he doesn’t stop until he’s got your bicep clenched between his fingers.

“my wife here isn’t quite ready for kids,” he says through a broad smile. it delights haseul at least, who squeals and giggles at the display without knowing it’s for show. the waitress, as well, grins back and claps her hand against the pot of coffee in her other hand.

“you’ll be ready before you know it.”

and with that, she leaves your table after filling wooyoung’s mug once more. the childish banter resumes between eunjoo and haseul. you go back to picking apart your waffles with little enthusiasm.

wooyoung keeps his hand firmly in place, clinging to your arm like he’s afraid you’ll leave if he lets go. you desperately want to tell him that you won’t do that, you won’t ever leave if he doesn’t want you to, and you don’t have to leave tomorrow even if the kids do.

↢ ♡ ↣

the morning of what you’ve deemed to be your day of reckoning, it’s not wooyoung or a child who wakes you up, but instead the sharp and shrill ring of wooyoung’s phone on the bedside table.

you bury your face further into the pillow in an attempt to drown the noise out as the familiar warmth of wooyoung’s arm around your waist disappears. he groans and whines, slinging a string of curses into the air under his breath, but rolls over to grab the phone from its place anyway.

“fuck, it’s joong. y/n, can you answer? i don’t wanna hear his voice this early.”

you let out a huff only to flip onto your back and snatch the phone from wooyoung’s grasp with a drowsy side-eye that he promptly ignores in favor of burying his face into your stomach.

“good morning,” you mumble. a rush of shivers trails down your spine as wooyoung clings to your waist, large hands wrapping tight around your body. hot breath seeps through the fabric of your shirt to touch your skin.

“y/n? you’re not — why the fuck are you answering wooyoung’s phone?”

“geez, good morning to you too, joong.”

“are you two fucking in the same house as our children?!”

“hongjoong, oh my god!” you’re thinking the same words, but it’s actually seonghwa’s tone that brings them to life, somewhere in the background on hongjoong’s side of things.

“we’re not, but thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“ignore him!” seonghwa’s voice comes louder this time, and you hear a small fuss resound as the pair begin to bicker. your free hand moves down to comb through wooyoung’s messy hair without much thought, pressing it out of his line of sight only to find that he has his eyes shut again already. “hi, y/n, i’m glad to know that our kids are in safe hands.”

“hi, seonghwa. everyone is all in one piece, don’t worry.”

“really really relieved to hear that. and hongjoong is too, despite him acting otherwise.”

wooyoung must not be as asleep as you thought because he cracks a smile at that comment, lips twisting against your shirt.

“anywho, we’re on our way back right now. flight leaves in fifteen minutes — fifteen, kim hongjoong, so hurry up and pee beforehand — we should be back early afternoon. i’ll text as soon as we land, then when we leave the airport.”

“okay, sounds good. kids are still asleep for now. woo is about to get up and make them breakfast though.” wooyoung cracks one eye open to glare in your general vicinity but makes absolutely no effort to shift from his current position. “have a safe flight!”

“we will if i can get my husband on the plane in time. i swear to god, if you make us miss another flight, i’m filing for divorce!”

hongjoong says something in response to that, but it’s too muffled and quiet for you to hear, and the line goes dead seconds later so you don’t worry too much about it. instead, you toss the phone back to the bed and settle back against your pillow with eyes trained on the ceiling fan above your head.

“good morning,” wooyoung says after a few moments of silence.

“good morning,” you whisper back, glancing down at his face to find his gaze already on you. “can i help you?”

he smiles again but only one side of his face moves as the other half is still firmly squished against your body.

“don’t mind me. just enjoying the view.”

“cheeky.” you roll your head to the side to stare at the window. apparently, that’s not all wooyoung wants from you though — just a moment of your attention isn’t nearly enough for him because he exhales loudly and pushes himself up enough to press up into your personal space even more than before.

“don’t you know what you’re doing to me?” he asks, voice quiet in a way that sounds fragile and delicate. it’s not a tone you’ve heard from him before, and it’s far too serious for you to brush it off as another cheeky comment meant to tease you. “what am i supposed to do, y/n?”

“what?”

“what am i supposed to do — seeing you in my bed every morning, waking up with you in my arms, spending almost all of our time together for five days straight, with children who aren’t ours, i know that. i know they aren’t our kids but fuck, it sure felt like it this past week, didn’t it?” wooyoung sits back on his heels, extending the space between your bodies in favor of running a hand through his hair. “how am i supposed to just go back to normal like we didn’t play husband and wife?”

“woo…”

“we always play, don’t we? like a couple, like we’re together because being best friends isn’t enough to label what we really are. and i always thought that was fine and okay, that i wouldn’t need anything more than that because you didn’t. but how am i supposed to go back to that cat and mouse game after having you like this?” wooyoung motions between your bodies like it’ll do any good explaining what he really means, but you think you have a decent enough understanding. he looks more frustrated than anything else in this moment, and that’s an expression that lasts even as he slides off the mattress and grabs his clothes from the dresser. “i guess what i’m saying is… i don’t feel like playing anymore, y/n. if that’s what you want, then okay. i get it, and i’ll get over it. i’m fine with being your best friend, but i hope you know that’s not all i want. and i hope you know that calling you that isn’t nearly enough to describe what i feel for you.”

“what is it you want then?” you inquire, eyes watching the muscles in his back as he walks to the bathroom. he pauses to look over at where you’re still planted on the bed.

“i was dead serious about getting you that ring, y/n. at this point, i don’t think there’s anyone else for me out there except for you.”

his words ring in your ears long after the door to the bathroom falls shut behind him.

it’s a concept that you’ve discussed in passing, mostly as jokes and mostly when you’re both drunk off your asses and alone. “what if we got married?” because who else would you marry if not jung wooyoung? in the years that you’ve known him, it’s always been him in the back of your mind, the concept of a soulmate so overdone and faint that you refuse to label it as such, but sometimes — sometimes when you hear his bright laugh that never fails to make your heart clench in your chest, you really wonder how far out the idea of soulmates is. and if it’s not that, then it’s simply love, pure and unadulterated love that you never want to lose but are too afraid to ruin.

just saying “i love you” has never been enough to encapsulate the full range of your feelings for jung wooyoung though, and you’ve always known that he felt the same way. it’s the idea of changing something that’s so fundamentally ingrained in your beings that’s startling, and a horrid anticipation of fear boils in your gut every time you consider it. sure you can picture this future with wooyoung, one where you’re married, you’re his wife and he’s your husband, and you’re together with that materialistic label for other people to gawk at, but the hints of doubt that scream “what if this is the straw that breaks the camel’s back!” are all too present.

for now, you pull yourself out of bed and trudge downstairs with a new weight on your shoulders that you can’t shake easily.

↢ ♡ ↣

“bye haseul, bye eunjoo! have a safe drive home!”

“you too!” a slap resounds.

“you too!? are you an idiot now, kim hongjoong!?”

“daddy, no hitting!”

“should’ve left you in osaka by yourself — shh, shh, no haseul, honey, it’s okay, daddy isn’t really mad, okay? hwa daddy loves hong daddy very much, yes. i would never leave him anywhere, pinky promise.”

wooyoung snaps the door shut behind the family, eyes wide but a clear grin stretching his lips that threatens to turn into laughter.

“yeah, sounds like they had a nice, relaxing vacation together,” he says as seonghwa’s voice fades into nothing through the door.

“maybe they should consider a vacation from each other next time.”

wooyoung snorts at your comment, not bothering to mask the sound any longer now that seonghwa and hongjoong are out of sight and out of mind. the silence that follows is empty, emptier than any that you’ve had in the past five days, and it lets reality sink in without fail this time.

“did you need a ride back to your place or…?”

“my car is in the driveway, remember?” you offer weakly, only halfway unable to look up at him.

“o-oh, yeah it is, um, forgot.” wooyoung presses his lips into a thin line. “need me to walk you out?”

you shake your head without saying a word.

“cool, then i guess i’ll see you at the christmas party friday? you gonna be there?”

“wooyoung,” you say, not intending to sound so exasperated but it comes out that way regardless. “you can kiss me, you know. on the lips? i’ve kinda been waiting the better part of four years for you to finally grow a pair and do it properly.”

“i — hey, you’re no better! could’ve kissed me at any point in time and i wouldn’t have complained!”

“and i would have, i really would have, woo, i promise, i just—”

“didn’t wanna ruin what was already there?”

“took the words right out of my mouth.”

“only one person knows you better than you know yourself,” he murmurs, and again the fondness creeps into his tone without any filter.

“yeah, kim hongjoong. he knows me exceptionally well, it’s almost terrifying!”

“hey!? you were supposed to say my name, what the hell is up with that?” wooyoung lunges forward as you giggle, and your attempts to duck out of his grasp are completely fruitless once he gets his hands around your waist.

“do you love me?” you ask rather than answering his question, twisting around in his arms so that you can lay your palms flat against his chest. his expression switches to shocked in a split second, but once your inquiry processes, his face softens again. there’s a sheen to his eyes that looks fairly similar to tears when he leans forward and knocks his forehead against yours.

“always and forever.”

“and do you know how long i’ll love you in return?”

“shut up,” wooyoung mumbles, blinking furiously as you move your hands up to cradle his face.

“do you know?”

“always and forever,” he whispers against your lips, and you smile into the contact.

“you don’t have to be gentle. i won’t break.”

it’s permission in its purest form, both for what you’re hoping this leads to right in this very moment and also the future you want him to hold in his hands.

“don’t say things like that, y/n, i can’t help myself if you do,” wooyoung whines. he presses his nose further into your cheek, smile splitting his face as he lays a series of kisses to the corner of your mouth. “don’t worry, i’ll take care of you, wife.”

“counting on it,” you sigh. he doesn’t make a show out of it at all; just hooks his hands around the backs of your thighs and hoists you up on his waist. you could complain about the way he’s taking you to that dingy old couch rather than his bedroom, but for now the couch feels right. good enough because where he takes you isn’t all that important when you’ve got the unspoken promise that this will happen again and again and again, probably on every surface of his house as well as yours.

“never wanted to fuck you more than i do right now, fuck.” the admission comes out through gritted teeth as wooyoung drops you to the couch cushions without preamble, and a silly little thrill is rushing through you when he moves to slot his body overtop yours.

“kiss me please?”

his answer comes in the form of that — a sweet, chaste kiss that’s just lips at first, one that’s long overdue in its meaning, but it doesn’t linger like that for long once wooyoung’s tongue starts prodding at the seam of your mouth. you grant him access as your hands are moving for his shirt, fingers colliding with his as you both move to do the same thing. you only part for mere seconds, enough to get his shirt off then yours, and he rids you of your bra in a grand total of three seconds before he’s moving for your sweatpants and underwear right after. there’s a rush to your movements that almost makes the whole act seem like a maddened craze of eroticism, but the fervor with which wooyoung keeps kissing you brings you back to the intimacy and adoration behind it all.

“wanna worship you, every inch of you, want you so fucking bad.” wooyoung pants against the front of your neck, teeth raking red streaks over the skin. he sits back on his heels to take you better and encircles your torso with his arms only to bring you onto his lap for better access to your chest. “y/n, my darling, my angel, my love, god, i love you.”

wooyoung pauses his verbal adoration to lay his lips across the freshly exposed skin before him, and it’s only so that he can suck skin between his teeth until it blossoms with reds and purples.

“i love you, wooyoung, so much.” you grip his head tight in your hands, fingers almost digging into his scalp as you thread them through his hair. when his hands begin to wander, your back arches into him, and an airy gasp falls from your lips. “want you to have me, want to be yours in every way, please make me yours, woo.”

“how do you want me, angel? i’m yours, use me however you like.”

“i want you inside, woo, i want you inside me.”

wooyoung exhales a laugh against your body and traces the heated skin with his lips.

“anything for you, anything and everything.” he presses you back to the couch, laying you out and kneeling between your legs with so much reverence that it almost feels a sin to see him look at you in such a way. then he’s moving to stand, dropping his pants and underwear in the same moment, and finally letting you see the full glory of his length.

“no protection, please?” you know you won’t have to argue that much with him on this, seeing as you are already privy to one of his fantasies thanks to a wet dream, but it still feels heady to voice that desire and see how his eyes darken as his pupils dilate. he clambers back onto the couch and slots himself back between your legs. the way his hands fumble to grip your legs would be amusing if not for the rush of arousal it pumps into you.

“be a good girl and keep your legs spread so i can breed you properly then.”

you’re on the precipice of absolute desperation, almost to the point where you are prepared to beg him to fuck his dick into you with no preparation, but you aren’t stupid, not wholly in the very least, and taking someone his size would be asking for a trip to the emergency room at worst.

your head tips back into the armrest when he trails two fingers through your folds, teasing your slit while hiking one of your legs up onto his shoulder. he’s got you almost bent in half already, another little taunt of what’s to come when he finally fucks you open on his cock, and just the visual of the angle has your walls squeezing around nothing.

“so good and ready for me already, you’re made for me,” he murmurs with lips on the inside of your knee. you whine, voice hitching when those two fingers slip into your needy hole and push your walls open in preparation for something much bigger. “wanna make a mess of you, my angel. ruin you, see you cry on my cock, god i want you in every way imaginable.” he takes his other hand to reach for yours, eyes blazing as he leans over you further and bends your body into a new angle. the eye contact feels like he’s lighting your skin on fire, and it’s almost too much for you to handle, a weak thrashing of limbs as you clench around the fingers inside you, but he doesn’t stop even for a second. his fingers fold around your palm and tug upwards until he’s got your hand against his face and nose pressed into your touch. “i’ll take care of you. be good for you. make sure you don’t want for anything.”

“wooyoung,” you whimper and curl the pads of your fingers into his cheek.

“let me hear you, baby, wanna hear every noise you make.” he stretches his fingers apart inside you, spreading you as far as he can, and it elicits a moan louder than the ones before. your back arches with the sensation, only blocked by the way wooyoung has you bent like a contortionist, and it prompts him to fuck his digits into you with a newfound passion, one fueled by your cries of pleasure. you’re certain it’s all sheer nonsense, but reason has truly left you in the face of pleasure, a heady euphoria that builds and builds until you’re on the brink. the pressure is so intense you could cry legitimate tears, mouth already agape in a silent cry, but right as it reaches the tip of that mountain, wooyoung slips his fingers out of you and robs you of that high.

“wooyoung!”

“hm? wanna cum?” he bends over you, nudging your cheek with his nose as you fight to catch your breath.

“please, please, i was so close!” the feeling is already dwindling back into hot coals, and you writhe a little under wooyoung’s weight.

“you didn’t say you wanted me to make you cum. should i make you cum?”

“stop being a b-brat, woo, please, please, i wanna cum! make me cum!”

“should i?”

the flat of his hand comes down on your clit. you startle, an unexpected moan tearing through you, and you throw the back of your hand over your mouth as a choked sob spills out too.

“yes, yes, come on.”

“hm? i can’t hear you when you’ve got your mouth covered like that, darling.” a second light slap to your cunt, again over your clit, and the tease of the sensation you crave so badly is enough to bring tears to your eyes. “how do you want to cum? on my fingers? just me hitting your clit like this? split open on my cock and pumped full of cum? or should i pull you up to my face and eat you out until your thighs are shaking around my head?” wooyoung’s hand drags over your face, pulling your arm down and letting go so he can tease a line down to your pussy once more. “as i said — say the word and it’s yours, baby.”

“j-just wanna cum, please, stop making me wait.”

“ah, ah, ah. you have to tell me what you want. how am i gonna know what you want if you don’t tell me? can’t you tell me just this once, y/n? just wanna know how best to please you, you know that.” the pout that folds wooyoung’s lips is enough to make you gawk at the sheer audacity of the gesture if it weren’t followed up by a third slap of his fingers over your cunt.

“fingers! fingers, please, wanna cum around your fingers then your cock as you’re fucking your cum into me!”

wooyoung tips his head back and laughs loud and clear, fingers moving to fill your pussy again, and you barely have time to recover before he’s curling them deep inside you.

“can you cum for me? let me see you fall apart, baby, i’ve been so good for you.” his thumb grazes your clit as his other digits rub along the inside of your walls, and that’s what makes you finally tip over the edge you craved so badly. the earlier tears of frustration spill out with the feeling, leaking down into your hairline as he rolls his fingers in and out of your throbbing cunt until you’re writhing under his touches. he’s speaking to you through it, lips moving nonstop as he pulls you through the dregs of the orgasm, but it’s all white noise in your ears. you’re vaguely aware of how you’re gripping the wrist of the hand that’s still overstimulating you, fingers clenched so tight that your knuckles have bled white, but even then wooyoung doesn’t stop until you finally reach your breaking point and beg for it to end.

and the moment you say ‘stop’, he’s pulling his fingers out of your cunt and pressing kisses over your cheeks, kissing the tears away until you catch your breath and stop gasping for air.

“good job, baby, you took me so well, you did so well,” he murmurs into your skin like it’ll make the praises bleed into your veins.

“fuck me now, please?” you whine as you clamber your hands up his body to hold his face. “still want you inside.”

wooyoung’s resolve cracks, and he groans, sinking back on his heels to line his cock up with your fluttering hole.

“i’ll fill you up, angel, promise. just the way you want.”

when he sinks into your cunt, it’s nothing magical or life-changing, but you do know right then that you don’t want any other man for the rest of your life. wooyoung curls his hands around the fronts of your thighs, near the hipbone so that he can pull your body to meet his as he buries himself inside your tight heat. the stretch is intoxicating, and your body is still radiating the pleasure of your first orgasm so the sting isn’t as bad as expected. once he’s fully settled inside, wooyoung moves his palm to cover your abdomen, pressing down on your womb with enough force to make you whine.

“fuck, fill you up so nicely, i wonder if i can feel myself fucking you like this, yeah? feel my cock moving in and out of you? maybe next time i’ll have to fuck your ass and see how deep i can go.”

“woo, m-move, come on.” you do your best to push your hips down onto his cock, but the angle is a bit unforgiving and leaves you waiting for him to make the first move. his response is to hike your hips up off the couch and sit up on his knees, fingers digging into your ass hard enough to leave little crescents in their wake.

“gonna breed you nice and full, baby. is that what you want?”

“yes.” you don’t intend to keep your mouth open after saying that but wooyoung pulls out all the way to the tip and plunges fully into your cunt, effectively knocking the air out of your lungs with that single thrust, and anything that’s left of your sanity goes out as well. it does you no good to cling to the cushion under you, so you bring your hands up over your head to hold onto the armrest as wooyoung builds up a merciless pace, pulling you forward to meet each forward thrust of his hips.

“let me cum inside, please, fuck y/n, pl-please. i’ll fill you up so well.”

“a-ah, is that — is that so?”

“yes, yes, yes,” wooyoung whines, teeth grazing the skin of his lower lip as his words come out in desperate pants. “i’ll fuck you full of my cum, make it spill out of you, i’ll keep going until you can’t hold anymore in your cunt. is that what you want me to do?”

“fuck, wooyoung.”

“i wanna pump so much cum into you that your belly gets swollen with it, i wanna see you carrying my cum in you, give me the chance please.”

“cum in me, woo,” you demand, words all but punched out of you with each thrust of his cock. it’s what dismantles him entirely too, as he sinks into you with a final thrust that pushes him over the edge, and in his orgasmic craze, he thumbs over your clit again, rolling the nub between his fingers until your walls tighten around his length and you tumble into another orgasm with him. wooyoung’s hips seem to move on their own accord, continuing to thrust weakly inside your cunt as he spills his load into you. head hung low, he finally lets you settle back onto the couch and brings his hands down to rest on the cushions as well if only to brace his weight as his strength leaves him in the haze of the aftermath of your sex.

you’re too fucked out to try to move even though you desperately want to take his face between your hands and kiss him senseless. he lowers himself further until he’s all but smothering you with his body, and he presses his cheek against your breast.

“round two over the kitchen counter?” he pants, twisting to look up at your face as he poses the question.

“you fucking menace.”

a/n: ummmm hi sooo this turned into a whole thing oopsies hehe hahahoohoh yikes user hongism is clearly showing how down ATROCIOUSLY she is for wooyoung don’t forget to reblog and leave feedback pls <3

#ateez smut #wooyoung smut #ateez x reader #wooyoung x reader #ateez imagine #ateez imagines #ateez drabble #ateez drabbles #wooyoung drabble #wooyoung drabbles #wooyoung imagine #wooyoung imagines #wooyoung oneshot #ateez oneshot #ateez ff #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #caly.writes #12daysofchristmas.collab

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silversatoru · 4 years ago

Text

i made this instead of doing my stacks of homework ^

step bro!itadori yuuji x f!reader

synopsis: i don’t think i even have to say this but you get stuck in a dryer and your step-brother yuuji fucks the shit out of you

t/w: 18+!!!, aged-up yuuji, stepcest, noncon/dubcon, manipulation, filming without consent, mild impact play, creampie, mild overstimulation, mild dumbification (but also reader is just dumb), mention of masturbation

w/c: 2.3k

a/n: hey!!! i joined this super fun collab hosted by my new gf @suna-reversed (thank u for letting me be a part of it!!) so if you enjoy this i highly recommend checking out the rest of the talented writers in this collab :) the jujutsuhub masterlist is here !! also,, biggest thank u my lovely friend @brandmeyelena for helping me to plan and perfect this fic throughout the entire process <333

you were a good daughter, certainty not the sharpest or the most intelligent, but you were helpful and compliant and you always did your chores. and you truly didn’t mind helping out around the house either; sweeping the floors and doing the dishes was easy enough, but there was one task that plagued you a bit more than the rest — doing the laundry. the buttons were just so confusing, and there were so many of them! and on top of that, your short stature made it nearly impossible to empty the fresh clothing out of your top-loaded dryer.

you were struggling with that exact issue right now, pushing onto your tip-toes as you tried to reach that last pesky sock stuck at the bottom of the dryer. your finger tips brushed over the warm fabric, just an inch short of being able to snatch it into your hand.

you wiggled your hips a little further, your feet lifting off the floor and your weight shifting so you fell deeper into the dryer. you were finally able to grasp the sock, but you were unable to push yourself back out, feet swinging wildly as you tried to squirm your way out of the machine.

“hey, what are you doing?”

your face flushed at the sound of your step-brother’s voice coming from behind you, your senses becoming suddenly aware of how far your dress was riding up your thighs. a pitiful whimper of embarrassment slid past your lips as you realized you couldn’t even pull your dress down — you needed both hands to hold you up and prevent you from falling into the dryer.

“ah! yuuji! ...i got stuck,” you pouted shamefully, thankful that you couldn’t see his face right now.

“again? isn’t this like... the third time?” he asked it like a genuine question, but you still felt stupid for getting stuck in the same predicament multiple times.

“mhm, can you help? please?” you whined at him, still wiggling your hips in a poor attempt to free yourself.

this only made your dress slide higher, the underside of your ass cheeks becoming prominently visible against the edge of the fabric. yuuji couldn’t help himself, gabbing his phone and snapping a few secret pictures of your exposed back-side. he planned to save those for later, maybe jack off to them if he was bored, but then a different idea flooded his head — you were no position to stop him from doing whatever he wanted right now.

he propped his phone up on top of one of the various laundry baskets, starting a video recording without your knowledge. then he waltzed back over, sliding a single finger under the fabric of your dress and tracing his finger around your round ass cheek. the sensation of touch made you flinch, your mouth gaping open as you fumbled over your next word.

“y-yuuji?” you stammered, trying to move away which only caused your ass to jiggle and shake more than it already was.

“shh, i’m helping,” he murmured, stroking his finger all the way down to your thigh.

he moved his other hand over your pretty cunt, the fabric of your panties hugging perfectly against your folds. he brushed two of his fingers up your clothed slit, causing you to yelp and continue to wriggle around.

“step-brother? what are you doing?” you continued to question him, your voice light and laced with confusion.

“i’ll help you get unstuck, but you have to repay me somehow, little sister,” he clicked his tongue at you, an evil grin that you couldn’t see stretching his lips.

he continued to poke and prod at your soft, clothed pussy, his mouth salivating as he imagined the things he could do to you in this position. every brush of his fingers coaxed gasps and whimpers from your lips, your worries and protests falling on deaf ears.

“y-you’re my brother, yuuji! w-we can’t do this!” you continued to argue, but his gentle fingers were starting to feel really good — small streams of fluid flowing out of your cunt and seeping into your panties.

“it seems like you want me to,” he observed, poking his finger at the small wet spot that was forming now, “and mom and dad won’t be home until later. no one will find out”.

you felt his strong hands weave their way underneath the straps of your undergarments, swiftly pulling them down your thighs and letting them dangle from your ankles. you sucked in a sharp breath at the feeling of your wet cunt being exposed to the cool air, shifting your hips and filling yuuji’s head with more sinful ideas.

you couldn’t see anything (with your head still being stuck in the dryer) but you heard your brother’s own pants fall to the floor, a loud clank of his belt buckle against the tiles confirming your suspicions. everything about this felt so wrong, but at the same time, you’d always been shamefully attracted to yuuji — eyes lingering on his chiseled chest for a little too long when he walked around the house shirtless.

your head was swirling with thoughts like: would it really be that wrong if the two of you indulged in each other while no one was around? it’s not like you were actually blood related or anything.

on the other hand, yuuji had a one-track mind, and he wasn’t having any of the doubts that you were — he had a tendency to listen to his dick instead of his brain. and right now your round, plump ass was staring him in the face and begging to get fucked. how could he not take advantage of this opportunity?

he lifted his hand and gave a firm slap to your right ass check, earning a gasped yelp from you which made his dick twitch and strain. he mumbled under his breath, something along the lines of ‘i’ve always wanted to do that’ but it was kind of hard to hear from the depths of the dryer.

he’d used a reasonable amount of force, a puffy handprint forming on the surface on your skin. he decided that the other cheek should match, delivering another firm strike to the other side and watching you squirm and whimper at the impact.

he grabbed his phone and pulled it over for a few close ups, showing off the swollen skin to the camera. he then placed a finger at the front of your entrance, the puffy, slick walls sucking it in as he delivered a few warm-up strokes with his hand. the camera picked up on all the grotesque squelching noises made by his finger in your cunt, as well as the embarrassed yelps and moans leaving your lips.

now that you had two matching, swollen hand prints, and your pussy had been properly prepped, he decided he was ready for the main course. yuuji returned his phone to its spot on the laundry basket before grabbing a low stool from the corner of the room and setting it in front of the dryer so he could stand on it for easier access. his cock was red and veiny, begging for entrance into your tight cunt as he wrapped one hand around it to position himself.

you’d always imagined your step-brother’s dick to be lengthy, and your assumptions were proven correct when your felt a tight pressure in your core. his girthy size pushed and stretched at your walls, pained mewls leaking from between your teeth as you clawed at the bottom of the dryer.

yuuji let out a groan that was almost animalistic, throwing his head back and placing a firm grip on either side of your hips. the way your pitiful form was positioned on the dryer gave him excellent access, the curve of his dick allowing him to stretch you deep, reaching all the way to the spongy patch of tissue that made you feel so good.

a jumble of grotesque noises filled the room, a chorus your sloppy moans, yuuji’s pleasured grunts, and the steady slap of his hips on your ass. he’d imagined what this would be like more times than he could count — fucking himself into his fleshlight and mumbling your name while he did so. but no matter how many times he’d dreamed of this moment, he never expected your walls to be so tight — so perfectly snug around his cock.

“yuuji!” you repeated his name a few times, head so dazed from the overwhelming bliss that you’d forgotten all about the initial guilt you’d felt.

“see, i knew you’d like this, little sister. your big brother would never steer you wrong, would he?” he knew his words were manipulative, but god, you were much too dumb to understand or grasp the concept of manipulation — you’d just agree with him like you always do.

“no! he would never!” you whined, letting your head dip lower into the dryer so he could fuck you at an even better angle.

your messy cunt squelched and squeezed a small stream of juices down your thigh as he picked up a deeper, faster pace, your moans becoming higher and more unsteady in response. he could feel your sloppy walls fluttering and constricting against him, his fingertips digging deeper into your hips as he let out a few breathy moans.

the tip of his cock slammed into your pleasure spot with every stroke, voiding your brain of any cohesive thoughts you might have had hiding in there. you moaned and whimpered over and over, whining yuuji’s name like a mantra as drool spilled from your lips.

yuuji could almost imagine your perfectly fucked-out face — your eyes rolling into your head and your mouth hanging open lazily. he grunted at the thought, deciding that the next time he fucked you it was gonna be somewhere that he could watch your face and really enjoy the show — because there was definitely going to be a next time.

there was a tight coil forming in your stomach, building up more and more the longer that your step-brother railed himself into you from behind. you hardly even noticed how sore your hips were getting or how numb and tingly your legs were from being bent over the dryer, yuuji’s dick filling you up so well that those things became an afterthought.

after a few more pounds to your oozing cunt that hit deep enough to graze your cervix, you felt a heightened wave of pleasure begin to crash over your body. surges of the most blissful sensation you’d ever felt racked through your systems, your whines becoming borderline screams as yuuji fucked you through your orgasm.

the way your warm, messy walls fluctuated and gripped around his cock pushed him close to his own climax, but he wasn’t quite ready to be done with you yet. he continued to provide heavy, forceful thrusts, abusing your now sensitive cunt and moaning loudly as your juices squelched out around the edges of your entrance. the disgusting sounds of your fluids squeezing out around his cock nearly sent him over the edge again, but he was determined to ride this out for as long as he could.

“it’s too much!” you wailed between heavy breaths, every stroke sending jolts of overstimulation through your clit.

you wiggled and whined, legs clenching together in defense and causing your pussy to wrap even tighter around yuuji’s dick. the added pressure and increased pleasure was something he could no longer surpass, succumbing to his own orgasm just moments later.

“fuck, feels- too- fucking- good- shit,” he grunted a long string of mostly profanity, emptying his hot release into your caverns as you continued to cry out and whimper underneath him.

yuuji had fucked you even stupider than you already were, your head way too dazed for you to even realize he was filling your insides with warm, sticky semen. he milked his orgasm all the way through and then some, his cock aching and twitching by the time he finally pulled it out of your white-stuffed cunt.

he wrapped his toned arms around your waist, finally pulling you out of the dryer and attempting to stand you up. but between the lack of blood flow to your legs from being stuck, and the good fuck yuuji had just given you, your lower extremities were in no shape to hold you up. you sunk right to the floor, your messy pussy spilling everywhere and leaving puddles of fluid and semen.

“thanks for helping me get un-stuck, big brother,” you looked up at him with admiration, blissfully unaware of how he was using your utter stupidity to his advantage.

“of course, you want me to carry you to bed?” he gave you a sympathetic look, squatting down with his back to you.

you hummed happily, wrapping your arms around his neck and climbing onto his muscular back. he carried you down the hall and into your room, laying you down and handing you an old towel for you to clean yourself up with. you were a pitiful site, hazy eyes and an ignorant smile resting on your face as yuuji admired your damaged little cunt for a few more moments before returning to the laundry room.

he grabbed his phone and ended the video, thankful that you were much to oblivious to notice that it was recording the entire time. he was definitely going to hold onto the recording for safe keeping and later use — and shit, maybe he’d even upload it to pornhub and make a quick buck too.

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