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chmpngekisses · 2 years ago

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I’M NOT HER - TOMMY SHELBY

author’s note: im thinking about making this into a little series! it was gonna be one long imagine but i decided to slow it down a bit and maybe make it a 3-4 part series, but only if people want it! also i didn’t proofread so sorry!

gif is not mine.

Getting married to Thomas Shelby wasn't on your bingo list for the year. Hell, you never wanted to be in the same room as that man whenever you had to be present with your father making deals with the mad man. You were never fond of him, how he could just walk in the room and everyone will obey him for whatever he wanted them to do.

You could remember the day your parents got into an huge argument. Your mother screaming at your father for the life changing action he made. You were upstairs in your room with your younger sister Alice as you guys were sitting on your own beds just listening to the brawl that was happening downstairs.

“Do you not realize how stupid you are?!” Your mother screamed, “Sending her off to marry that mad man Shelby because you couldn’t keep your end of the deal!” She exclaimed. You and your sister looked at each other with widen eyes, your sister covered her mouth as she was trying to process the news she was hearing.

“Do you think it’s me?” Alice questioned, you shook your head. “I know I just turned eighteen but what if it’s me because I’m now an adult” she started to ramble as she started to feel scared.

“It’s not going to be you” You spoke, “You’re the youngest, I doubt Shelby would stoop low and marry an eighteen year old” You were hoping it wasn’t your little sister so she wouldn’t have to deal with that man. You thought she was too pure to deal with a man like Thomas Shelby, how she would quickly drop off the cup of teas and quickly leave the room when deals were being made.

“But I don’t want it to be you either” Alice mumbled, you sighed as the both of you went silent to listen the argument. You were only twenty-two years old, not that it mattered but you being the oldest, you had a feeling you might be the bride to Tommy Shelby.

“You can’t just send her off to him” Your mother begged and pleaded, hearing her cries as she’s struggling to breathe. “She’s our first, please don't do this” hearing her whimper.

Then it hit you like you just gotten hit by a truck. Because your father couldn't keep his part of the deal, you became part of the deal. Although you hated that you have to marry the Shelby man, you mostly hated that this is the way you found out.

Alice quickly got off of her bed to go on yours, sitting behind you as she wrapped her arms around your shoulders, beginning to sob that her big sister was now going away to live with a “mad man”. All you could do was just put your hands on her arms, swaying the both of you side to side as comfort.

You are now officially married to Thomas Shelby, making you Y/N Shelby. You were glad that the whole wedding process was over. The special day itself would've been beautiful if the backstory never existed. Polly, Ada and Alice helping you with your hair and makeup. Putting on the most beautiful, most expensive wedding gown that fitted your body just right. For once you had some appreciation for Tommy since he did everything he could to make the wedding right for you, starting with the venue, the flowers, the setup, everything.

But of course, the wedding had flaws. You couldn't look your father in the eye, knowing he's the reason why you’re here in the first place. How your mother was sobbing because you were being handed to the Thomas Shelby, and how she walked out mid-ceremony as a protest. Causing you to tear a bit during the speech but you did your best to fight it.

Tommy observed your body language the whole wedding, he could tell you wanted to break down right there when your mother left or when she was crying as your father was handing you off to me. Side eyeing to see your little sister Alice is doing everything to show that she's brave in this situation and that it doesn't affect her.

Or how he observed you during the dinner that was after the ceremony. How you were barley eating, just moving your food along the plate with your fork. How you were too quiet and only spoke when spoken to. Or how your sister moved seats to be next to you and you were finally comfortable speaking or joking around simply because Alice was there. Or how your father would speak and you would simply tune him out before you say anything rude at the event.

But right now, Tommy is observing you while you are touring around the house. How you feel out of place in a huge house like this, how it’s basically your home now as well.

Admiring every painting, every sculpture, every furniture in his house. Just so you can feel comfort and familiarity with it. Until you came across a painting of his first wife, Grace Shelby. You were silent as you were admiring her beauty through the art, how you could tell that she probably made Tommy so happy and how she must’ve been a wonderful mother to Charlie.

Tommy broke the silence, “Don’t worry” he spoke. You turned around to make eye contact with him, “You’ll have a painting of ye own” he said. All you could do was give him a soft smile, but you felt out of place that you didn’t deserve a painting.

“Thank you Mr.Shelby but-’

“Call me Tommy” he said sternly, “We’re now married, remember?” he added, you nodded your head.

“Thank you Tommy but I don’t think I deserve a painting” You said, “Let’s not forget why we’re married in the first place” you paused, staring at Tommy’s emotionless face.

“But I’m not her” you confessed as you stared at Grace’s portrait again, “I don’t think having my own painting would do it's own good” you softly smiled.

“Very well” he spoke, “Let’s go upstairs and I’ll show you the bedroom eh?” you nodded your head as you followed behind him. Frances was walking down the stairs, having encounter with you guys.

“Hello Mr and Mrs. Shelby” Frances smiled, “I just put Charlie to bed” she announced. “Thank you Frances” Tommy thanked as he nodded his head, continuing up the stairs.

Weeks went by, you were finally getting comfortable in the Shelby’s house. Focusing more on being a mother to Charlie than being a wife to Tommy, since he was always out on dealing with business, you were glad you didn't have to overthink on everything you did when he was around.

“Nine, ten. Ready or not, here I come!” you said loudly as you removed your hands from your eyes, trying to look for the two year old in the front yard to win the game of hide and seek. Charlie started to get closer to you overtime since you were basically the only parent figure for the little boy, so you had as much bonding time with him.

You started glancing around, “where could little Charlie be?” you said loudly, hoping to get a sound from the little boy which worked. You started to hear a little giggle coming from the flower pots, you smiled knowing where he already was but you wanted to drag it a little bit.

“Is he in the bushes” You asked as you were walking around, hearing the giggles get loud since Charlie couldn't control his laughter, you smiled at the sound. “No he isn’t in the bushes”

Then you started to get closer to the flower pots, “Is he by the flowers?” Asking innocently. Tommy started to pull up through the driveway but you wasn’t paying attention. The giggles from behind the flower pot was only getting louder.

“There he is!” You said as Charlie squealed in excitement. Picking him up and placing him on your hip, “I found you” tickling his sides as he was throwing a laughing fit.

You started realize Tommy was near as you looked up from Charlie to see Tommy walking towards you two. Bouncing Charlie in your arms as you were trying to get him excited to see his father.

“Look Charlie, your dad is here” you smiled at Charlie as the little boy returned a smile back. Starting to meet Tommy half way by walking towards him as well.

Seeing Charlie be so happy with you made Tommy feel things but he wanted to discard the feelings. He believes he couldn’t fall in love with you at all since you were only a deal, but the way he sees you with Charlie or how you help Frances out with the house just because you wanted to.

He saw that you were starting to ease up around him, how sometimes you would offer to bring him something to eat or drink when he’s in your office. How you would ask him how was business or if anything went wrong, how you were much more comfortable around his family and how you invite your sister Alice to the house more.

“Hello you two” Tommy greeted, you gave him a small smile as you handed Charlie to his father. “I saw you two were playing hide and seek. You’re a great hider Charlie eh?” Charlie clapped in response.

“Frances is starting dinner, do you want me to stay with Charlie until then and you can get some paperwork out of the way?” You asked, you never asked him that before. You usually just say hello to Tommy and go back to playing with Charlie.

“I don’t plan on doing any paperwork til later” Tommy answered, “Let’s go inside, shall we” he said, you nodded your head as you started to walk first with Tommy following you behind with Charlie.

Once you guys make it inside, you can’t help but glance at Grace’s portrait walking by.

Because you know what matter you do, you will never be her.

#tommy shelby #thomas shelby #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders imagines #grace shelby #imagine #arranged marriage #maybe a series #thomas shelby imagine

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frenchy-and-the-sea · 8 days ago

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Didn't expect to do this, but. Excerpt from a longer piece I'm working on from my Curse of Strahd campaign, because I was reading over it while trying to find something to work on in the midst of all of this awful shit and got slapped with some very on the nose feelings. Call it my WIP Wednesday, lol.

“But honestly, who is going to blame me for indulging in a little bit of absurdity right now? This whole situation is mad.” “Is it?” Now Ireena turns to face her, brows furrowed in genuine confusion. “How so?” This, from Ireena, is a real question, and not a sarcastic quip at Wyn's expense, so she takes a breath to quell the sudden scorch of fire in her chest and turns her attention back to her sketch. “Where would you have me start?” she asks, very lightly. “The night that we spent safe among a full caravan of people on a well-traveled trade road, only to wake up in the middle of unfamiliar woods, alone, with necromantic mists chasing our every step? The haunted manor house so full to the brim with moral transgressions that it tried to eat us one floor at a time, and very nearly succeeded? Or perhaps the fact that less than two hours ago, we were sat down at the table of a woman who claims to see the future and told that, despite our inexperience and our incompetence and the fact that we have not so much as a whit of real skill between us, we are apparently meant to be this land’s saviors?” In truth, savior hadn’t been the word that Madam Eva had used. She had been more delicate, less certain; she had used words like ‘might,’ like ‘maybe.’ But she had still held out beseeching hands across her card-strewn table and told them that they carried hope on their shoulders, that she looked to them for the cure to the curse on Barovia’s stricken land. She had still said that they were what she had been waiting for. The whole thing had been so absurd that Wyn still feels a little glow of pride when she remembers that she hadn’t laughed. Beside her, Ireena nods, slowly. “I see,” she says, and she probably does, but Wyn can tell by her expression that she also thinks that Wyn is overreacting. The thought is nearly enough to spin up the grease fire burning in her gut again, almost enough to bait the howling animal — but then Wyn takes another breath, and sighs, and shrugs. “I expect that you’re the only one who does,” she says, smiling like there isn't a part of her that wants to start screaming instead. “But, as near as I can tell, I have two options: I can either wallow in the knowledge that this is our death sentence, and spend a very productive evening being a font of wretched despair and grim portent, or —” She makes a flourishing gesture down to the sketch in her lap. “— I can paint a beard onto the wizard. Considering that I expect to spend no small amount of time on the former, I’ve decided to indulge the latter while I have the energy.”

#my writing #frenchy writes #oc crap #the wyn tag #i need a curse of strahd tag #wyn 'things have gotten so bad that i'm turning to stupid art and bad jokes' bannon everyone #my favorite repository for all of my worst feelings #started reading through this to get a feel of the energy to start it up again and got absolutely blindsided by the solidarity of the despai #minor spoilers for some CoS stuff but nothing really to look out for #for those following along at home this IS about the time when ireena told our wizard that he would be a REAL wizard once he grew a beard #which wyn laughed so hard about that she decided to immortalize it #the persistence in the face of the worst while also feeling really fuckin mad and sad and despairing about it REALLY LEAPT OUT AT ME Y'ALL

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getvalentined · 3 months ago

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@takenbynumbers: tseng for the ask game - 13, 24, 35, 44. :)

[For the Random Character Asks game.]

13. Dumbest thing they’ve ever done?

Canonically? Probably that time he messed up that mission with Veld and almost got them both killed. (The one that leads to one of my favorite lines from Veld, which basically translates to "...They say that subordinates are a lot like their superiors, so maybe I'm still naive, too.")

Headcanon? When Tseng was about seventeen he once accidentally stole one of Veld's extremely expensive pens after a group meeting, didn't realize it until two days later when he found it in his desk drawer, and proceeded to spend the next week trying to sneak it back into Veld's desk instead of just telling him that he'd accidentally walked away with it.

After a series of failed attempts that landed three colleagues in trouble (all of whom insisted that they would willingly sacrifice themselves to keep Tseng out of trouble because Turks are and have always been ride-or-die, even in exceptionally ridiculous situations), the incident was resolved when Reno finally just took the pen from Tseng, slipped it into his pocket, and walked into the armory.

A few seconds later he walked back out, holding up the pen like a lighter at a concert. "Hey, Chief! Isn't this like your sixth-favorite 'I'm a rich bastard' pen? I don't think it goes in the materia locker."

As it turned out, Veld had been so busy over the past week and a half that he hadn't even noticed it was missing. He thanked Reno, theorizing that he'd accidentally carried it in there himself when getting kitted out for a field assignment, and just accidentally left it in the locker.

(This event may be why Reno was given the vice director position upon Tseng's promotion within the department, but neither of them will confirm or deny the possibility.)

(Also I know the Ultimania says that Reno is 25 during the Crisis but that makes absolutely no sense with the timeline of the Compilation so I reject this as soundly as I reject Sephiroth being born in 1980.)

24. Most annoying habit?

For simple habits, like tics, Tseng tends to use fountain pens not because of any preference of his own, but because he will fidget with click pens or snap the lid on and off capped pens over and over and over until everyone around him wants to strangle him alive. Veld got him into fountain pens so that he'd stop doing that during mission briefs and meetings.

For more complex issues, as indicated in the story above, Tseng is horribly indirect in social situations. This is doubly true when he thinks someone else has a problem with him, which leads to him asking questions of mutual acquaintances, making observations and constructing timelines to try to figure out whether he or the other party is in the wrong, and overthinking every previous interaction he can think of instead of just asking the other person what's going on.

This is less annoying for the people who don't realize it's happening, but for everyone else there's a lot of "Just ask him. Oh my god. Just ask him what's wrong! Tseng you are THIRTY-EIGHT YEARS OLD just ASK HIM if he's mad at you!"

35. Their idea of a perfect day?

Even with alarms off, Tseng wakes up a little after sunrise, even on the weekend. He rolls over, slings his arm over Reeve in bed and stays there until Reeve wakes up about an hour later. They get up, Reeve checks his phone—Tseng takes it from him, because they're off work today. He goes through Reeve's notifications, snoozes all of them for 48 hours, then gives him back his phone.

Reeve makes coffee while Tseng makes sure Cait Sith is set on assignments for the day, and then both and and Reeve see him off for the day. Cait Sith won't connect directly with Reeve except in an emergency, and Tseng isn't worried about that; he can take care of himself, and things are quiet these days anyway. The biggest problems they have to deal with these days are ordinary people with legal agreements, not overpowered superhumans with lethal aggression.

Tseng gets dressed before Reeve, because Reeve likes to shower first thing in the morning and Tseng likes to shower before he goes to bed. He makes breakfast while Reeve is washing up, and gets a call from Reno that he's letting Elena off early today because she has a date. It'll mean they're running a little skinny through the weekend, but the mission board is almost empty so he's not pressed about it. Tseng says that's all right, he trusts Reno's judgment, and he'll talk to him on Monday.

He pages through the worst gossip rag in Junon while Reeve eats breakfast, periodically turning the magazine around to ask if Reeve thinks a particular photo of this or that public figure was taken by Kunsel. Reeve agrees with him every time, except for the one of Vincent, and they both admit that Kunsel is too scared of Vincent to have done that. They spend some time theorizing who would have taken the chance, going well past the point that breakfast is done, but don't reach a consensus before an alarm goes off and it's time to head out.

Up on the roof of the WRO's executive housing facility, Tseng and Reeve load up one of the organization's aircars—like an airship, but stripped down to the smallest versions of the barest essentials until it's not quite the length of a travel trailer—and spend the next few hours in the sky. The autopilot gives Tseng some time to read, although it always makes Reeve anxious. This is funny, singe Reeve helped develop the aircar in the first place, so he knows there's no risk of them going down just because Tseng took his eyes off the instruments for a few minutes, and Tseng teases him about it until Reeve begrudgingly concedes.

They touch down in Costa, but not on the landing pad—not even properly in town, instead settling just past the cliffs that divide the commercial, public beaches with the less-accessible stretch of shoreline to the north. Reeve unloads the aircar and Tseng sets up, propping up an umbrella, unfolding chairs and draping them in towels, situating the cooler and pulling out one of those cheap premade smoothies-in-a-pouch for lunch. He gets changed while Reeve has his own lunch, and they spend the rest of the day at the beach; around sunset they get back in the car (leaving all those things they brought on the sand, no one can get here except from the air and everything is replaceable anyway) to head into town, where they get dinner from a food truck on the side of the road as they walk from the landing pad to the hotel where they'll spend the night.

Tomorrow afternoon, they'll head home. But for a little over 24 hours, there's nothing but sunshine and sand and water, ice melting in a plastic cooler, slightly-uncomfortable folding chairs and sand-crusted towels. No work, no responsibilities, no crises to avert.

And when Tseng goes back to work on Monday, he'll remember exactly why that work is worth doing, which feels pretty perfect to him.

44. Their happiest memory?

I would say that Tseng doesn't have a lot of happy memories, but that's not really it. The thing is that for Tseng, happiness is a fleeting, finite thing; contentment is possible eventually, but happiness is different, happiness is deeper, and it isn't until after the world has come to and end multiple times that he finds it in a more permanent sense. Before that, his happiest memories are...not what most people would consider pleasant? But they're happy nonetheless.

Pinned under rubble when he was too young and too naive to know when to give up, sure that he was going to die, and then having Veld show up to save him after insisting over and over that he wouldn't.

Security footage taken from Kalm, seeing Aerith under a blue sky for the first time and knowing that it was where she was meant to be, that she was finally getting to see the world that belonged to her.

Sitting in the forest outside the Forgotten Capital, bruised and bleeding after days of torture at the hands of the Remnants, watching Vincent work on treating Elena's injuries—first, before Tseng, because she was unconscious and he wasn't—and eventually turn to Tseng and declare without a hint of uncertainty that she would pull through.

If asked, Tseng would say that he has a lot of happy memories. Nobody else would think they're happy at all.

#tseng of the turks #headcanon warning #reeve tuesti #is also here #tseeve #is definitely here #reno of the turks #as is #veld of the turks #because of course he is #ask game #this is NOT tse|ena or tser!th #plzkthx

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furiousgoldfish · 2 years ago

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Hey, hope you're having a good day today (or at least not a bad one). I'm really confused about my situation, and I'm hoping that perhaps you may be able to help me figure things out about it

My memories of my early childhood are extremely fragmented at best and non-existent at worst, large voids of experiences that should be there, but aren't. Of the few fragments I do have, I get the sense that something must've been going on -- I space out when someone counts to three, the thought of someone grabbing my wrist activates my fight-or-flight response, and any sort of skin-hitting-skin sound makes me flinch. But at the same time, of the earliest whole memories I *do* have, from perhaps around the age of 13, I...wasn't being abused by my parents or anything? Like, I would get shouted at a hell of a lot, and I would get into trouble for shit that my brothers did and got away with, hell sometimes I would even end up getting blamed for what they did, especially my older brother.

And speaking of him, he's always been a self-centered piece of shit, always taking my things from me because he likes them and wants them for himself, or breaking things of mine because he didn't like them -- one time he tore off the face of a doll I'd made based on a character I made up -- and then yelling back at me when I got mad at him, or copying and/or deleting my save datas on games he wanted to complete himself first if I was too far ahead, not to mention the times he would repeatedly bash his leg against mine to the point of leaving bruises if mine happened to knock against his in the car, or how he'd yell at me to stop singing only to start singing himself, or how he'd always claim to like whatever songs he knew I hated and hate songs he knew I liked. And he would always get the more expensive birthday/christmas presents, and there were always loopholes in the rules and restrictions for him. Maybe I'm just being jealous, but it really feels like they're playing favorites here, and I'm the bottom of the barrel.

But in the last couple of years (since like...2020, I was 16 turning 17), things have...changed. I've been keeping myself isolated in my room 24/7, I'm basically nocturnal just to avoid everyone, and...I'm not even sure if I'm doing the right thing. My parents are both acting really nice, especially my mother (which is funny cuz she's always been the one I've been most scared of) -- hell, my mother even got me a Nintendo Switch recently, and she'll always buy whatever snacks and things I ask for, and we're going out together soon in a few days to go get cake together. And my brother, while he's only gotten worse in things he hates about me (now he'll get mad if I clear my throat "wrong"), seems to be...afraid? Of me now, and avoidant of being in the same room as me if he can, while before he would almost seem to seek me out and try to antagonize me.

Whilst certainly a refreshing change of pace in some aspects, it's also throwing my own memories into question. Anything before 2020 feels...fake, almost, at times, and any potential abuse from before 13 may not have even happened, for all I know I could just be inventing this all to try and fill the hours of isolation and justify my own fear and mistrust. And yet I *know* there had to have been something, because a 13-year-old doesn't start feeling like an outsider in their own family, and questioning if they were adopted, or if maybe they're secretly some alien from outerspace or monster from some deep dark cave somewhere for no reason, right? But then again I was always told that I'm overemotional, that my depression was always present from that age (despite me not even feeling depressed at all until I was 14?), that it was hormones, or school, which I mean it could be? How would I know, I don't even remember anything? And yet those just feel like excuses to direct me away from the true problem?

...I don't know, I don't know what to think, I keep flipping back and forth between the two. What's your opinion, reading this? I can give more information if it's wanted

Yeah I can see why your experience is so confusing to you, not only your memories are a mess and constantly being second-guessed, but your reality shifts for no apparent reason and you feel pressured to accept every new situation as if the last one didn't even happen.

Based on everything you're saying, I'm certain you're abused. The fragments of memories that you have all are memories one would have dissociated from due to abuse (in your case, you're even describing physical violence), and people don't make things like this up, it's upsetting, scary and painful. Nobody wants to believe they've been thru such things, and you seem to be suffering from the symptoms of it. Memories of fight-or-flight response being triggered, being shouted at, someone hitting you, this wouldn't have been happening if you weren't thru something really awful. And you'd have your memories whole, not fragmented.

Your sibling definitely abused you, and from how you describe it, it reminds me a lot on the narcissistic split between the children - narcissistic parents will often pick one child who will be 'the golden child' and will be heavily favoured, praised, will be able to get away with everything, and will be able to abuse and exploit the other siblings without any repercussions. The other child will be 'the scapegoat', and this child will always be blamed for everything, shouted at, humiliated, abused, forced to do work/chores, even used as a servant and a punching bag to rest of the family. The golden child can always abuse the scapegoat and get away with it.

So it's not just 'playing favourites', it's parents treating one child as a part of the family, and another one as a burden, waste, outsider. Golden child will usually have traits closer to the parents (it can be cruelty, sadism, entitlement, selfishness, self-importanct, or just some trait that parents can get celebrated for, like talents for acting, singing, music, sports appearance), and the scapegoat will usually be perceived as 'too different' or 'not useful' or can be discriminated even for a disorder, disability or sickness (though I've seen parents pick the sick child for the golden child too, because they can get a lot of sympathy points for being the poor parents who have to struggle with a sick child).

I could be wrong about this, only you will know if this rings true to you or not, if this isn't your situation, you still are being put thru something truly uncommon and weird that is hard to understand. There are several reasons why abusive parents will suddenly snap and change their behaviour from atrocious to 'less atrocious' or even 'nice':

You are closer to becoming an adult and they know you will realize that you have been abused, and there might be consequences for them once you realize it, so the treatment of you quickly changes so you'd have nothing visible to complain about, and so that you look insane if you do complain

Your parents are getting monitored by someone and are in danger of their abuse being outed. It can be a social service, but it also can be a neighbour or someone perceptive who is paying close watch to what happens to kids. Parents will be willing to act nice and to buy gifts and to treat their kids way nicer if they know they're being watched for abuse

You are getting opportunities to get away from home, which could result in you both realizing the past abuse, and telling someone about it, without them being able to stop you. They need to persuade you with nicer treatment to stay home, to not go anywhere, to not tell anyone anything, so they need you to feel insane if you try to remember the past or the abuse

They might want something from you that they can't get via abuse, they'll need your consent to something, and they need to convince you that they're good parents and love you, so you would not object to it. This can be anything from organ donation to marriage to some cult thing

it could be something completely else that I haven't even thought of, but the common theme is that your parents, right now, feel very invested in you NOT being able to figure out that you're abused, possibly because of the risk that they'll be reported, or that they'll lose you as a victim.

None of this means that your memories are not real, or that what you survived was fake or something to discard or forget! Had your parents and sibling really changed, they would actually reflect on their past behaviour, talk to you about it, apologize, try to make amends, they would not simply expect you to 'accept this new situation and never mention the past'. Only on abusive situations are you required to accept whatever you get, and never allowed to bring up anything that was done to slight you in the past.

I know this might be really hard, but trust your memories above everything. You didn't get in this situation, writing to a blog about abuse, struggling with fragmented memory, confronted with a strange and sudden change in behaviour, because nothing happened. Something did happen. The reason for change might be something neither you or I don't know about, some threat to the parents that is currently invisible or hidden from you. But you don't have to accept the current situation or ignore the past.

If you feel it's safe, you could try asking about why they've changed, and if they explode, refuse to elaborate, punish you for even mentioning it, or act like there was no change at all and you're insane - then you have your proof, they're gaslighting you about your past. To pretend nothing happened when it did, is to try to make you second-guess your own memory, and it's generally a method that makes a person go insane trying to figure out what's the truth.

Also, I forgot to respond to this earlier, but going nocturnal is something really common with children who are being abused. Night time often seems like the only time it's safe to be awake because abusers are asleep and you're allowed a moment of peace and comfort. Night is the safest time to exist for the abused. So that's another red flag you have that shows signs of abuse on you. Non-abused individuals feel safe and peaceful during the day as well.

#suspected narcissistic abuse #abusive siblings #golden child #the scapegoat #sibling abuse #recognizing abuse #gaslighting #changing behaviour of abusers #furiousgoldfish

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paalove · 2 years ago

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Hello. I want to request a prompt for jealous ink and pa. Other than that i also want jealous sam and mon. Hope that the end will be they confess to each other and heavy session lol. Thank you.

hiiiiii so the sam/mon prompt is still ongoing - i'm aiming for next week? but that will be a little bit more like the ending you want haha

for NOW have fluffy jealous!inkpaa

also on ao3

“I’m not sulking,” Paa lies right to Ink’s face.

Ink pouts back at her in a way that’s mostly mimicking Paa’s usual pout, because Ink knows those are effective, and she says, “But you aren’t eating the cake, and you played your sad playlist in the car, and,” punctuated with a tap to Paa’s down-tilted chin, “You aren’t even looking at me.”

Shrugging and sitting further back in the chair – meaning Ink won’t be able to tap her chin – Paa just makes a grumpy little noise.

Chewing the inside of her lip, Ink thinks.

Her main problem is that she doesn’t know why Paa’s sad.

If it were one of the usual things – Pat fighting with their dad, a class that’s too hard, some guy who hasn’t got the memo about Paa not being single – Paa would have told her. Paa always tells her, normally right away! Ink’s always getting despondent little hamster-stickers to her phone in the middle of the day, because Paa’s pouty and sweet and loves complaining loudly and with relish.

That means it’s something unusual that’s upsetting Paa, but that’s where Ink’s detective work is hitting a dead end.

No fights with any of her friends, Ink’s pretty sure, because since Paa got all quiet and preoccupied (six days ago is when Ink noticed, but she’d had an essay and an article to submit the same week just before so she can’t rule out that Paa’s been sad for longer than that, and that’s upsetting too) she’s been texting all her same group chats.

No fights with Pat either – Ink asked.

It doesn’t seem like a non-Pat issue with her family.

But nothing much gets to Paa like this, and Ink’s kind of lost, and she brought Paa out to this café for the specific purpose of cheering her up.

The café isn’t Paa’s very favourite but it’s up there, and it’s pretty expensive so they don’t get out to it often, so it is a special treat that should get Paa smiling.

This is a very serious problem; Ink has to solve it.

Resolved, she carefully positions a bite of her own cake onto her fork and holds it out to Paa across the table, saying, “Okay. If you’re not sulking, try the cake. It’s ‘orange velvet’, I can’t tell what that really means though. Don’t you want to try?”

She watches Paa’s face closely as she presses her lips together and glances away from Ink and she feels more nervous than the situation really warrants, probably, but it feels important.

“Mm. Alright,” Paa eventually says.

Ink doesn’t have a lot of time to be relieved about that victory, because Paa takes the fork from Ink’s hand after saying that.

The whole fork.

She doesn’t lean forwards to take the bite like she always, always does, she just grabs the fork and takes a dainty bite and now Ink realises that there’s a whole type of situation she hasn’t even been considering when trying to figure out what’s upsetting Paa – she’s mad at her.

Or at least upset with her.

It’s got to do with Ink, that much is clear, but they haven’t had a fight – maybe she’s been lonely while Ink’s been busy? But things have cleared up over the past week and Paa normally cheers up pretty fast-

She’s lost.

At least the bite of Ink’s cake seems to have reminded Paa how much she loves the café – she turns to her own plates and starts taking her usual, methodical approach to having multiple cakes. A bite from one, a bite from the other, a cute little frown when she realises she’s taken a bigger bite from one than the other so she’ll balance that out on the next pair of bites…

Okay, she’s still not looking at Ink, but that’s normal for when there’s really good cake involved.

The success is only partial, but Ink will take the win; she starts on her own cake now that Paa’s had the first bite.

Of course, she has to eat with her fingers, Paa not having seen fit to give her back the fork, but that’s fine – the cake isn’t super crumbly or anything, she can work with this.

About halfway through it, she sees the little smile on Paa’s face and thinks, opening.

With a sigh, she allows herself to slump over the cake as she says, “This is such good cake… if only my girlfriend would talk to me, so we could talk about how good the cake is, that would be great,” feeling only, like, a little bit stupid.

It’s worth it, though, Paa giggling in response.

“P’Ink,” she complains, “You don’t want to talk about the cake, though.”

Poking her in the chin again, Ink says, “That’s right. Tell me why you’re sad, huh?”

Paa looks away, but she doesn’t lean back again, instead reaching up to take Ink’s hand and loosely intertwine their fingers.

“It’s stupid,” she says to their hands.

Ink shakes her head immediately.

With a smile and a shy glance at Ink for the first time, Paa says, “No, really, I’m just… I just want to stop thinking about it so I don’t want to talk about it.”

That makes Ink feel bad.

“But we normally talk about-“

“-I’m upset you put your Instagram on private.”

Ink did just put her Instagram on private, and she knows Paa was kind of anxious about that but, “We talked about how most people in my field-“

“-I know, P’Ink, but you only just did it now,” and then she trails off to a mumble as she adds, “Right after writing that article with P’Song.”

That makes even less sense than the Instagram thing, which is at least an issue that they’ve talked about, and Ink squints and leans forward in confusion, pulling their joined hands closer to her and trailing her sleeve in the remaining cake.

Paa reads it on her face, bites her lip, and says, “P’Song’s really fashionable and you said she’s done all that cool, journalism stuff? Because she went back to do her masters degree after working abroad. And that lunch at her place was so fancy and her apartment’s fancy too and she’s so tall.”

Over the course of the explanation Ink goes through a variety of emotions – she moves from confusion to realisation to fond amusement, because Paa’s jealous? Jealous of Ink and Song, when their working styles are so different that some of their classmates were worried they’d kill each other when they were assigned the article together?

But the amusement stops very abruptly at the final line.

“You think she’s tall?”

Paa likes tall girls.

“She’s at least two inches shorter than-“

“P’Ink.”

#robfic #bad buddy #inkpaa

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miwsolovely · 8 months ago

Text

—LOVERBOY

pairing: kyle ‘gaz’ garrick x fem!reader

contains: fluff, hc format, kyle being the best lover ever, implications that you and kyle live together, no mentions of yn, mentions of injuries, brief mentions of an asshole past relationship, kyle treating you the way you deserve and more

summary: kyle learns his girlfriend is a figure skater

wc: 1k

a/n: kyle my beloved

a/n 2: requested <3 | this isn’t as long as i want it to be :((

when you two started dating, he was (and still is!) the purest, more beautiful, gentlemen ever.

im talking opening doors for you, treating you to your favorite things (even if you didn’t ask for them) just to see you smile

“here, got your favorite,” he’d say while behind you, shaking an arm around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder.

a tiny box was placed next to you on the counter where you stood in front of the stove, watching the pasta boil. the box was the type of thing that contained small things like a muffin or a cupcake. it had a small bow at the top as well.

“you didn’t have to get me anything,” you turn your head slightly to the side to see his growing smile, and you can’t help but reciprocate it.

“didn’t have to, i know.” he says while turning you around with his hands on your hips. “wanted to.” he rests his forehead on yours and smiles at seeing your smile. then his lips meet yours.

he was surprised at first, when he asked you about your hobbies, and you said figure skating.

but he was happier than the happiest man alive because his lover was a figure skater.

“i figure skate.” you say, flipping a page of your book. you hear silence for a moment, then hurried footsteps to your place on the couch.

you look up and see kyle in all his glory staring at you with a surprised expression on his face.

“you figure skate?” he asks walking the length of the couch to reach you. When he does, he squats in front of you and places his hands on your thighs. firm.

“i do, yeah,” you say worriedly, slowly closing your book and meeting his eyes. “why? is that—is that bad? i mean—”

“bad?” he looks at you as if you’d just told him the sky was green. “love, that’s amazing, what do you mean bad?”

now you are the one surprised. yes, kyle wasn’t your first lover, but the one before him was nothing like him. he was rude and got mad when you mentioned you figure skate. saying it was extremely expensive and wasn’t willing to keep you afloat with his money after you spent all yours on figure skating fees.

“nothing, i just,” you avert your eyes to your lap and start playing with his fingers on your thighs. “just thought that you would want me to . . .”

“quit?” he finishes for you. he reaches a hand out to your chin and uses it to guide your face to meet his. “darling, figure skating is an art, it’s beautiful. why would i make you quit something you love?”

he’d be your number one (in everything)

would go to each and every one of your practices, competitions, etc.

would video, take pictures, everything.

“wait come back, the lighting is really good here. perfect”

wouldn’t even think to care, if you did or didn’t win gold. if you won gold, you’d get a trip to your favorite restaurant. if you didn’t win gold, a trip to your favorite restaurant.

“my girl won gold,” he says wrapping an arm around your waist and laying his hand on your hip.

“gold? kyle this is bronze…” you say looking up at him with glossy eyes.

“all the same in my eyes. plus, the scorers were definitely bribed.”

“kyle!”

say you got injured during practice or a competition, he’d be the first person on the ice to maybe sure you’re okay. skates or not, his baby got hurt.

security would hold him down, yeah, but he’d probably almost (and i mean a big almost) fight them to get to you but even though, i don’t feel like he’d be the type to use force to get to you in this situation but if he does,

he’d stop once he sees/knows you’re okay.

“sir i’m going to ask you to step back, we have it handled.”

“handled? if you have it handled then why is she still on the bloody floor?”

you’d notice what was going on and would hop (as best as you can on skates + the ice) to him being mindful of your ankle that you twisted and reassure him.

“kyle, baby, i’m okay,” you say. “they’re gonna take me to the infirmary, you’ll meet me there yeah?”

continuing on this^^, he’d treat you like even more of a queen since you’re injured.

“you comfortable? want me to refill your drink love?”

you’d laugh and say “yes butler, feed me grapes and refill my drink. oh! and get me the heads of my enemies as well.”

“ha ha, very funny you brat.” he said as he threw a throw pillow at you.

- please do not plagiarize, copy, or repost my works to other platforms !

- likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated <3 !!

©miwsolovely

#. ( cod masterlist. )#cod x reader #x reader #fem!reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle cod #kyle garrick #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #gaz x fem!reader #hc format #fluff

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the-magicians-blue · 2 years ago

Note

Ohhhh what would Micah do if his angel got caught up in a sticky situation?

Like they're hanging out with some work friends and things so go south? Maybe they got drunk or someone got mad and something bad starts happening?and he finds out because they were calling him so he overhears a little bit of the problem starting and then the call drops?

(I figured it could be anything you want. Like maybe a fight starts or someone starts harassing them. Whatever you think would be most angsty)

… I hope you know you’ve now summoned “might be a little crazy” Micah. This man would flip a city upside down if anything ever happened to you.

Warning: kidnapping and mentions of tr*fficking

6:21am

Was he overreacting? Maybe. Did he care? No. Someone threatened your safety, they had to suffer the consequences. It was their fault for messing with the partner of one of the best hackers in the world.

You had went out for drink with some of your college friends and things were going well. You being drunk and missing Micah, you decided to call him. He couldn’t help but giggle at how cute you we’re being, slurring all over your words.

“Oh angel, you’re wasted aren’t you?”

“Whaaaaa? I don’t know what you’rrere talking about I am perfectly fine!”

“Suurrre.”

You kept Micah on the phone with you as you and your friends waited outside for the ride you ordered. The conversation was fine until he suddenly heard one of your friends started fussing at the driver about going the wrong way. He the heard a car door open, a scream, some struggling and then nothing.

“Angel? Y/N!” The call dropped. Micah began to panic. However that panic quickly turned into anger and determination. He immediately started to ping your phone and noticed the phone was still moving. Whoever had you left your phone in the car like an idiot. It didn’t take long for him to hack into the riding services system to find the phone of the person who picked you up. He now knew exactly where you were, and where you were headed. All he needed now was an extraction plan.

When you had awoke after being knocked out you were tied up in a living room with two of your other friends. The place looked like a apartment in the more expensive part of town. Whoever took you had to be someone with money. There were two men looking at the three of you conversing amongst themselves.

“How much you think we’ll get for them?”

“I think we’ll get a good profit off of ‘em. They’re pretty decent looking… especially that one.” The man was eyeing you up and down and you couldn’t help but shudder in disgust. Suddenly a very familiar voice rang throughout the entire room. Not only was it coming from the phones of the two kidnappers, but from the computer on the desk off in the corner, and the bluetooth speaker they were previously blasting music from to cover any screams.

“Sorry boys, but you won’t be earning anything tonight.” It was Micah, though you weren’t be surprised he managed to find you, you surprised he did it that quickly. The two men were suddenly on edge quickly looking around them.

“Now here’s how this is going to go. You two are going to return any items you took from these lovely people and you are going to let them go downstairs to the car that is waiting downstairs to take them home.” The men started laughing at him.

“Oh? And what makes you think we’ll do that?” After a few seconds of silence the two mens’ shirts were suddenly littered with little red lights.

“Well unless you’d like to repaint the walls in that apartment with your blood I think it’ll be in your best interest to cooperate.” The calm, calculated tone Micah was using was intimidating to say the least.

One of the men scoffed. “Oh please, h-he’s bluffing!” Moments later on of the windows shatter as a bullet flies through, shooting one of the men in the foot.

“Think I’m bluffing now, asshole?” The second man scrambled to untie you and your friends as the other was on the floor, wailing in pain as he held his foot. The man quickly gave you back your phones and wallets

“See now wasn’t that easy? Now my friends are gonna keep an eye on you two until the police arrive. I’ve already sent them all the files of the people you’ve taken. If you’re gonna sell stuff on the black market your should really use a more secure sever ya know. Oh and Good luck trying to afford a lawyer! All of your money has been split up and given to these three lovely people as compensation for your little stunt.”

Micah started laughing as the computer screen behind the men come to life. You could see their bank accounts getting emptied and the police already in route to the building. You and your friends quickly left the apartment and just as promised there was a car that took you all home. The whole car ride your friends were talking about who could’ve possibly saved them. You knew exactly who it was but you really didn’t wanna explain how your boyfriend manage to not only find you but find gunmen for his little plan in roughly two hours.

The next day Micah was at your front door, still extremely worried about your safety. He he wanted to confirm with his own eyes that you were ok and just video calling wasn’t gonna be enough. Honestly you were relieved to see him. After everything that happened you felt most safe with Micah here with you. But, the was just one question that had been nagging you that whole night.

“Micah… where did all those gun men come from?” Micah looked at you for a second before answering

“Trust me angel, you don’t wanna know.”

#error143 #micah yujin #please play error143!#micah yujin x reader #micah x reader

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noteguk · 4 years ago

Text

any way you want it | kth | m

— summary; in which your best friend, Taehyung, finds out about your unsatisfying sexual experiences and decides to put an end to that track record himself.

— contents and warnings; smut, childhood best friends, Taehyung x reader, bigdick!tae, breast play, oral (f receiving), dry grinding, dirty talk, tae has a praise kink, unprotected sex (be responsible!!), rough sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, Taehyung takes things personally but he has good intentions, this is what happens when mutual thirst gets suppressed for years of friendship

— words; 6.6k

— author’s note; i have no idea why but this fic was so fucking hard to put down into words??? I felt mentally constipated the entire time but it’s finally here

Taehyung wasn’t the slightest bit surprised when you called him at almost two in the morning, complaining about your newest nightmarish date and practically begging to come over. Like the good friend that he was, he made sure to tell you that you would be more than welcome to join him in his newest documentary marathon about aliens, and wondered if you could bring him some takeout on your way over there. Like the bad friend that you were, you said no.

To be fair, the nearest takeout place was across the city from his apartment (about thirty minutes away and in a bad neighborhood), and you were already having a horrible night as it was. Besides, you refused to take part in Taehyung’s search for a high blood pressure and cholesterol levels, arguing that it wasn’t the right time to stuff his face full of hypercaloric noodles.

But you did pity him enough to comply with his second request: a big pot of vanilla ice cream, which you were sure you’d end up consuming too. You were in a crisis.

As if to prove that the gods above were laughing at you, during the walk of shame to Taehyung’s apartment, it had started to rain (because of course it did), and your umbrella was only able to save you from the shoulders up before it crumbled and flew away from your gasp, rolling on the asphalt like a ball of dirt in a Wild West movie. By the time that you dragged yourself to his front door, you were completely soaked (and not in the way you had planned for that night to end), and about to break down crying.

Taehyung, like the angel that he was, helped you with your heavy coat and talked you into taking a warm shower before you got sick. He took the supermarket bag from you (where the ice cream had probably already melted) and walked you to this bathroom, excusing himself so he could grab you some dry clothes — and you only saw the ones he had picked when you got out of the shower.

With a silly smile dancing on your lips, you fumbled with the black booty shorts that Taehyung had jokingly gifted you that past Christmas — one that read “daddy’s juicy butt” in big, bold, neon pink letters over your ass — and then decided that your dignity was already dead by that point, so another kick wouldn’t hurt. Taehyung had also given you one of his favorite band shirts, which he only revealed during desperate times.

Your heart melted with the thought of your best friend trying to comfort you, and pulled the fabric close to your face so you could take a deep inhale, drowning in his scent. It smelled of that stupid cologne that Taehyung had used ever since he hit puberty, and a bit of fabric softener.

The two of you had an extremely close friendship, to the point that it got kind of strange at times. Ever since childhood, it was joked that you and Taehyung had been long lost soulmates — doing everything together, from going to school to laughing at the same exact jokes during movie marathons, often at the same moment and for the same amount of time. Before puberty hit (and the hormonal rage took over your first teenage years) you couldn’t remember disagreeing with him even once. You two had always been in sync.

But the uncomfortably close part only hit after you two went to college, and your anxiety for being a virgin in a sea of starving sharks got the best of you. After long conversations, you had managed to convince Taehyung to help you learn a thing or two about the art of naked wrestling.

Apparently it was weird to give your best friend a handjob and a blowjob for the sake of education. Go figure.

Regardless, your friendship wasn’t affected by any of that — even if you two had agreed to never mention any of it ever again — and you could always count on Taehyung to catch you when you fell.

Even if it was at two am on a Tuesday, after one of your nightmarish dates.

You threw yourself on the couch next to him, hugging your knees against your chest to form a barrier between you and the divine providence that had taken you to that point. You had half-assedly dried your hair, but pools of wetness had started to build on the back of Taehyung’s shirt.

Instead of accusing you of ruining his favorite piece of clothing, Taehyung reached for the remote and paused his documentary just as the narrator was starting to explain how hieroglyphs were actually part of an alien language. “Just tell me how bad it was,” he said, a mustache of ice cream melting over his top lip.

You took a peek at the bowl of melting vanilla on his center table, and decided that you would probably pass the desert for the night.

You glanced at him sideways, voice coming out monotone. “You sure you want to go down that path?”

Taehyung licked his sweet mustache off and nodded, clearly intrigued. “Yeah, hit me with it. You look like you need all the help that you can find.”

You sighed, turning around on the couch so you were facing him — legs still against your chest. “Okay so… I went to his place...”

“Yes…”

“And... we had dinner, talked for a bit.”

“How was the talk?” He asked.

You shook your head, trying to kill the memories inside. “He didn’t let me say a word. He just went on and on about this new website he’s working on, and how expensive his wine glasses were.” You scoffed, angry at yourself for ignoring the clear red flags of an arrogant douchebag. That was what the desperate need for immediate human connection could do to someone, you thought. “Apparently it’s supposed to be the next Facebook or something. Or twitter. I honestly wasn’t paying much attention.”

He chuckled. “Starting off strong.”

“That wasn’t even the main issue,” you said, lowering your forehead so it was touching your knees. You just wanted the world to end at that moment, so you wouldn’t have to go through those experiences again. “After that, we sat on his couch and started watching a movie. And you know how that goes, we started kissing, he pushed me down and got on top of me…”

“And?” He instigated.

With a sigh, you raised your head, meeting your friend’s gaze. Taehyung thought he had never seen you look so dead inside. And he had seen a lot from you. “And he humped like… my lower abdomen for about three minutes and came in his pants.”

Taehyung cringed visibly, taking one hand to cover his mouth. “Oh, man. That’s bad.”

You nodded, strangely relieved at his reaction. Part of you was worried that you were the evil witch in that scenario, that maybe you had done something wrong. “The worst,” you agreed. “Wanna know what else?”

“What? There’s more?”

“He didn’t even ask me if I was satisfied with whatever the hell that was.” You told him, bitterness dripping from your tongue. In the grand scheme of things, that was something silly to get mad over, but the fact that your date didn’t even have the guts to ask if you had gotten something out of that was ridiculous. “Not that I could possibly be. But it’s like he didn’t care and I was just a pillow for him to hump like a… sexually repressed religious teen, I don’t know.”

Taehyung only nodded, realizing that there wasn’t much that he could say to fix the situation. “Was he a good kisser at least?”

You sneered. “I think he was trying to crush my face with his.” You glanced at your friend, only half of his face bathed by the yellow and orange shades coming from the television. Maybe a documentary about ancient history and alien expeditions wouldn’t be so bad. Worst case scenario, it would knock you out, and you wouldn’t have to think about that mess anytime soon. “Also, too much tongue, just… the amount of saliva…”

“Got it. You can stop there.” Taehyung raised one hand, his eyes closing for a second. His palm lowered and met one of your knees, standing there in a silent attempt at consolation. “I’m sorry about your terrible date experience, dude.”

“If you could even call it that.” You ran one hand through your hair, suddenly overtaken by a wave of anger. “God! I was just… so… ugh! Like… ughhhh!!”

Taehyung, bless his heart, sometimes couldn’t understand the random neanderthal sounds you threw his way. “So... what?”

At last, your makeshift protection came crumbling down, and you collapsed on the couch dramatically, legs dangling off the edge. Taehyung thought that you were being possessed for exactly two seconds before you started talking again. “I did a full body shave for this night, Taehyung. Do you realize what that means?” His lips fell open, but, before he had the chance to answer, you continued. “It means that I really wanted to get railed tonight. Actually, I wanted to find a guy who actually knew what he was doing for once in my life.”

Taehyung chuckled, trying to disperse the tension in the room. “Come on, the dating pool can’t be that bad.”

“Oh, it’s bad,” you said.

He wasn’t giving up that fast. “How bad?”

You raised your head to look him dead in the eyes, a silent threat, before finally uttering, “Try no-man-has-ever-made-me-cum bad,” and crashing your head back against the sofa.

If you weren’t so hyper-focused on your own sexual melodrama, you would have noticed the thick silence that fell between the two of you, Taehyung’s face contorting into fifty different emotions within a few seconds. He thought that he had heard it all — from the secrets hidden in Machu Picchu to the obvious extraterrestrial influence on earthy religion — but no amount of bad documentaries could ever prepare him for that revelation. That didn’t make any sense.

“Wait. Seriously?” He finally found his voice and managed to push his doubt out of his throat. “You’ve never had an orgasm before?”

You chuckled, humorless. “Oh no, I’ve had plenty of those. Just not from another person.”

“How’s that possible?” he asked.

“I ask myself that every single day.” You sighed, forcing yourself to sit back up. Taehyung was staring at you like you had just grown two extra arms, and you wondered what an amazing sex life he must’ve had for that confession to get him so confused. “Guess I’m just really bad at picking partners, who knows.”

There was a soft grunt on your throat as you fixed your position on the couch, suddenly feeling the exhaustion of your entire day piling up at once. Your gaze mindlessly traveled to the TV — a big plasma monstrosity that Taehyung had bought compulsively during a Black Friday sale — looking at a white-bearded man pointing maniacally towards a specific, round-shaped hieroglyph. You didn’t even need to hit play to know that he was making it seem like it was an UFO, but curiosity got the best of you.

“Can you pass me the remote?” You asked, pointing at the small device that laid beyond Taehyung’s body. “I kinda wanna see what—”

“I’ve made tons of girls have orgasms,” Taehyung interrupted, looking at you like he had just clicked out of a transe.

You laughed at his monotone voice. “I’m happy for you, Tae.” You leaned over his legs so you could finally reach the remote. “That wasn’t a jab at your masculinity, I’m sure you’re a very caring partner, and I’m sure there’s tons of guys out there that—”

“I can make you cum too, if you want.”

You had just grabbed the small piece of plastic when his sentence hit you like a smack in the face, making you drop the remote back on the couch, eyes widening. “You… what?”

He suddenly broke eye contact, taking one hand to massage the back of his neck. “Did that sound as creepy as I think it did?”

“A bit, yeah.” You forced out a light chuckle, trying to break the ice. There was no sign of mockery in his voice, and you didn’t know how to react. You could not say that the offer wasn’t tempting (you’d be lying if you claimed that you didn’t think Taehyung was attractive), but his proposal was so oddly-placed that it sounded like a joke. “What are you talking about?”

Taehyung sighed, turning his head to look at the television. “I just think it’s really unfair that no one has ever made you cum before.”

You smiled. “That’s very nice of you, but…”

“And I want to help you with that.” He looked back at you. Oh, he was being a hundred percent serious. There was no longer a single ounce of doubt in your mind. “We’re friends, it’s not gonna be weird. We’ve done similar stuff before.”

“We were a lot younger, though.” You didn’t know why your mouth suddenly felt so dry, your fight or flight response kicking at full strength. You could tell that Taehyung was also trying to convince himself about the strangeness of the situation. “It’s gonna be kind of weird, yeah.”

“Not if we don’t make it weird,” he threw back. Was it bad that you were actually considering it? Maybe it was the piled-up exhaustion combined with the years of sexual frustration, maybe you were finally out of your mind. But you were really considering it. “I don’t wanna pressure you, alright? Just making a friendly offer. If you don’t want it, that’s fine.”

You kind of wanted it, though. There was too much accumulated libido inside you from years and years of unsatisfying partners, and you trusted Taehyung with your entire heart. It sounded like a safe enough bet: if all went to shit and it got too awkward, you two could just stop, no hard feelings. Besides, you knew that Taehyung cared about you, which was more than you could say about all your dates in the past couple years.

And the more you stared at him, probably looking like a deer in the headlights, the more you grew soft under his presence. At once, you were hit with desires that you had never considered before: you wanted to kiss those soft lips, wanted to know how his large hands would feel around you. You really, really wanted to know how it was to have a good sexual experience with someone, and you couldn’t think of a better candidate than your best friend. Even if you still thought it could be seen as a little bit weird.

But you also kind of didn’t care.

You licked your lips, finally finding your voice after a long moment of silence. “How… how would you do it?”

Taehyung turned his head and looked at you, noticing the expectation in your eyes. “How would you want me to do it?” He asked.

You tried to think, but your mind was completely blank. What did you want him to do? What did you like? Suddenly you weren’t sure about anything anymore. “I don’t know,” you admitted, glancing down.

Taehyung smiled at your nervousness, one of his hands moving to your chin and tilting your head up. “How ‘bout I start by kissing you?” He questioned, gaze flickering to your parted lips. “Is that alright?”

There were no words in your throat, so you simply nodded, closing your eyes as he leaned in.

Taehyung’s mouth tasted of vanilla and you thought, even for a moment, that you were in paradise. The second that his tender lips met yours, your anxiety melted away, giving space to a newfound flame of desire. Taehyung kissed you softly, sensually, taking his time caressing your mouth and drowning in your heat. His hand moved to the back of your head, pressing you closer to him and leaning your head to the side so he could deepen the kiss.

He sighed heavily into your mouth when your tongues met, his other hand moving to hold your waist. The position on the couch was kind of awkward for kissing, with the two of you sitting side by side, so it wasn’t an unwelcome surprise when Taehyung tugged you onto his lap, making you straddle him.

The kiss was starting to get hungrier, messier, a small whimper dying in your mouth when his palms traveled down to cup your ass, pressing you down against his semi-hard cock. Taehyung sighed and groaned at the feeling of you on top of him, loving the way that your fingers played with his hair, your body so perfectly tight against his. If there was any hesitation before, it had completely vanished by that point.

It caught you off guard when he suddenly broke off the kiss to ask you, “Do you like any pet names?”

You blinked, taken aback. “Hm? What?”

He placed a strand of your hair behind your ear. “You know, you want me to call you by something?”

You realized that Taehyung was really taking that personal service to a different level, and you couldn’t say that you were let down by it. If any of your past partners had the dignity to ask what you liked, you wouldn’t be in that position in the first place. “I… like being called ‘baby’,” you told him.

Taehyung smiled. “That’s cute. Baby it is.”

Before you had a chance to respond, Taehyung’s lips were back on yours, a dreamy sigh leaving his mouth as your tongues met once again. Only a few seconds passed before he shifted his weight to lay you down, never breaking the kiss as he positioned himself between your legs, hovering over you. Taehyung started trailing a path of kisses down your neck, his large hands slithering beneath your oversized shirt and caressing the skin of your stomach.

“Can I take this off?” He asked, tugging at your shirt.

You agreed and, within a heartbeat, that piece of clothing was already on the floor, and Taehyung was diving in to kiss the valley of your naked breasts. You moaned timidly when one of your nipples was wrapped by his lips, his tongue coming out to play with it. Taehyung’s other hand was occupied fondling your other breast, tugging and pressing down on it, and the sensations were taking over your mind.

“You have great tits,” Taehyung mumbled against your skin, switching to mouth your other nipple.

“I’m glad you like them,” you teased, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. You were letting out these cute little whimpers that were making him lose his mind. “Feels really good.”

“Yeah?” He asked, moving back to kiss his way up your neck. His tongue was hot and heavy as it danced on your skin, and you knew that those sucks he was giving you were surely gonna leave a few marks on your flesh. But you didn’t really care. “Gonna make you feel even better, baby.”

Your eyes fluttered shut at the pet name — it sounded heavenly when Taehyung used it with his deep, honeyed voice; his warm breath hitting your neck as he continued with his ministrations.

He kissed his way to your cheek, placing a small pec on your lips before saying, “Can you do something for me?”

You nodded. “What is it?”

Instead of responding right away, Taehyung’s gaze fell to your lips, and he was once again attacking them. That time, you weren’t able to hold back the whimper that you let out, your panties already glued against your core with how much he was turning you on.

One of his hands had trailed down your exposed abdomen, teasingly playing with the hem of your shorts. You held your breath when he tugged them down, bringing your underwear with it and throwing them somewhere in the living room. Taehyung grunted loudly when his fingers slipped past your folds, digging into your heat. His brain almost short-circuited because of how wet you were.

He broke the kiss and looked you deep in the eyes. “I want you to sit on my face, baby,” he said, and his request shot straight to your core. “Let me take care of you, okay?”

“Are you sure?” You asked. You had never done that before.

But Taehyung wasn’t sharing your reluctance. “Yeah,” he said, voice hoarse and eyes darkened. “Wanna taste you so bad. Sit on my face, please.”

And you didn’t need any more convincing than that. Taehyung helped you get up from the couch so he could reposition himself on it, laying flat on his back and watching as you settled yourself above him, thighs on either side of his head. The couch was the exact size for that, a little smaller and you’d have one leg dangling off the edge.

Taehyung took his hands to your thighs, running them up to your hips. His eyes were focused on your pussy, and you never felt so exposed when he started pressing you down lightly, guiding you closer to his mouth.

You held the back of the couch for support and did as he requested, lowering yourself until Taehyung had you flat on his tongue. Your breath trembled and caught in your throat when he licked a thick stripe from your entrance to your clit, humming around the taste before doing it again. Taehyung was an expert at erasing your worries because, with a few more licks, he had you fully losing yourself in his sinful ministrations.

It wasn’t long until you were whining out his name, your folds lazily dragging against his tongue as you started to grind on his face. “God, Taehyung!” You called out, hand coming down to tug at his hair. Taehyung grunted in satisfaction, the vibrations of his deep voice sending shockwaves through your pussy. “That’s… that’s really nice. You’re really good at this.”

He moaned in response, closing his eyes at your words. Taehyung was eating you out like his mouth was made for it, like he was starving for your taste and you were all that he could think about. He licked you from your entrance to your clit, playing with your sensitive spots and enjoying the tremors of pleasure that ran through your thighs, his hands locked tight around your hips. You sobbed and cried over him, making special effort to keep your legs steady as you rocked yourself on his tongue.

It was only when he decided to suck on your clit that you realized how absurdly close you were. You clenched your teeth and whined out, yanking his hair harder. “Do that again, please,” you asked and Taehyung, like the good friend that he was, was quick to comply. Taehyung wrapped his mouth around your clit in a way that had you trembling over him, licking and sucking on your sensitive nub like his life depended on it. “Fuck, that’s so good, Tae. Feels so good…”

He moaned again, more desperate this time, and some part of your mind understood the pattern that he was presenting you: Taehyung really, really liked your compliments. And you had no problem giving away any more of them.

“You’re licking me so well, Tae, you’re gonna make me cum like this,” you told him, meaning every word you said. Taehyung was a Greek god beneath you, staring up at you with those dark, focused eyes as if he dared you to cum on his tongue. “God! You’re so good for me.”

And then your praises ran thin, because your mind was gravitating somewhere else — seeking for the high that was dangerously close. It was only when Taehyung started toying with your entrance, brushing two of his fingers on it, that you came undone, crying out his name like it was a personal prayer.

There was a smirk on your mouth as you came down, a flooding relief that overtook you. You never thought that you could come so hard in your life, especially when it depended on another person, and you were so, so happy to be wrong that you could cry.

With shaky legs, you removed yourself from Taehyung’s face, straddling his lap and watching as his lips glistened with your arousal. His pink tongue came out to lick them, a hum on his throat as he took in your fucked-out expression.

“You did so well, baby,” he said, placing one of his hands on your waist. “Come here.”

Obedient, you leaned in and sighed as his mouth met yours. This time, Taehyung didn’t wait to eagerly insert his tongue inside your mouth, making you taste yourself on him.

He pulled away leisurely, his voice hoarse. “Can you taste how sweet you are?” He asked. “I loved making you cum on my tongue, baby. You looked so pretty.”

Taehyung breathed out, planting kisses on your neck, one hand trailing down to squeeze your ass. You whined at his tight grip and pressed yourself down on him, feeling his hard cock poking out against the fabric of his sweats.

Taehyung groaned at the stimulation, pressing down on your asscheek again. You rolled your hips on top of him, wincing in sensitivity as his member brushed your clit. “Loved your pussy so much, baby,” he continued, sounding like he was lost in a daydream, “I can’t wait to be inside you. Bet you’d be so tight for my cock, hm?”

“Yeah,” you managed to speak. Even if you had just reached your orgasm, you were still aching to feel something inside you. You wanted Taehyung more than you could understand. “I want you to fuck me, Tae, please.”

He breathed out, his hands tightening around your flesh as you rolled your pussy against his cock once again. Taehyung looked like he was one heartbeat away from completely losing his self control, and hearing you beg for him to fuck you wasn’t doing him any favors. “Gonna need to lie down for me, baby,” he asked.

With a few more shifts on the couch, Taehyung had you beneath him once again, your legs open for him as he removed his shirt and pants. It wasn’t long before his cock sprung free from its confinement, standing erect. You licked your lips at the lustful sight, pussy clenching in anticipation as you took him in — Taehyung was big. Bigger than anyone you’ve ever had, that’s for sure; long and thick and already leaking for you.

You would’ve cried out in need if he didn’t interrupt you. “What are you looking at?” Taehyung asked, the ghost of a smile creeping up on his lips.

Your stare oscillated toward his own. “That’s why you have such a good track record, your cock is huge.” You bit your lip, thinking about how good he would feel inside you. You didn’t know how it was possible, but you were pretty sure the last time you’ve seen his cock — back in the dark ages of your freshman year of college — it wasn’t as big as that. Or maybe you just didn’t have anything to compare it to.

“Hey, I just used my tongue on you, don’t ignore my efforts,” Taehyung teased, wrapping one of his hands around his member so he could pump himself a few times. The playful atmosphere swiftly shifted back, and, when he spoke up again, his voice was deeper. “You think you can take it?”

“Yeah, I can,” you said. You couldn’t be sure, but you were sure going to try.

Taehyung hummed, moving a bit closer so he could brush his tip against your pussy, coating it with your wetness. You closed your eyes in expectation, knowing that you’d love the stretch he would give you.

“You want it?” He asked, a touch of desperation covering his words. Taehyung was nearing his breaking point, and the fluttering of your pussy on his cock was making him go insane. “Want my cock inside your tight little cunt, baby?”

You nodded, frantic. The brushing of his thick tip on your hole was becoming too much, your walls clenching around nothing, seeking for something to fill you up. “Yes, fuck, I want it so bad.”

“Are you tight for me, baby?” He was trying to prolong that moment for as much as he could, keep the pretty face you made when you pleaded for him to fuck you burned in the back of his head. Making you cum once was a victory he would take forever, but making you cum around his cock might as well be his life’s biggest achievement. “Ready for me to fuck you?”

You cried out when he started pressing himself inside you, guiding his crown inside your pussy, then stopping. “Yes, Tae, just put it all in, please,” you whined, hands fumbling for support on his broad shoulders. Taehyung already had you clenching around nothing, you didn’t know what else he wanted from you. “Please, please, fuck me.”

Taehyung chuckled, looking down at where you two met. He was only human, and his self control was short lived. “Since you asked so nicely…”

Your back arched off the sofa as you felt the delicious drag of his large cock inside you, opening you up gradually, taking its time before filling you up to the brim. You gasped and sobbed at the overwhelming feeling, nails digging on the skin of his back as Taehyung groaned besides your ear.

“Fuck, that’s so good.” He let out a shaky breath, and you swore you never heard his voice get so husky before. “I just slipped right in. You’re so fucking wet.”

Your mind was an apocalypse of confused thoughts and forgotten exclamations, eyes fluttering shut as you dove into the sensation of Taehyung inside you — his hips angling backwards, tilting up just enough so he could move himself away from you core, only to come slamming back inside. The stretch of his cock was amazing, it was making you drunk, and all that you could think about was how much pleasure it was giving you.

“So-So big—“ you muttered, half aware that the words actually left your lips.

“How do you like it, uh?” Taehyung asked, his voice dripping sin and hunger. You could tell that he, too, was getting carried away by the feeling, his hips rutting themselves against you at a lazy pace. “Gonna give it to you any way you want it, baby.”

You bit your lip, a small moan leaving your mouth when Taehyung leaned closer to you, distributing hot kisses on your neck. You swore you’d be happy if you died then. “I like it rough,” you answered.

He groaned, apparently satisfied with your response. “Whatever you want.”

Taehyung got to his knees on the couch, deciding to put one foot on the ground for support, his hands raising your hips to help him reach even deeper inside you. Faster than your brain could compute, the shallow, lazy pace he had sat was being replaced with a harsh, fast pumping that made you cry out his name, eyes closing in sheer bliss.

“Tae! Yes, yes, just like that,” you sobbed, running one hand through your hair. You felt like your body was floating, every cell of your body overheating with the amazing pleasure that Taehyung was giving you. You never had someone fucking you so hard, his cock pistoning inside you, your body bobbing up and down on the couch.

Taehyung’s eyes were glued to the bouncing of your breasts as he continued to fuck you, a deep groan leaving his chest. “That’s it, take it,” he moaned out, quickening his pace even more. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, mouth opening in a silent scream. “Gonna make you cum so hard around my cock, baby. Gonna fuck you until you cry. Want that?”

“Yes, yes, please,” you moaned. “Feels so good, Tae.”

“You like my cock, baby? Like it filling you up?” He asked and you could only nod pathetically, your entire body too fucked out to even respond. “F-fuck, your pussy is so good. Tell me that you love my cock.”

“I love your cock,” you whined, feeling like a complete hot mess under his thrusts. “I — fuck! — I love your cock so much, Tae, it’s so big.”

Your words motivated him to fuck you even harder, his member hitting even deeper inside you. Taehyung was getting lost in the stretch of your pussy around him, the glorious sounds you were making, the lust that coated your face every time you called out his name.

“Shit, I don’t know how anyone could look at you like this and not want to see that pretty face cum.” He was breathing out hard, grunting every time your cunt tightened around him. Taehyung wanted to see you like that forever, taking his cock like a good girl, creaming all over him and begging to do it again. You were wrapping around him so perfectly, taking all of him so well, that he didn’t think he’d manage to move on from that anytime soon. “So fucking hot.”

Taehyung chased after your high like a starving man looking for food, experimentally changing the angle and force of his thrusts to see what would get the best reaction out of you. At last, after a pathetically loud cry from your part after he raised your legs up, it seemed as if he had found it. “I bet you’d be so tight cumming around my cock, baby,” he was thinking out loud at that point, trying to make sense of the pretty sounds and expressions you were giving him so eagerly. He wanted nothing more than to see you cum — it was personal at that point. “I wanna feel you cum around me, baby. Wanna feel it so bad.”

“I’m c-close.” Your nails dug into his shoulders, eyes closing tightly. There was a light heat in your cheeks and sweat on your forehead that was making Taehyung wonder if you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. “You’re so good, T-Tae, you’re fucking me so well…”

Taehyung thought that he could cum right then and there, pushed over the edge with those sweet words alone. He loved being good to you, loved making you feel things that no one else managed to before. He was intoxicated by that sense of superiority, drowning in your praise. He wished that he could fuck you forever.

“Cream my cock, baby, come on,” he pushed you on, his words hanging somewhere between an order and a breathless plea. You were getting so tight around him that it was making him crazy, your wetness coating his cock and dripping down between your legs like his own personal brand of aphrodisiac. “You can do it, come on. I wanna see you cum so bad.”

You smiled at him, a cute, fucked-out smirk that made Taehyung go to heaven and back. “So good for me, Tae, you’re so big,” you said, your voice so needy and high-pitched. Your orgasm was looming over you, pressing down on your lower body and making you see stars. It was only a matter of time before Taehyung got you crying out his name, back arching off the couch and mouth falling open in delirium. “Tae! Fuck! Don’t stop, please, I’m gonna—“

But your warning came a second too late, because you were already spasming around his length, body shaking as Taehyung thrusted hard inside you. Just as expected, you were absolutely fucking gorgeous when you came — all quivering lips and rolling eyes —, and Taehyung was beyond satisfied to know that he was the only one who saw that pretty face of yours.

“That’s it, baby, fuck.” Taehyung was starting to feel his own high approaching, called by the delicious tightening and releasing of your pussy around him. His thrusts were messy and harsh; his sweaty hair falling over his eyes like a cascade. “Can I cum inside you, baby? Can I fuck you full of my cum?”

You noticed the desperation in his tone and, with the throbbing of his member inside you, you knew that he wasn’t far. “Yes, please,” you said. “You were so good for me, Tae, you can cum wherever you want.”

And it was that final taste of praise that pushed Taehyung over his limit; waves upon waves of cum filling you up as he rode out his high. “God— fuck!” He cried out, drunk on the feeling of your walls milking the last drops of cum out of his cock. A few lazy pumps later, and he was collapsing on top of you with a mumbled, “F-Fuck.”

There was an instant of silence after his orgasm, the quietude only filled by Taehyung’s heavy breathing. You took one hand to his head, caressing the strands as a smile blossomed on your lips. “Well, I believe you now,” you said playfully. “I’m sure you made a bunch of girls orgasm.”

Taehyung chuckled, breathless. “Thank you, I try,” he said, looking up at you. The darkness in his gaze was gone, and it was just your best friend staring back at you. “You alright?”

“I’m great,” you admitted. You never felt so good in your life. “You?”

“Fantastic, thanks for asking.” He leaned back so he could sit up, running one hand through his disheveled hair before saying, “I’m gonna grab you a towel, hang on.”

Taehyung left you for a couple minutes before coming back to clean you up, tenderly wiping away the mess you two had created. After he was done, he discarded the towel on the floor and crawled back to rest on your chest once again.

There was a comforting quietude that floated in the atmosphere, only filled by the muffled buzzing of his freezer and the vague sound of raindrops drumming on the window. You didn’t really know how to deal with that entire situation, didn’t know how things would stay between the two of you. But, at that point, you made the decision to keep those worries for the following morning and, instead, just enjoy his warmth radiating all around you.

The glorious silence, at last, was broken when Taehyung started mumbling against your breasts. “Hey, ___?” He called.

“Yeah?”

“How many dates have you been on?”

You hummed, thinking for a moment. “Ever?”

Taehyung made a clicking sound with his tongue. “I don’t know, like, this past year.”

“Uh… like… five or six? I think?” You answered, looking down to meet his gaze. You knew that wicked expression very well. “Why?”

He smiled. “Because we have a lot of shitty dates to make up for.”

#bts fic #bts smut #taehyung smut #taehyung fic #bts #taehyung #kim taehyung #taehyung x you #taehyung x reader #bts x you #bts x reader #reader insert #smut #au #taehyung au #bts au

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nyrandrea · 2 years ago

Text

Of Blood and Oil - Chapter 7

Summary: The little stray cat had brought salvation to the robotic inhabitants of the Walled City in their darkest hour, now it was time for them to return the favour.

(Takes place after the events of Stray, so there will be spoilers!)

Start from the beginning here!

Also available to read on AO3!

Clementine prided herself in being able to hold her nerve, even during high pressure situations, which made her the perfect candidate for dangerous missions and impossible circumstances.

Even so, she was finding it difficult to hide the tremble in her voice as she spoke to Zbaltazar.

“...Are you still there?”

“Hm?”

“I said that Momo has just came along to pick up the little ones.”

“Uh huh.”

“I think he said he’s coming your way with them.”

“Cool.”

The screens behind Zbaltazar’s limp form frowned. “Are you feeling quite alright, Clementine? You’ve barely said a word.”

Clementine didn’t even look up at them, her eyes focused solely on Zar himself. The way he hunched over looked so...painful. Then again, he couldn’t feel anything, could he? She couldn’t imagine what that was like, to have no control over your own body to the point that thinking is the only thing you can do all day. Trapped in your own RAM with all the time in the world to hate the one that left you like this.

“...You detest me, don’t you?”

That snapped Clementine out of it.

“What?! Of course not! Why would I?”

She didn’t even mean to sound so panicked, to sow the seeds of doubt into Zbaltazar’s head. But it felt like the more she opened her big mouth, the further into the rabbit hole she dug.

“We haven’t spoken since I got out. You have rarely looked at me since this call began. And judging by your vacant expression, I highly doubt you have listened to a word I’ve said.”

A silence fell between them as Clementine struggled to come up with an excuse.

“If...you don’t want to be friends anymore...”

“No! I do!”

“I would hold no ill will towards you.”

“Ugh! Why are you like this?!” Clementine finally exploded.

“...Like what?” Zbaltazar cautiously asked, like he was tentatively stepping around a bull in a china shop.

“Like...that! So forgiving! You should be mad at me! Why aren’t you shouting...blaming...hating me?!”

Clementine sighed in defeat.

“Would it make you feel better if I hated you?”

“I don’t know...maybe?”

“Then I hate you.”

Clementine frowned. “Say it like you mean it, then I might believe you.”

Zbaltazar let out a hearty chuckle, forcing a small smile out of her as he did.

“You got me,” the limp robot said. “But how can I blame you when you already do so much of that for me?”

She turned away.

“Clementine, it was only circumstances that made me like this. Bad luck. Being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Such is the way of things.”

“But it was me that forced you into it!” She argued. “If it wasn’t for me, you’d be...”

“Still like this. Because nobody forced me into anything. I wanted to go, Clem. We both knew the risk.”

“But you’re the one that’s had to live with the consequences.”

“In every single thing we do, we are choosing a direction. Our lives are a product of choice.”

Clementine huffed, trust Zar to get all philosophical on her.

“Please stop punishing yourself,” he said solemnly. “And me.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “That wasn’t fair on you.”

“It’s water under the bridge,” Zbaltazar said, a lighter tone to his voice.“So, will you be able to come over for a visit tomorrow? I can show you my crib, as the kids would say.”

“Sure, I’d love to.”

Zbaltazar waited a moment, like he was expecting a quick-witted remark at his expense as Clementine had a habit of doing in days gone past, frowning when it never came.

“Right, well, I look forward to it then.”

A knock at the door made Clementine frown as Zbaltazar smirked at her from the monitor.

“Good luuuuck~” the robot sang before ending the call.

“Good luck with wha—” she threw up her hands when the connection cut. The rapping at the door continued, growing in strength and frequency.

“Alright, alright! I’m coming!” Clementine shouted as she made her way through her messy apartment. Though she was in the process of building a home outside, she couldn’t bring herself to leave Midtown just yet. The place was...charming, in its own unique, sleazy way.

“What...?” She trailed off as she swung the door open to a beaming Momo cradling the little outsider, who looked as fed up as she did.

“...do you want?” she finished. Narrowing her eyes when that big, stupid grin wouldn’t leave his screen as he rocked the feline back and forth.

“I’m not in the market for adoption,” she said, moving to shut the door and groaning when his massive foot prevented her from doing so.

“It’s just for an hour!” Momo exclaimed before pausing to think. “Or two. Puweeaase?”

She gave him a disgusted look. “Just for that, absolutely not. Besides, I got stuff to do.”

“So do I!”

“Like....?”

“...Stuff!”

She rammed the door against his foot.

“Ow! Okay, okay! I maaaaay or may not have lost the other kitties and need to go find ‘em with Guardian’s help.”

Clementine face-palmed, shaking her head.

“What? He’s insanely good at tracking.”

“I-I don’t even—God, fine I’ll take him. Give him here,” she finally caved in, holding out her hands to take the mewing furball. “You better pray that you find them.”

Momo waved a dismissive hand. “Ahhhh, I’m sure they probably wanted to go back to Zbaltazar, you shoulda’ seen it, there were colourful fishes all over his monitors!”

“Right,” she said, absent-mindedly rubbing one of the little outsider’s paws with her thumb.

“Yeah!” Momo awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. “So, you two patched things up yet?”

Clementine raised a digital eyebrow. “There was nothing to patch up. We’re fine.”

“Right , right...” Momo nodded as he wrung his hands together before swiftly moving on, bending over slightly to wiggle his fingers at the cat. “Now yew be good for auntie Cwemmie, okay? Such a pwecious wittle—Ack!”

Slamming the door in his face, Clementine smirked as she carried her new tenant to the window, who in turn angled his head up to give her an unamused look.

“What? He deserved it,” the robot defended herself as she set the cat down onto some musty pillows. “Nobody calls me auntie Cwemmie and gets away with it.”

“Mrrrr?”

“Okay, except maybe you,” she said, looking around the apartment to make sure Momo hadn’t magically snuck in to witness what she was about to do. “Because yew are such a cutie patootie, aren’t ya?” the robot cooed with a big heart as she gently massaged his furry cheeks. “Look at that wittle smushy face!”

She could see why Momo did this now, but the attention didn’t last long as a shrill beep came from her pocket, instantly snapping her out of baby-talk mode as she answered it.

“Yeah? What’cha got?”

...

“Awesome, I owe ya one. Whereabouts did you say again?”

Grabbing a pen and paper, she hastily scribbled down an address. Gently shooing away the onslaught of attention seeking as those same furry cheeks rubbed against her hand as she tried to write. If it were any other situation, she would have relented, but this was too important to miss.

Hanging up, she took the little outsider’s face again, looking him straight in the eyes. “Now listen closely, I’ve gotta go...run an errand. So, you’re gonna be staying here yourself a little while—hey! Pay attention...!” she tried not to give in to his cute charms as he started licking her fingers.

“I’ll only be away for a little bit, in the meantime you take a nap or somethin’, Doc said you gotta rest, right?”

Before the orange tabby could get a word in, Clementine swiftly made her way out of the apartment and looked down at the piece of paper as she walked the neon-lit streets of Midtown, striding with new-found purpose.

‘I’m comin’ for you, Blazer.’

xxx

Much like the rest of the city, Midtown had been mostly abandoned, with a scarce few residents like Clementine only staying because they still had some work to attend to. Most had decided to try and move their businesses to the settlements beyond the wall, and judging by the empty buildings and shuttered shops; they had succeeded.

The city was golden in the light of eventide, as if it was nurturing some happy memory of times passed. It left a somewhat bittersweet feeling in Clementine’s core; pride that they’d finally freed themselves of a life dictated to them by drones and walls, resentment that it meant some traitorous sleazebags had managed to slip through the net.

Until today.

Rounding a corner into an alleyway, Clementine scanned the immediate area, frowning when only a few rats came scampering out the dumpsters as she double- triple -checked the address that was given to her.

Crap. Had she been duped again? Was everyone out to get her these days?

Seething with rage and preparing to add another name to her hit-list, the rev of an engine and blinding headlights revealed a dump truck heading her way, stopping mere inches away as the driver killed the engine and leaned out the window.

“Hey buddy, can ya move outta the way? ‘Less you wanna be turned into scrap.”

He stopped suddenly when he realised who was in his way; pixelized sweat beads running down that familiar blushing face.

“If anyone’s gonna be getting turned into scrap today, it’s you,” she bitterly replied.

“What...? I-I don’t...Look, If I’d known you were g-gonna be here...” Blazer stuttered as he got out of the truck.

“What? You wouldn’t have come?”

“N-no. That’s not what I meant,” the older robot said, fiddling with his Hi-Vis vest as he struggled to come up with the right words. “C-Clem. Look, I—”

A smack to the face shut him up instantly.

“Do not call me that. Only my God-damn friends get to use that name. Remember that? When we used to be friends? When we had each other's backs and didn’t rat each other out?!”

Blazer retreated with his hands up defensively as Clementine backed him up against the hood of the truck. “I’m sorry, okay?! I know what I did was—”

“Terrible? Awful? Downright unforgivable?”

“All of that!” Blazer conceded, nodding vigorously. “But I was desperate for money; I... owed these guys and I didn’t see any other way to pay ‘em back.”

“What was it you said? You valued money more than friendship or camaraderie?”

“I valued my limbs! The b******* were gonna harvest me for parts if I didn’t cough up the cash!”

Clementine faltered a little. Blazer had never mentioned anything about debt when they were working together. He had always seemed so focused on the task at hand, maybe a bit too focused now that she thought about it.

She shook her head. “But you didn’t care what would happen to me or the little outsider! You threw us to the wolves! Didn’t you care about that?”

Blazer avoided her hard gaze. “Not at the time, no. I was just relieved that I was finally free of my burden. That I could walk down the street without constantly looking over my shoulder. I... I didn’t care what happened to either of you.”

The robot flinched as Clementine angrily raised her fist.

“Now, hang on! I’m not finished!” He said, sighing in relief when the impact never came. “When the city opened up, when I saw the sky for the first time, I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe that you and the little furball actually managed to free us all.”

Clementine stayed silent.

“It made me realise that...this was my chance to finally clean up my act and get a proper job, try and lead somethin’ of a normal life. So... here I am.”

“A trash collector,” she deadpanned.

“Waste Collector,” he corrected. “Pays decent and... I feel like I’m actually doin’ something useful. Suppose the city’s a bit like me in a way; dirty, unlawful but with a bit of TLC could become somewhat decent again.”

Besides the terrible analogy, Clementine was almost envious of Blazer. How he managed to scrape his way out of what would have been certain death, seeing the error of his ways and bettering himself for it by providing a service to the city that would seem redundant to most.

“I’m actually glad you came this way, Clem. I know it’s a cheek to ask but...I was hoping you might forgive me.”

A memory crossed her RAM—of Zurks piling onto Zbaltazar as they crawled out of the sewers, escaping the bloodshot gazes that yearned for their deaths.

“Not a day goes past that I don’t regret what I’ve done.”

Zbaltazar’s body was heavy and limp as she dragged him into Antvillage, his head twitching and glitching as venom coursed through his circuitry.

“I know I’ll need to carry these mistakes with me for the rest of my life.”

Her core threatened to burst as she embraced him one last time.

“But I think I can be a better person, if you’ll let me.”

Not even daring to look back, she climbed up the pipes to Midtown, knowing full well that she was never returning for him.

“Clem...?”

Clementine saw nothing but red.

“No...” she muttered. “No, you don’t get to just make those choices and expect everyone to just forgive you. Why should you get a second chance when Companions who are twice as brave, loyal and actually value your friendship are forced to live with the consequences of your actions!”

Picking up on the tension and intensity of her voice, Blazer didn’t even bother struggling when she grabbed his vest and shoved him against the truck with so much force that there was a groaning pressure of metal being pushed upon metal.

“You don’t deserve a normal life. You don’t deserve friends and you sure as hell don’t deserve any more chances when you’ve had time and time again to make up for what you’ve done. You...have been nothing but a failure over...and over again...!”

Clementine’s grip slackened as her fists shook with...fury? Resentment? At who? Blazer?

Or herself?

It was only then she realised that Blazer’s eyes had wandered down.

“Hey!” She shouted, her hardened resolve returning in full force. “Eyes up here when I’m talking to you!”

“Uh...we uh...have company...,” was all Blazer could stutter as he pointed a shaking finger behind her. Following his gaze, her eyes fell upon the little outsider. He was just...sitting there, watching.

“How long have you been there?” Clementine demanded, making sure to tighten her grip on Blazer should he use this chance to slip away like the snake he was.

“Mreh eh?”

“Ugh. Whatever. Just...go back to the apartment, okay? I’ll be...finished here soon enough.”

Turning back to Blazer—who was still practically sweating—she took a moment to decide what to do with him. She could just beat him up and get it done, but that just didn’t seem like enough. She wanted him to suffer, to pay—to really pay —for betraying her trust like he had.

It seemed the little outsider had other plans.

“W-what’s it doing?” Blazer nervously asked when the cat started winding between their legs—more notably Blazers. Purring and rubbing his head against the robot’s shins, affectionately curling his tail around the ankles and gazing up at him, slowly blinking.

“He’s...forgiving you.” Clementine realised.

“What?”

“You got trash in your audio receptors?” She snapped. “I said he’s forgiving you. Though I’m not sure why.”

“I... really?” Blazer asked with a question mark as he looked down. “Even after all that s*** I put you through?”

“Mrah!”

“...Thanks.”

Clementine observed the scene; the calm serenity of it all. The way her little recruit seemed so in-tune and understanding of Blazer’s genuine remorse and letting go of the negative emotions and memories. Moving on with whatever positives remain. Is this what Zbaltazar meant when he asked her to stop punishing herself?

“...You can go.”

Clementine released Blazer and shuffled back with her head hung low, fully expecting him to take the opportunity and scarper back into the dumpster truck, maybe even try and knock her down for good measure.

Instead, he closed the gap between them and hugged her tightly.

Blinking in shock, Clementine stiffened at the contact, instincts screaming at her to push him away in case he had a hidden knife and was intending to literally stab her in the back this time.

“I’m...so sorry.”

He was trembling ever-so-slightly, but she didn’t return the hug, and after a moment, pushed him away at arm’s length.

“I... don’t think I can ever forgive you for what you did,” Clementine said. “Justice and integrity are... important to me, and you broke those principles.”

Blazer looked down, holding his arm.

“But...my friend once told me that forgiveness brings the liberty to heal the heart, the soul and mind. That it’s a chance to begin anew and... break the shackles of self-loathing,” Clementine paused for a moment. “So... I’d like to try.”

Blazer nodded appreciatively, bent down to place his hand atop the little one’s head in silent gratitude and hopped back into the truck. He didn’t leave right away, instead tapping his fingers against the steering wheel as if he was deciding on something.

“Do you...want a lift back?” He finally asked.

She was about to refuse when the little one let out a massive yawn and laid down on his side as if he was preparing just to fall asleep in the middle of a cold alley. The pitiful sight brought a small smile to Clementine’s screen, but it made her realize that nightfall was starting to creep in. If she walked—carrying a heavy lump of fur, no less— the remaining Zurks would be prowling about before she got back, looking for an easy snack.

So, she swallowed her pride and nodded.

“Then hop on in,” Blazer said, opening the other door for her.

“Come on, little guy,” Clementine gently prodded with her foot, frowning when the furball didn’t budge.

“Meh!”

“I’m not picking you up.”

“Eh eh...”

Only moments later, she was hoisting herself up with one hand while the other had his highness tucked under her arm, settling him on her lap when she managed to climb into the seat.

“Fussy l’il thing, ain’t he?” Blazer said as he pulled out of the alleyway and into the moonlit road.

“You would be too if you had been nearly ripped to shreds,” Clementine bluntly answered. “No small talk, eyes on the road.”

“You uh...got it, boss,” Blazer stammered as he shut his trap and focused solely on driving.

A small part of her wanted to keep snarking at him, chastise him for every little bump and instruct him on how to actually drive. But instead, she spent what little energy she had left stroking her little charge, his purring soothing her shot nerves and lulling her into sleep-mode as the white-gold moon ascended into the black heavens.

Perhaps one day, Clementine would be able to forgive herself too.

xxx

Chapter 8 --->

#stray #stray game #stray clementine #stray blazer #stray zbaltazar #stray momo #fanfiction #my writing

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theunquenchablethirst · 3 years ago

Text

Hooked (Jerome X Reader)

Ok, so this is a thing. I was kinda surprised nobody had used this scene yet, because the Gotham fandom seem to collectively agree that Jerome is BIG KINKY and yet the one scene where he canonically has people cuffed up and hung from the ceiling... nobody has touched??? Y'all have been sleeping on that scene! It's fanfic gold! Anyway, enjoy the hedonism. Much love xxx

Warning: SMUT, 18+, GRAPHIC SEXUAL CONTENT, BDSM, bondage, cuffs, dom/sub, vaginal fingering, oral sex, biting, spanking, slapping, pussy slapping, light choking, spitting, belt whipping, praise/degradation, marking, mention of scratching, Jerome is big meanie pants mean man

The new mayor of Gotham is having a meeting with his council members, but things take a turn when the Legion of Horribles show up to kidnap them and reader. When the victims are being unloaded from the truck, Jerome Valeska notices reader, because she isn't exactly on the guest list.

Tag list of lovelies: @gabile18 @valeskaduh @fangirl--writes @persephoneblck

Masterlist

I had been working as a housekeeper for the new mayor. It was a good job, but I wasn't appreciated. I was just there to clean and serve when needed. I don't think he even knew my name. I was just hired help to him. To all of them.

He was hosting a dinner for his council that day. I had been placed in the corner of the room with a bottle of expensive wine where I was to wait until wanted. He gestured for me to come forwards and fill their glasses while they started talking about their displeasure with the rising foul play in the city, like it was anything new for Gotham. The chairwoman wanted to know what he was going to do about it. Very little in my opinion. He was just coasting. In too deep over his head. He had been appointed far too fast and everyone knew it. He wasn't going to last.

He made an attempt to save face and talk about how he too was disturbed by the recent goings on and was doing everything he could. Trash, utter trash. As he rose from his seat, the lights fizzled out. I stopped pouring. Had this been any other city I would have assumed it was a simple power outage, but nothing was that simple in Gotham. The security guard closed us in and went to see what was happening. The air turned icy. No, this was not good. Gunshots and screams came from the hallway and everyone rose from the table terrified. We quickly started walking towards a door hoping to make an escape, but there was something about the windows. They were freezing over.

The doors burst open and I dropped the wine. It smashed into pieces as a blueish man in some kind of robotic suit and a weird looking, but huge gun stepped into the room. Was that Victor Fries? Then through the second set of doors another man in a top hat who I recognised as Jervis Tetch burst in with some other strange looking friends.

Before I could comprehend the situation, we were all being cuffed and taken outside. Our kidnappers pushed and pulled us towards a huge truck, all the while the mayor tried to buy his way free. He was showing just how little he really knew about the underbelly of Gotham. I knew just by looking at them that they were probably Arkham escapees and couldn't be bought like a sane man could. They had their own plans and you can't bargain with crazies.

We got to the truck and they opened the back door. My blood ran cold when I saw that standing there waiting for us was Jerome Valeska. Of all the criminals Gotham had seen he had been the only one that had scared me, truly and thoroughly. He didn't have any kind of reason for what he did. He just enjoyed death and chaos. And after his last escapade he looked like madness personified, his scars circling his face and eyes and giving him a permanent evil smile. Dread consumed me as I realized that he was no doubt the leader of this operation and if that was true, we were already dead.

I felt myself jolted forwards. The mayor had pushed me in front of the rest of the council to get whatever was coming first. If I wasn't cuffed, I would have turned around and broke his nose. I was lifted into the truck, my hands were pulled above my head and fixed to two hooks. I had to stand on my toes to keep standing which made it awkward and difficult as they pushed me to the back of the truck.

Was that Penguin? What was he doing here? He didn't belong here. I had gone to Penguin looking for a job in his club when I was 16. He was impressed with my audition, but when he asked my age, he rejected me.

"This establishment is not a playground for children. It's a nightclub." He had told me. At the time I had been steaming mad, but in hindsight he was probably right. Even if he was rude. So, after that, I found it hard to understand why he was here and working with Valeska. Maybe he had been kidnapped too?

The rest of the council were loaded on and hooked. The mayor was still trying to offer them money and pardons. When he saw it wasn't working, he resorted to empty, unintimidating threats. Jerome was completely unfazed and even a little disappointed in the lack of smiles.

"Nobody knows how to have fun anymore, right?" He said putting his arm around Penguin. So, he was a part of this.

Jerome pointed to a scary looking figure dressed like a scarecrow. Johnathan Crane? Crane released some kind of purple gas in the face of a member of a council. She started laughing and convulsing violently.

"What have you got to lose? Except your sanity?" Jerome joined in the crazy laughter. So, this was his plan. He'd figured out a way to forcefully drive everyone insane. With a gas.

I silently prayed to God in my mind for any kind of help.

After sufficiently terrifying us half to death, they left us in the back of truck. None of us could say anything and after a few minutes the truck started moving.

"Is she ok?" I asked looking towards the victim of the insanity gas.

"Who cares?! We have to figure out what they want and get out of here." Replied the mayor.

"Maybe they want publicity for whatever that gas is. Offer them some TV time." Guessed the chairwoman.

"Don't you get it?! This isn't a situation you can buy your way out of!" I snapped, frustrated with their idiocy.

"These aren't normal criminals. They don't want your money. They want chaos and madness." They stood there silently stunned. They had never heard me speak with such confidence, but in that moment, they knew I was right.

After what felt like hours the truck finally stopped.

"What's going on?" The mayor whispered.

Everything was quiet. We listened for any noise or sign of life. All we could hear was our own breath.

Then suddenly the doors flung open once again and in hopped Valeska, Tetch and Crane.

"We're here!" Jerome grinned.

The other two started to pull the council one by one off the hooks and walk them out of the truck, closely watched by Jerome. Until they got to me.

"Wait..." He stuck an arm out to stop Tetch from unhooking me.

"Who's she? She wasn't on the party list." He took a few steps closer to me.

"This poor young girl is an unlucky maid. Wrong place, wrong time. Very bad day." Jervis explained looking at me.

"Would you like me to... dispose of her?" Asked Crane, stalking close to me and lifting needle covered fingers to my throat.

"Not so fast, Mr Potato Head." Jerome said pulling him away from me.

He came so close that we were only inches apart. He looked down at me as if he was thinking for a few seconds then smirked and turned around to the others.

"Guys, go and see that our guests are comfortable, will ya? Get everything ready." He ushered them out of the truck. Fear travelled up and down my body. This had all been a bad situation, but being alone with Valeska scared the hell out of me.

"You're lucky I have a soft spot for pretty little girls." He closed the truck doors and turned to look at me.

"Freddy Krueger there... not so much." He relaxed, leaning back against the doors with his hands in his pockets. "You got a name?"

I stayed silent, more out of fear than defiance. He sucked his teeth and stood up straight.

"I get it. You're scared. Who wouldn't be, right?" He started slowly walking closer. "But things will go a lot smoother if you just play nice."

I still couldn't find any words.

"Aw, come on, doll! I'm getting awful lonely over here." He brought his hands up out of his pockets and leaned against a wall of the truck.

He was quiet for a few seconds and I noticed that his eyes were making their way up my legs. Being held up by my wrists on my tip toes had pulled my uniform skirt up and almost all of my thighs were exposed. I blurted out my name in an attempt to distract him from my bare legs. He smiled.

"What a pretty name. Now, was that so hard?" He pushed himself off the wall and came a little closer.

"So, you're the mayor's dust bunny, huh? I gotta say, doll, I can see why he keeps you around." He chuckled, eyeing me.

My whole body flushed and my face turned hot and red.

“But, uh, the thing about mayors in this town, they don’t last very long.”

"Please let me go." I whimpered.

"Oh, but we're having such a good time! Plus, if I did that, you'd scamper off to the GCPD and I can't have good ol' Gordon crashing the party early."

I scoffed at his suggestion. Not likely. I had a distinct distaste for the GCPD. They hadn't helped me when I needed them. I would never need them again.

"What's the matter? He book ya before or something?" Jerome smiled with intrigue.

"My parents... they... did things to us. When I ended up in the hospital one too many times..." Tears stung my eyes as I remembered. "They left me there and disappeared with my little brother. No one ever managed to track them down."

I didn’t fully understand why I was opening up to Jerome, but for a second, I saw a spark of humanity in his eyes. Like he understood my pain. I'd heard his first kill had been his mother, so maybe he did?

"I'd give anything to see him again." I sniffed and a tear rolled down my cheek.

"Yeah, I had shitty parents too." He sighed. "I killed them both."

I had thought about what I would do if I ever saw my parents again. What I would say, what I would ask. I could never think of the right words. But the thought of killing them, well that made me smile.

"What was it like?" I asked.

Jerome grinned from ear to ear and stepped closer so that we were toe to toe.

“Have you ever stood at the edge of a really tall building? You know that little voice in the back of your head that says ‘Jump! You can fly!’ even though every other part of you is screaming ‘No you can’t! You’re gonna kill us!’”

I nodded shakily.

“It’s like finally giving in to that voice. Like jumping off Gotham Bridge and finding out you can fly. And realising you never have to walk again.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and my heart felt like it was going a million beats per minute. His eyes were locked on mine and it felt like he was looking straight into my soul.

“You wanna fly, doll?” He brought his hand up to cup my jaw and ran his thumb along my bottom lip.

It wasn’t humanity I saw in Jerome Valeskas eyes. It was freedom. A freedom that I had wanted for as long as I could remember. And I could have it right now. He was offering it to me. The only thing standing in my way was myself.

“Yes.” I breathed. “Yes, I do.”

The next thing I knew, his lips were crashing into mine and he had hooked his hands under my thighs and was holding them around his waist. His kiss was desperate and hungry, like he had been starved for days and his grip on the bare flesh of my thighs was rough enough to leave bruises. I locked my ankles together behind him to steady myself from swaying underneath the cuffs. When I did, he drove his crotch forwards, grinding into my centre, a quiet moan escaping me as I felt him.

He slowly trailed a hand from my thigh, up my back and to the nape of my neck, before balling my hair in his fist. I gasped as I felt the sudden, sharp tug of him pulling my head back.

His eyes wandered down to settle on my exposed throat, before yanking my head to the side and nestling in the crook of my neck. He must’ve left a hundred open mouth kisses, but as he started to suck, I felt his teeth sink into my skin. I pulled back with a hiss at the sting, but he wouldn’t let go. He just kept on leaving harsh, red bitemarks and pulling my hair, all the time grinding harder into me.

He licked over the bruises he’d left and gently kissed them, before trailing his tongue up my neck to nip at my ear. He smiled darkly and pulled back away from me, dropping my legs back to the floor. He stalked around me, eyeing me up and down like a predator. I felt him behind me, his hands softly holding onto my waist, pulling me close to his chest.

“You know what’s great about this?” He cooed. “You’re already pre-cuffed.”

I flushed and my core swelled hot, his breath so close to me made my skin tingle all over. He pulled at the top of my skirt and dragged it down my hips, letting it fall down around my feet. He caressed my thighs and then stepped back, tugging at my underwear, playfully letting the elastic snap back to me.

“Y’know...” He said, before the familiar sound of a belt unbuckling. “Marquis de Sade said ‘sex without pain is like food without taste’...”

My eyes widened at his words and my heartbeat quickened.

“So, let’s make this... delicious.”

A million thoughts raced through my mind, but before I could process any, I felt the sharp snap of leather against my ass. I jolted forwards and let out a high pitch yelp.

Even though I couldn’t see him, I could tell he was smirking. I could hear it in his voice. I bit my lip in an attempt to brace myself and he landed the belt across me again.

“Please, Jerome...” I whimpered at the sting, closing my eyes.

He brought it down again, making me arch my back in a gasp. A couple of tears rolled down my cheeks and I realised there was little point in resisting the torment. So, I gritted my teeth and prepared for another lick of the belt.

He whipped me once more, harder this time and a small scream escaped me.

“Please!” I begged.

I heard him chuckle with dark delight. The bastard was enjoying this. Of course he was. What else had I expected from someone like him? I tightened all my muscles for the next sting...

But it didn’t come. Instead, I felt him pulling my underwear down. Relief washed over me when I heard the belt drop to the floor and I realised Jerome was finished and was now crouched, ready to inspect his work. He ran his fingers over my burning flesh, taking in the bright red lashes he had left on me.

“What a pretty picture?” He said, landing a spank. “I wish you could see too doll, but having you cuffed is half the fun.”

His voice was dripping with venom and arousal and I could practically feel his grin in the air. He traced the marks with his fingers a little longer, before grabbing my flesh in fistfuls and sinking his teeth in. I gasped loudly at the hard bite. I wasn’t sure how many more of Jerome's surprises I could take. He laughed and ran his tongue over the new bruise.

“Yep. Definitely a pretty picture.” He smiled, giving me another spank. “I like those little noises you make, doll. Why don’t you make some more for me?”

He snaked his hand up my inner thigh and began stroking along my slit, relighting the fire in my stomach. I moaned, biting hard on my lip and tried to bring my thighs together, wanting friction.

“Naughty.” He said, landing a swift slap on my entrance causing me to let out a little yelp. “I need you to keep those legs open for me.”

It wasn’t as bad as the belt. In fact, it felt quite good. The heat inside me swelled as Jerome returned to running his fingers back and forth in my slickness. I hummed softly in my throat, fighting the urge to close my thighs again, my knees starting to shudder underneath me.

“Look how wet you are and I’m barely touching you.” Jerome chuckled darkly. “I wonder what happens if I do this?”

Jerome plunged two fingers deep inside me and slowly started pumping them. I let the warmth roll through me, moaning blissfully. He gently started to pick up speed, making it nearly impossible for me to keep my thighs apart. The faster he got, the deeper he dove, making me tighten around his talented fingers and struggle to keep steady on my toes.

My legs were shaking and despite my best efforts I just had to squeeze them together. As soon as I did, Jerome removed his fingers from me, leaving me feeling empty and spanked me hard.

“What did I say about that?” He barked, laying down another spank.

His spanking felt different this time. It felt pleasurable and sent a thrill up my spine.

“Sorry.” I whimpered.

“Sorry for what?” He spanked me again. “For being a needy little whore? Hm?” Another spank.

“Yes!” I gasped. “I’m a needy little whore! I just...”

“What? You just what?”

Jerome landed another slap at my core. It made my muscles clench, but it also aroused me so much more in a way I’d never thought I’d experience.

“What? What do you want, whore?”

“Please...”

“Big words, princess. What...” Spank. “Do you...” Another spank. “Want?”

“I want... I want you...” I forced, breathlessly.

“You want me? What do you want me to do, princess?” Jerome teased, tracing a finger along my burning entrance, just barely touching me.

“Please... Make me feel good, Jerome... Make me cum.”

“Are you gonna be a good girl?”

“Yes...”

“Are you gonna do as I say?”

“Yes, I will.”

“Exactly as I say?”

“Yes! Yes! Yes! Just please...Jerome.”

I couldn’t take it any longer. I felt so pathetic and needy. I needed him to touch me.

“So desperate.” He giggled sadistically. I supposed he loved seeing me beg.

Then, finally, he spread me open and dove his tongue deep into my wanting warmth. I closed my eyes and bit down hard on my lip as he swirled his tongue around inside me. I wanted to grab his hair and feel it in my fingers, but all I could do was squeeze my fists together in empty frustration.

Jerome grabbed a hand full of my ass, gripping it tightly, digging his nails in and rose his other hand to my pelvis front, pulling me down further onto his tongue. I squealed, a delightful mixture of pleasure and also pain from the tugging on my aching forearms. He ran his front hand down to play with my swollen clit, circling his fingers around beautifully.

He grinded his face deeply into me, sliding his tongue up, down, around and around inside me. He pressed his fingers down harder on my clit, forcing a loud moan out of me. I felt the pressure inside me build, coiling and tightening like a burning spring. I squeezed my thighs around his head in a desperate attempt to pull him deeper, his tongue nestling inside finding all of my sweet spots and lighting them on fire.

I could feel myself ready, ready to burst. He was pulling an amazing orgasm out of me and I wanted nothing more than to just let it go. All it took was one more upward jolt of his head, pushing his tongue that last little bit deep enough to push me over. I screamed out in erotic pleasure, letting the feeling flood me like warm water. My back arched and my legs convulsed until I withered, letting myself dangle from my cuffs in a breathless defeat.

Jerome slid his tongue out of me and pulled his face back away.

“You sing so pretty, dollface. Like a little birdie.” He said, squeezing the flesh off my ass.

He gave me one more light bite and a spank, before he rose back up to stand, snaking his hands along my sides all the way. He let his hands wander up to cup my breasts, massaging them softly. He leaned in close and began leaving wet kisses in the crook of my neck. I shuddered, his touch sending a cool tingle down my spine. He let his hands squeeze my breasts slightly harder, then pulled away and crept back around in front of me.

He stood facing me, his eyes locked on mine. They seemed to burn holes right into my flesh, creating a sense of fear in me. I was scared of Jerome Valeska, I truly was. But everything he was doing to me right now... The way he touched me, kissed me. I wondered how he managed it. How he was able to both terrify and arouse me in equal amounts.

Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t register his hand rising until it was firmly wrapped around my throat. He leaned down to kiss me, dominating my mouth with his tongue, making me taste myself. Once again, I felt the familiar warmth build in my core as I sensed we were not quite done here. He finished the kiss with a little nip to my bottom lip.

“Are you scared of me, doll?” He purred.

I swallowed hard, unsure if truth was wise here. Then I felt him increase the pressure around my throat, not wanting to wait for an answer.

“Yes.” I breathed.

“Good.” He said through an evil smirk.

He crashed his lips to mine once again, his free hand picking up my thigh to wrap around him. I locked both my legs around his waist, wanting to feel him close against me. I felt his erection hard, under his clothes, grinding into me and I wanted it. Badly. He pulled away from the kiss, leaving his taste on my tongue and raised his hand from my throat to grab hold of my face. He took his other hand away from my thigh and pulled at his tie. I didn’t drop my legs this time, instead I gripped tighter as he slid his tie from around his neck and scrunched it in his fist.

“Open your mouth.” He ordered.

I did as he said and he smiled, before spitting into my open lips and gagging me with his tie. I’d never had anyone do that before and it shocked me a little, but then again, I’d never had anyone like Jerome Valeska before.

He backed up slightly, just enough for him to reach down and unzip his trousers and pull down his underwear, freeing his erection. I couldn’t help but look down at it. It was bigger than any I’d taken before and I wasn’t sure how prepared I was. He started to slowly stroke himself, lifting up my chin to look at me.

He gently stroked a single finger across my jaw and then, suddenly, landed a harsh slap across my cheek. I yelped at the slap, causing a dangerous smile to form on Jeromes mouth. I should’ve been repulsed by him. He killed people and was aroused by my pain and fear, so why was I so attracted to him?

He angled himself underneath me so he was lined up and ready. He wrapped his hand back around my throat and then pushed forwards into me, causing us both to let out deep moans.

“You like that?”

I nodded and whimpered through the material of the tie. Jerome giggled darkly and with his free hand, gripped onto my waist.

“Brace yourself, princess.” He warned, through a poisonous smile.

He pulled back slowly, until he was almost completely out of me and then, like a bullet, ploughed himself right back in, jolting me backwards with force. He continued his thrusting rough and fast, making me whimper and bite down hard on the tie. I closed my legs tightly around him, pulling him closer and forcing him in deeper.

He let out a low, guttural groan and moved his hand upwards from my waist to slap me again, spitting at my face as he did so. I closed my eyes to endure the onslaught of him pounding inside me like a raging animal. I felt like a toy, dangling there for him to use as he liked, but still the searing pleasure of it all made me moan lustfully.

“Open those peepers, princess.” He commanded. “I want you to see exactly who’s in charge here.”

I opened my eyes and saw him grinning at me like a man possessed.

“You like this? You like me fucking you?” He growled, gripping my throat tighter.

All I could do was whimper and moan in response.

“I cuffed you and hung you up, hurt you, spat on you... even made you cry! And you still let me fuck you?” He laughed through shallow breaths. “You’re pathetic, you know that? A pathetic little whore.”

Jerome threw another slap at me and I felt myself tighten around his considerable length, taking him all deep inside me. He drove up into me like he was trying to break me open with his girth and I welcomed every inch of it.

“You’re so fucking tight.” He moaned.

I clenched my walls around him, the feeling of being filled by him sending flutters through me as he pushed in deeper and laughed.

“I don’t think your pussy ever wants to let me go, doll!” He grinned. “But I already know you like taking my cock like this, cause you’re such a good girl for me... I like that.”

I flushed at his words. I didn’t know why, but it made me feel good to please him and, in that moment, I would have done anything for him. I could feel my ecstasy creeping up on me, like magma rising inside a volcano. I cried out wantonly, the heat rising as he worked me, exploring every detail of my canal with his thick shaft.

He let go of my throat and moved both his hands to grab onto my ass and squeezed, steadying me so he could pound me harder and climb to release. His thrusts became erratic and sloppy and I could tell he was just as close as I was. I moaned loudly as he rammed into me harder and faster, burying himself deeper and making my arousal burn.

I could feel it coming, so close. I was about to boil over and all I needed was him. Just him. He continued thrusting like a raging animal, digging his nails into my flesh and scraping them along my ass, stinging sweetly. I whimpered at the sensation and tightened my legs.

“Cum for me, doll.” He panted. “I wanna feel you cum on my cock.”

He plunged into me, pushing the magma higher and just so close to bursting. It was coming. I could feel it.

He pounded again. So close. Again and again, so hard inside me. Just a little more...

I screamed out, closing my eyes and letting everything go. The feeling of my orgasm washed over me like a tidal wave of pure elation. My whole body shook from the force of it and I trembled like a leaf. Jerome continued to thrust into me until he too reached his climax. He growled like a beast and I felt him throb, releasing his hot load of sticky lust deep inside me.

We both relaxed, catching our breath and he stared down into my eyes. He unlatched his hands from the flesh of my ass and brought one round to gently stroke my cheek with his fingertips. It was quiet, but only for a minute.

He threw his head back and laughed like the madman he was, before pulling out of me and stepping back. My legs dropped to the floor and he began to put himself away and zip his trousers back up.

“Well, that was fantastic, dollface. Thanks for playing nice with me.” He said, throwing me a wink.

There was a loud metallic knock at the truck doors and I guessed whoever it was, was trying to get Jeromes attention.

“It’s been fun princess, really. But time waits for no man and I’ve got a party to attend” He said, smiling at me. “Well, more like crash.”

When he turned to leave, I tried to speak, but all that came out was intelligible muttering. He wasn’t going to leave me here, dangling, half naked and gagged like this? Was he? He began walking to the truck doors and I tried to call out.

“Oh! Wait, almost forgot.”

I felt a flood of relief when he began walking back to me.

“I’m gonna need this back.” He said and pulled the tie out of my mouth.

I was glad to finally be rid of it, but my joy was short lived, because he was starting to leave again.

“Hey...” I croaked; my mouth dry.

“Yeah, I’ll have someone come get you later.” He said, too nonchalantly for my liking. “For now, you can just... well, why don’t you just hang out?”

He laughed at his joke and opened the doors.

“Hey! You can’t leave me here!” I tried to shout, but my throat was too dry.

And then... he was gone. He really did just leave me alone, half naked in the back of a truck. How long would it be before someone found me? An hour? Two? The rest of the day?

All alone with my thoughts now, I decided the only thing to do now was wait. Wait and try and go over what the hell just happened between me and Jerome Valeska.

#gotham #jerome valeska #jerome x reader #fanfic #smut

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unwantedtomost · 4 years ago

Text

it had been months — sebastian stan

sebastian stan x fem!reader

word count: 4,401 words

summery: it had been nine months since you and your first real long term boyfriend broke up. but as they say, time makes the heart grow fonder ... and it also made the lust build up.

warnings: angst, smut, thigh riding, cheating, kind of a breeding kink at the end, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it)

a/n: i have never actually posted a whole thing on here before, so i hope this goes well. i know my writing can improve, but it’s pretty good i would say. enjoy!

It had been months since you had broken up with your long-term boyfriend. Your first long-term boyfriend you had since you arrived to the Hollywood scene. Nine months, to be exact. The same amount of time it would have been to carry a child. A hypothetical child. The same hypothetical child that ruined your relationship in the first place.

“You don’t want kids?” Sebastian questioned as soon as you entered the shared apartment. The topic of children came up at dinner with your shared friends. You, offhandedly said: “God, no,” with a laugh, not giving it a second thought. Not till now.

“Not really,” you said as you unzipped your heeled boots. “I never really have, not since I was younger.”

“Never?” He asked, heart starting to beat heavier.

You looked up to him, concerned when you saw his face. It was the same face he had on every time you guys got in a face, mixed with disappointment, maybe even hurt. You smiled, trying to lighten the situation.

“Maybe not never,” you said, putting your shoes away. “But not at least for ten years, maybe even longer. I mean, I am only twenty-two. I would like a good life without children before bringing them into the mix.”

Your warm smile and calm demeanor did nothing to elevate the tension, something inside you saying it did the exact opposite. He looked serious and upset, a combination you never saw much.

“In ten years I’ll be almost fifty,” Sebastian states.

“So? Guys never really stop shooting out good rounds. All my parts will still be intact by that time too.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Then what is it?” You were confused. Why was he acting like this?

“I shouldn’t be old enough to be the kid’s grandfather.”

Anger started to bubble up as well. This tone that he had made you pissed off. He was talking like you were stupid like you didn’t get what he was saying. The brassiness you had in general not helping your temper.

“Maybe you should have thought about that before you started dating someone sixteen years younger than you,” you shot back.

Then the yelling started. Something that could have been a deep, meaningful conversation (one that frankly should have been had way before this point) turned into a full-blown fight. You both started going in at each other, picking at old scabs that you knew would hurt. That was the point, after all, you just wanted to hurt each other. Because you were mad and upset, you guessed, but by the end of it, you weren’t even sure.

The fighting ended two hours later, you sat, slumped on the couch, huffing. You tried to catch your breath from all the yelling. Your throat was hoarse, your cheeks sticky from dried tears.

“It seems like we’re not gonna work out then,” you said, numb.

“Seems so.”

And you left that night, grabbing nothing but your phone before making your way to your closest friend’s house.

After that, you cried for two months straight. You really thought that Sebastian was endgame. That you would be together forever. That you would be happy. Ever since you caught sight of him at your first audition, you felt that he was the one. Then the universe laughed maniacally as it showed you just how fucking wrong you were.

In the past nine months, you had seen him approximately sixteen times, most being in passing, a few being at parties, and one time being at a coffee shop that you both loved. You started to frequent it less after the breakup, too scared to bump into him. Little did you know, he was doing the same thing. The day you two saw each other was both of your first times in three months.

It was all stupid small talk until it wavered, forced laughs and fake smiles fading as the reality of the situation simmered in.

“Look, y/n—”

“Don’t,” you interrupted. You knew what he was going to say, and you didn’t want to hear it. You simply couldn’t. “It was nice seeing you again, Sebastian. I hope you have a good life.” You took a few steps before turning back around for a moment. He looked at you like he was expecting you to run into his arms and make everything go back to normal. “And I really hope you meet a girl that can give you what you need.”

He tried to reach out to you, but you wouldn’t let him. You simply walked away and left him, alone. That was the last time you had spoken to him.

It was five months after the breakup until you let your friends talk you into going out again. And that night you had run into none other than the Timothee Chalamet. Numbers were exchanged then the next thing you knew, you were naked in his hotel room. After that, you went through a bit of a “hoe stage.” Every two weeks you were on a cover of TMZ, E!, or any other celebrity gossip magazine that existed with a “possible new thing.” The people ranged from Tom Holland to Madison Beer, and no one knew what was true or not. After the first few batches came out, you stopped giving a shit. You were allowed to rebound with whomever or however you wanted to, and you were taking full advantage of that.

You were so busy juggling so many people that you hadn’t even thought about Sebastian. Not till right now. Your eyes catch his from across the ballroom that you’re currently in. Your pulse quickens rapidly, you feel like you might even faint. If it wasn’t for Timothee’s hand on your waist, you were sure you would have collapsed on the spot. You watched as Sebastian’s jaw clenched just like it did whenever you did something he disapproved of. Just like it did every time he gave into himself and read one of those stupid gossip sights and saw you all over whatever arm candy you had chosen for the week.

“I’ll be right back, okay babe?” Timothee said, kissing you on the cheek. He waited for you to nod before making his way to one of his friends.

You don’t know what to do and those beautiful blue eyes you fell in love with all that time ago refuse to leave yours. You feel like you want to cry, or scream, or throw up, but you know that you shouldn’t actually do any of those things. You’d draw attention and you don’t want any more people talking about you.

Luckily, one of your best friends, Elizabeth, pulls you into a tight hug and brings you back to earth. Her body feels warm and it makes you feel safe, the smell of her strawberry shampoo bringing you comfort.

“I know,” she said before you spoke. “I saw. Are you okay? I’ll leave with you right now if you want to.”

It takes you a minute to process everything, and even though you’re running everything through your mind, nothing really sinks in.

“I’ll be fine,” you say with conviction, though you don’t know if it’s true at all. “Leaving wouldn’t accomplish anything.” You stop talking for a minute before smiling at Elizabeth. “Now, let’s go give the people what they want and take some pictures together.”

It had been two hours and the event was finally coming to a close. No more than forty-five minutes and the place would be cleared out. With that knowledge, you went to go take advantage of the free bar stocked up with expensive liquor. After schmoozing with people you did not even want to interact with, you deserve it.

“Two shots of tequila and a rum and coke, please,” you say to the rather cute bartender, shoulders slumping.

As soon as the two shot glasses were in front of you, you downed them. It burned like hell and you could only imagine the ungodly face you made. You tried to chase it with the rum and coke, but it didn’t help much. You heard a gruff voice beside you order something, one that was very familiar. When you heard a chuckle, you knew for sure who was right next to you. You froze again, that same dizzy, sick feeling coming back. You turned your head slowly to see those big blue eyes for the second time tonight, your heart surely beating loud enough that anyone in a mile radius could hear it.

“You look beautiful tonight, y/n,” Sebastian said, leaning against the bar, facing you.

“You do too,” you blurt out. Face turning red after you realized that you’re fucking stupid. “I mean, you look—shit. You look very nice, Seb—Sebastian.”

You’re so flustered and red, you want to simply sink into the floor. For a moment, you wonder why he isn’t acting the same way. It could be that he had already had some to drink or maybe he was just better at controlling his emotion. And the thought that makes dread flow through you is that maybe he is just over you.

“Are you going to an after-party?” He asks, sipping from his glass.

“I don’t think so,” you say. You were supposed to go to one with Timothee, where you were finally going to announce that you two had become official, but now you just want to go home. “Are you?”

“Probably not,” he said simply. “I’ll just have a few more of these back home and go to bed.”

“Drinking alone is no fun,” you say, hinting. You know what you are trying to get across but you don’t know why. It’s like your mouth was moving before your brain could understand what you were doing.

“It’s not ideal,” he said. “But I really don’t have a date to drink with, unlike you.” He pointed towards Timothee talking to a director you hastily met.

“He’s not my date,” you shot out. “I mean, he is, but we’re not like, dating.” Why the fuck are you talking!?!?

“It’s none of my business,” Sebastian said. He didn’t sound mean, he sounded like he was trying to comfort you.

“I know … but we’re not … if you were wondering.”

He chuckled, placing a hand on your elbow. “It was nice to see you again, y/n.”

He turned to start walking away but you called after him, making him turn back around. “Wait!” Once he was facing you, you felt like you were in a movie. “I could go for a drink.”

Sebastian smiled but his eyes dismissed you. “What are you doing, sugar?” He warned.

“I don’t know,” you said honestly. “But don’t shut me down.”

With a shared smile, he took your hand and you both left the party. On the car ride back to his apartment (that used to be your apartment), you thought briefly about how you would explain this to Timothee in the morning. Then you turned off your phone so you didn’t have to feel guilty if he decided to text you. Neither of you spoke much on the way. His hand never left its place on your thigh before you were finally there.

When he opened the door, you stumbled lightly into the apartment. Sebastian caught you by wrapping his arm around your waist. He lightly sat you down on the chair by the entrance (the same one you had sat at nine months ago). Once he had closed the door and put his things down, he came back to you to help slip off your heels.

“Are you already drunk?” He chuckled.

“No, just a wee bit tipsy.”

“Your ‘wee bit’ is usually a lotta bit.”

“Not this time, I really mean just a wee wee bit.” You suddenly burst out laughing at the fact you just said wee wee, giving away the fact that you are indeed close to being drunk.

“Maybe you don’t need anymore to drink,” Sebastian said.

“C’mon, Sebby, take that stick out of your ass,” you say, making him laugh. It makes you feel lighter like you weren’t fucking shit up again. Like you weren’t making a mistake you would regret in the morning.

You watched as he made his way into the kitchen, pouring both of you a glass of red wine. Your favorite and most expensive red wine, the one that you had left at the apartment after the breakup. You wondered if it was the same bottle, or if he had done the same thing he was doing with you with another girl. When he came back, he handed you the glass which you placed down on the coffee table, realizing you were still in a designer white dress that you didn’t own.

“Shit,” you muttered after your realization.

“What is it?”

“This isn’t my dress.”

His eyes wandered down your figure as he thought. “You can take that off and I can hang it up for you. I’m sure there’s something here you can wear.”

You nodded before he was walking towards the bedroom, the one you once shared. You followed after him through the small hall. You looked around the room, noticing how boring it looked now. None of your decorations you had were up anymore, but the small mural you once painted in the middle of the night was still in full view. Did he think about you every time he saw it? If he did, why didn’t he just paint over it?

Sebastian placed one of his shirts (that was your favorite one to wear) and a pair of shorts you had thought you lost on the bed.

“Well, you can get changed in here,” he stated before going for the door.

“Actually,” you called out, stopping him from leaving. “Can you unzip me please?”

He paused for a moment before nodding, slowly making his way back to you. The room went silent as he softly collected your hair and moved it to one side. Heat started to rise through your body at the close proximity he held. His hands grazed your shoulders momentarily before he steadily unzipped the expensive dress. You caught his eyes in the mirror in front of you, your cheeks immediately burning red. He finished unzipping the dress before helping you slide it off your arms. You had to cover your breasts with your arm since you hadn’t worn a bra. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen your body before, he knew his way around there better than you did, but not covering yourself just felt inappropriate. But, to be fair, the entire situation felt inappropriate. The dress fell to a pool around your feet, leaving you in nothing but a pair of lace black underwear, ones that Sebastian had bought for you one month before you broke up. You stepped out of the dress, eyes never leaving his. He bent down to pick it up, blue orbs never leaving your eyes.

“I’ll go lay this on the guest bed,” Sebastian said plainly before leaving the room and closing the door.

Your heart was beating out of your chest as you let your arm fall. Even though you hadn’t even had a conversation with Sebastian in six months, being in that moment felt more intimate than anytime you had sex with Timothee—or anyone, for that matter. You pulled on the worn-out gray tee shirt that vaguely had ‘Coca-Cola’ printed across it before going out to the living room where you found Sebastian sipping on his wine, now dress in an old tee and grey sweatpants.

The next hour felt like a blur, it was filled with giggles and stupid comments. By the end of it, the wine bottle was empty and you two were officially wine drunk. Now, you were slumped on the couch (the one that you picked out), leaning towards Sebastian, hand dancing along the cushion space between you two.

“Have you realized we never had a goodbye?” You ask, breaking the silence.

“What do you mean?” He asked, not wanting his guess to what you were talking about to be right.

“I mean, we had a fight and I left then we were done. There were no ‘this is for the best’ speeches or attempts at a goodbye kiss. One day there was an us and the next it was … nothing.” You looked up at him, an innocent yet quizzical look on your soft features.

“We don’t have to talk about this,” he said.

Not this shit again. “I know,” you said, “we don’t have to talk about anything. We’re not together anymore. We don’t even need to acknowledge each other’s existence anymore. But tonight, you did, and now we’re on your couch.”

“I don’t—” he started, but you wouldn’t let him finish.

“We don’t have to talk about it then. But, I do have another question. Did you ever fuck anyone here?” The words flowed out before you could think any longer, nothing but courage and alcohol running through your body.

“What?”

“It’s pretty self-explanatory, Sebastian. I just want to know if you ever fucked someone in my—our—this place.”

His eyes bore into yours as he spoke, voice sharp and clear. “No, y/n, I have never fucked anyone in this place. No one but you.”

That answer made you happy. This place, your place, was still pure. No random hookups had tramped through the place where you lived.

“Good,” you accidentally said out loud, making him upset.

“Why does it even matter? It’s not like you weren’t fucking those young things you were all over in public.” He started to get angry at the thought. “Who are you to question me about my sex life after you broke up with me then pranced around tabloid covers for months with different people each week?”

“Because this was our house, I just want to know it wasn’t tainted by blonde bitches with names you didn’t even remember in the fucking morning.”

“Sorry to disappoint, but you’re the only blonde bitch I’ve fucked.”

Suddenly, your hand was moving and your palm was connecting with his face. It shocked both of you, making you both freeze in place. It took ten seconds before Sebastian grabbed the wrist you hit him with, yanking it so you were closer to him. So close you could feel his breath on your face.

“Slap me again and see what fucking happens, I dare you,” he spit out.

Then your heart was in your ass as your stomach erupted with butterflies and your panties soaked with arousal.

It was almost like you lost all control over your body as you smashed your lips against his. Your hands went to the back of his neck, pulling him in closer and tugging at the hair there. The intentional scruff on his face was harsh against your smooth skin, but it only elevated your pleasure. Sebastian’s hands went around the sides of your neck, one kind of cupping your face while the other was closer to the back to pull you closer. You felt like you needed to get closer to him, get as close as possible. You needed every single inch of him over every single part of yourself. Your leg swung, straddling him.

Without thinking, you rutted yourself against his thigh, a guttural moan coming from your lips as you did. It’s not like you hadn’t been touched in a while, you just got fucked a few days ago, but you hadn’t experienced something as hot as this in so long. It was rushed and needed, you felt like you would die if he stopped. Your hips absent-mindedly grinded down against his thigh again.

“Fuck, ride my thigh baby,” he ordered. You listened, slipping into your old ways. You continued to rut against his thigh as you kissed. He knew you were getting close by the moans you were letting out into the kiss. He pulled away from your lips, watching as you were losing yourself. “I want you to cum for me, sugar.”

Your hips slowed as your mind raced a mile a minute. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of making you cum from just his thigh. What would that do to his already inflated ego? It sounded like bullshit to give into him.

“No,” you mumbled out, your hips threatening to halt their movement.

“No?” He repeated.

You sat there for a minute, silent as his eyes frantically studied your face to see what the point was. He wondered if you wanted to stop, he would understand completely, but he knew that wasn’t what it was by the way you keep clenching your thighs together. Sebastian smirked as he realized what was really happening. He grabbed your hips and started to push you down on his thigh. The problem was that you wanted to cum, but you didn’t want to cum for him. Too bad he was determined on it.

You moaned loudly as he started to drag your hips. You were inching so close, the fact that you didn’t want to give in to the feeling made it feel like it was only becoming stronger. Your hands grabbed his old t-shirt as you frantically moved your hips back and forth. Your nose scrunched and your eyes shut tight, your mouth letting out a whisper of “oh fuck”s on a loop.

“That’s it,” you heard Sebastian say even though his voice sounded like it was miles away. “Cum like a good girl.”

Suddenly, all the pressure that was building up deep within your tummy snapped and you were on cloud 9. Your heat pulsed as you road out your orgasm, Sebastian's hands helping you immensely. It took a good minute of pants as you caught your breath before you opened your eyes and came back to reality.

“You’re a fucking asshole,” you muttered to him when you finally made eye contact again.

“I know,” he smirked. “Now be a good girl, sugar, and take off your pants.”

You questioned arguing with him more, but you decided not to. You wanted him, you wanted him so fucking bad. You stood up and pulled down your shorts, doing a little spin so Sebastian could marvel at how wonderful you looked.

“As beautiful as those look on you, darling, they’d look better on the floor.”

You playfully rolled your eyes as you stripped out of the underwear as well, leaving you in nothing but an old grey t-shirt. You went back to your place on Sebastian’s lap, pulling him in for another passionate kiss. You felt like you were melting into him entirely as everything snapped back into place. Your hands roamed lower, palming him through his grey sweats. You smirked to yourself at the realization of how hard he was already and at the fact he wasn’t wearing boxers. He lifted his hips to help you pull down his pants. Just as you were getting ready to place his member in the place you wanted him the most, he halts your movement by grabbing your wrist.

“Shit, I don’t have a condom, y/n,” he warned. You frowned, upset that he had stopped you.

“I don’t care.”

“But you still have that IUD in, right?”

You grimaced because no, you did not. Your five years had run out two months ago and you hadn’t gotten around to making an appointment for a new one. You shook your head slowly side to side before he sighed. He went to pull you off of him but you stopped him by holding onto his shoulders

“I don’t care,” you repeated.

“Y/n, you know why can’t.”

“Why not?”

He looked at you in disbelief. “Besides the fact you could get pregnant?”

“I don’t care,” you said one more time. “I want you.”

He looked into your eyes, trying his best to decipher your intentions.

“Y/n …”

“Get me pregnant, Sebby,” you said, meaning it too. “I want you, I want your kids. Fuck, I want us back. I don’t care if that means kids and a white picket fence. I just want you.”

“Are you sure?”

In response, you slowly leaned down and your lips touched. It was nothing like the kisses you had shared preferably, it was slow and soft. He pulled you closer, finally letting you lower yourself down on him. You both let out loud moans as you sink down on his member.

It was like you had forgotten what making love felt like, probably because you did. In the past nine months since you had split, you hadn’t made love with anyone once. It was all just meaningless sex or hot fucking, but there was no love behind it. You didn’t love Timothee, you hadn’t loved any of your flings. Maybe it was because you never stopped loving Sebastian—you were almost sure it was because of that.

You moved up and down whilst Sebastian thrust up into you. The room was filled with moans, grunts, and praises from both ends. He started to kiss your neck as his thumb started to rub your clit. The multiple amounts of stimulation only brought you closer to your climax.

“I’m gonna, fuck—I’m close.”

“I know, babygirl,” he cooed. “Look at me.” You looked into his blue orbs, feeling your climax inching ever so closer. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you whined out as your hips moved faster. “Cum inside me, Sebastian. Get me—fuck, god—put a fucking baby in me.”

With your confirmation, he flipped you on your back, thrusting harder. The hand that wasn’t toying with your clit interlaced with yours. Your grip on each other squeezed harder as you neared your finishes. You wrapped your legs around him as his hips started to stutter.

“Cum with me, baby,” Sebastian groaned.

You finally let the coil that built inside of you snap with his permission. Moments later, he busted inside of you, making you both yell out. He collapsed on top of you, trying his best not to crush you under his weight. You both panted for minutes before you finally spoke up.

“I love you,” you said. He lifted his head, looking into his eyes. “I never stopped.

“Neither did I,” Sebastian said. “Did you mean it, you want to have kids?”

“I want to do anything if it means I can be with you. Anything.”

#Sebastian Stan #sebastian stan smut #marvel smut #marvel men smut #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x y/n #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes #fanfic #tfatws

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v-hope · 4 years ago

Text

Wineless

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Fluff, established relationship

Word Count: 1.9k

Summary: What do you do when you’re out of whiskey and there’s a fancy bottle of wine lying around, which belongs to your girlfriend who just so happens to be out of town? You drink it. And then replace it before she gets back. Or well, at least you intend to, for there’s no way of replacing it when she arrives one night earlier and catches you red-handed.

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol (kind of obvious but still)

A/N: Hellooo, I had this request in my ask box for a longgggg time and I had wanted to write it ever since yet never found the right timing, until last night at 2am lol. I hope you guys enjoy!

Whiskey. Whiskey. Whiskey. Whiskey.

Yoongi hummed inside his mind, tapping on the counter a couple of times as his eyes searched for the bottle of strong alcohol he could’ve sworn he had left on that very shelf three weeks ago. Or maybe it had only been half of it, now that he thought about it, for he had drunk some of the expensive liquor that same week you got it for him, when he had been struggling with one particular verse he could just not feel contented with.

Although there was also that one other time last week when he came home not feeling his best after a bad day...

He pouted, defeated eyes still searching around as realisation hit him that there was no bottle of whiskey on sight and there would apparently be no whiskey at all for him that night.

Bummer.

You wouldn’t be home until the next day and he would have a long, lonely night. Hoseok had called him a few minutes ago informing him the bridge of the song he had taken upon writing and needed to turn in by the end of the week was now needed by midnight tomorrow. So, there were only two ways to get the inspiration he so badly needed:

You.

Whiskey.

And right then, he had none of them.

Or well, maybe not precisely, but he could always use some variety, right? So he thought when his eyes fell on the fancy bottle of wine your mum had gifted you when you got the promotion you had so determinedly worked for — the one that had now taken you on a one week business trip to Tokyo, and far away from him and your shared place.

He thought about it for a while —that being three seconds—, before his hand was grabbing it and his feet moved over to where you kept the glasses, grabbing one of them as well before he made his way over to his home studio so he could get started on the new track right away.

Now, he knew how bad it looked, even more when he knew you had been saving it for a special occasion — what special occasion exactly, he had no idea, and he was pretty sure neither did you. But, in his defense, you would be back home tomorrow evening, and that gave him a good couple of hours to drive around the city looking for the same brand —and year— of wine he had stolen from you. Come on, he wasn’t leaving you wineless, of course. He wasn’t a douche. He was just drinking it without your permission… and then replacing it so you would never notice.

Yeah, that was it. That was perfect.

Only he didn’t count on one little detail, and that was you making it home one day earlier. Not wanting to have him worry and make some time out of his busy schedule to go pick you up at the airport like you knew he would, you had decided not to tell him — never having guessed such decision would end up backfiring on both of you. On Yoongi, for he would have no way to replace the bottle before you found out, and on you, for you were now left without that fine wine you had been looking forward to drinking at some point.

“Working so late?” your sweet voice had his head snapping in your direction in a heartbeat.

And maybe if you weren’t so caught up on the way his eyes lit up at the sight of you, you would’ve noticed that part of them held some kind of panic in them — turning around on his chair and rolling it ever so slightly to his right so his body would block the empty bottle from your visual range.

“B-Babe…” he stuttered, partially because of the surprise your unannounced arrival had caused him, partially because of the alcohol having already started to hit. “You didn’t, um… I didn’t know…”

“I know,” you cut him off, knowing well enough what he meant. “Sorry I didn’t let you know, but I was getting here late, as you can see, and I didn’t want you to worry about having to go get me and all that…”

Just like that, he forgot about the wine of yours he was trying to hide altogether, smiling softly and stretching his arms out for you to hold his hands — that being exactly what you did not even two seconds later, having now fully entered his studio and letting his warm hands pull you close to him.

Not really giving you a choice —and not like you would’ve chosen any different—, he pulled you onto his lap, allowing you to sit comfortably on his legs before his hands left yours so they could rest on your back instead, smiling when you instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck and leaning in just enough to give your lips a lingering kiss.

“I missed you” he mumbled against your lips, earning a giggle from you and another small kiss to be pressed on his mouth. “Felt so lonely without you…”

“Have you been drinking?” you teased him, both because of his sweet words and because of the way his lips held a rather familiar bitter taste to them.

Of course you would notice right away.

He chuckled, because it was either laughing it off or panicking right before the inevitable happened. And that’s exactly when your eyes fell on the already emptied bottle resting next to a glass on his desk. The one bottle of yours you had been saving and that was now long gone.

It was fair to say, your previous smile was quickly erased from your face — an upset frown taking over your factions instead.

“Tell me that isn’t the one my mum gave me last month”.

And, you see, laughing in these kind of serious situations is never the best thing to do, especially when you know your significant other is upset. But, in both his state and how nervous he was at the idea of you being mad at him, it was all he could do.

“You’re laughing?” you scoffed. “You’re seriously laughing right now?”

He shook his head no, resting his forehead on your shoulder as another chuckle escaped his mouth instead of giving you a proper answer.

“Yoong—”

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” he slurred.

Although inevitably feeling your heart flutter, you rolled your eyes. “You are not trying to get out of this situation with that lame ass line”.

“But you truly are so, so beautiful, baby” he nuzzled that one soft spot in your neck, causing goosebumps to form on your skin.

“Yah, Yoongi. I’m serious” you called him out, placing your hands firmly on his shoulders and gently pushing him away so you could stand up.

“No, no” he stopped you by wrapping his arms tighter around your waist. “I’ll replace it”.

“That’s not the p—”

“I’ll buy you all the wine in the world if you want” he promised. “I was going to replace it to begin with. You were supposed to get here tomorrow”.

“So now it’s my fault for getting here earlier?”

“I mean,” he shrugged. “If you had let me know beforehand...”

Another scoff came out of your mouth, this time crossing your arms over your chest. “Unbelievable”.

“Please don’t…” a tired sigh escaped his mouth. “Please don’t be mad…”

You stayed silent, eyes fixed on the still half full glass next to the empty bottle as you could not help but sulk over the spilled milk, or well, the already drunk wine.

“You just—”

“Please,” he cut you off once more, this time speaking in that cute pouty tone of his you could never help but melt at. “I love you…” his words came out muffled as he pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder. “Don’t be mad... I’m sorry”.

This time, a sigh escaped your mouth. What else could you do anyway? The wine was already gone and you were left with a soft, drunken boyfriend who was really trying to make the situation better. Or well, at least trying as hard as his current state allowed him to.

“You better get me the exact same one, Min Yoongi” your threatening words didn’t match the way your face was now resting on his head, as he had buried his face in the crook of your neck by then.

“Mhm…” he breathed, eyes closed as he somehow managed to pull you even closer.

“I mean it, Yoongi” you stood your ground. “Tomorrow”.

He chuckled, planting one more kiss to the spot his mouth had been resting on before he went back up to your eye level. “Tomorrow” his lips parted into a gummy smile. “Don’t keep saving it for too long though…” he lovingly pinched your sides. “Might have to drink it on my own again”.

“Yah!” you pulled slightly away, squinting your eyes in a threatening way the he couldn’t help but find the cutest. “My wine. I will see when it’s the right time to drink it”.

“Our wedding night”.

You froze. “Huh?”

“Our wedding night, tops” he stated, and you were not sure if that was the alcohol speaking or he had really been thinking about marriage with you for a while now. “If you haven’t drunk it by then... we’re having it that night”.

A light, breathy laugh escaped your mouth. “Will we even be home that night?” you questioned, his eyes staring into the wall behind you letting you know he had not taken that into consideration. “Besides, in that case I would only get to drink half a bottle, whereas you’d technically had downed one and a half”.

“Pft,” his shoulders went slightly up. “Okay then, alcohol measuring police”.

Throwing your head back as you now let a throaty laugh out, you went back to him, running your fingers through the short strands of hair falling over his forehead and pushing them back, earning a smile and then a muffled giggle from him when you caught his bottom lip in between your longing ones.

“I will get you two bottles then” he quietly proposed when you pulled away. “One for you to share with me and one for you to get drunk on your own whenever you want”.

“Okay, okay” you giggled, not really minding the whole wine incident anymore as he pressed his lips tenderly on your cheek. “Isn’t there something you’re forgetting, though?”

His eyebrows furrowed, deep in thought at your question — eyes travelling to his left and wasting no time in grabbing the glass that still contained a good amount of wine in it. “You can have what’s left”.

You rolled your eyes. The proposal, he was forgetting the proposal. And you couldn’t help but find amusement in the fact that he had been so quick to talk about your wedding night when there had never been a proposal to begin with. Bold of you to believe you would get your drunken boyfriend to talk about it, though.

Nevertheless, all that aside, you did not hesitate for even a second before you took the glass from his hand.

“Oh,” he blurted out when you were taking a small sip, a smile once again parting his lips as he suddenly seemed to remember something important. “And you just wait for the ring”.

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years ago

Note

🍊🍋Wen Chao and/or wen xu is a good guy and actually wants to end wen ruo jan's reign of terror (cloud recesses, lotus pier, xuanwu cave or all are elaborate ruses)

ao3

Untamed

“A-Chao,” Wen Xu said. “I think our father is insane.”

Wen Chao’s eye twitched visibly, his shoulders rising up to his ears. “You can’t say that! That’s treason!”

“I’ve already made sure there’s no one anywhere around us right now, not even people I trust.”

Down went the shoulders.

“Of course he’s insane,” Wen Chao said. “Some of his orders recently…”

He shook his head.

“Not much of an empire to rule if they’re all ghost puppets, is there?” he concluded. “I think the Yin Metal is poisoning his brain.”

“I agree,” Wen Xu said. “Now what do we do about it? He’s just ordered me to raze the Cloud Recesses.”

“…when you say raze –”

“To the ground.”

“What happened to just dominating the rest of the cultivation world?” Wen Chao complained. “I liked that plan. I was going to have a really great life. A palace. Servants. Good food. Even better wine. Enough clothing to keep Jiaojiao from complaining.”

“I…don’t know if that’s possible,” Wen Xu said. “Haven’t you given her three closets’ worth already?”

“I have no idea, and I’m too attached to my balls to ask.”

“Anyway,” Wen Xu said. “What do we do about it?”

“You’re asking me?” Wen Chao said.

“Well I’m certainly not going up against him by myself! He’ll kill me!”

“You think he would hesitate to kill both of us?”

“Ugh. Is there anyone we can ask for help? Anyone we haven’t pissed off?”

They both paused, thinking.

“…no,” Wen Chao said. “But in our defense, we never thought we’d need any of them, did we?”

“I don’t think anyone is going to buy that as an excuse,” Wen Xu said, scowling. “Fuck. Isn’t there anyone?”

“Well,” Wen Chao said. He did not continue.

“No,” Wen Xu said. “No. He literally wants to cut off our heads.”

“So does everyone else in the cultivation world,” Wen Chao said. “At least we know Sect Leader Nie hates Dad more than he hates us, which isn’t something that can be said about the rest of them.”

“Fuck,” Wen Xu said. “What’s our alternative plan?”

“…become ghost puppets?”

“Fuck.”

“You do remember that I want to kill you both?” Nie Mingjue said, scowling at them.

“We were betting on you wanting to kill our father more,” Wen Chao said.

“I’m not sure,” Nie Mingjue said. “You’re very obnoxious.”

Wen Chao scowled.

“He has a point, A-Chao,” Wen Xu said.

“Shut up.”

“Respect your elders!”

“If you two are going to start fighting, I’m leaving,” Nie Mingjue said.

They both squinted at him. “Does that mean you might not leave if we stop?” Wen Xu asked.

Nie Mingjue’s scowl got even worse, but eventually he begrudgingly said “…well, I really hate your father.”

They both exhaled in relief.

“What’s your plan?” Nie Mingjue asked.

“This was about as far as it went,” Wen Xu admitted, and Nie Mingjue gaped at him. “What? If we had planning skills, we’d be ruling the world.”

“Jiaojiao wants jewelry now,” Wen Chao agreed. “Lots of it. Keeping a mistress is expensive.”

“I’ll…take your word for that,” Nie Mingjue said, looking mildly uncomfortable.

“You’re always plotting against our father, right?” Wen Xu asked.

“No,” Nie Mingjue said. “If I could plot, your father would already be dead.”

“Good point,” Wen Chao said, but he wasn’t the sort of person to let little details like that discourage him. “But surely you know someone who can?”

“Just keep in mind that I’m on a deadline here,” Wen Xu said. “I have to leave to go raze the Cloud Recesses by the end of the week.”

“You want me to come up with a plan to defeat your father before the end of the week?!”

“Uh, yeah,” Wen Xu said. “That’s what I said, wasn’t it?”

“It was,” Wen Chao agreed.

“I’m going to go get Meng Yao,” Nie Mingjue decided. “And Huaisang, too, why not, somehow he always gets his way no matter what I do. Maybe he can come up with something for this.”

“I think we’re going to need expert assistance,” Nie Huaisang declared. “I’m thinking this is Wei Wuxian levels of plotting.”

“He can plot?” Wen Chao said dubiously. “Are you sure? He took nearly a week to fight a mildly ominous bird.”

“…is that so?” Nie Huaisang said, and sighed. “Okay, fine. Meng Yao, guess it’s up to you and me.”

Meng Yao was blinking his eyes very rapidly.

“What?” Wen Chao said. “You have an awful father too, don’t look so shocked about us wanting to get rid of ours.”

“That’s just how his brain works when he’s thinking,” Nie Huaisang assured him. “He’s kicking it like it’s a sleeping donkey that doesn’t want to get to work; give him a minute and he’ll be coming up with all sorts of ideas.”

“Good ideas?”

“All sorts of ideas.”

“…any good ideas? Mediocre ideas, even?”

“Listen, we have until the end of the week,” Nie Mingjue said irritably. “You’ll take whatever ideas we give you and you’ll like it, you hear me?”

“Is it too late to get Wen Zhuliu in on this?” Wen Xu asked Wen Chao.

“He has that weird thing for Dad,” Wen Chao reminded him.

“Fuck,” Wen Xu said. “I’d wiped that from my memory through the application of a great deal of alcohol, but yes, you’re right. Okay. Hit me with your worst plan.”

“That’s worse than I thought it was going to be.”

“Shut up and just do it.”

“I will now, in the name of the Wen sect, attack –” Wen Xu grimaced. “– this cave.”

“It’s a very important cave, actually,” one of the Lan disciples muttered.

“Be quiet,” Lan Wangji said.

They were all pretending not to notice the main force of Lan sect disciples, led by Lan Xichen, carting their precious books and treasures out of the Cloud Recesses right behind him.

“I am attacking this very important cave,” Wen Xu clarified. “Of extreme importance to the Lan sect. So important, in fact, that it is clearly the correct target for an invasion.”

They stood around a while longer.

Someone cleared their throat. “Should we fight?”

“I can have my men beat you up if you really want,” Wen Xu said.

“…no thanks.”

“Then be quiet.”

There was a bit more standing around. Eventually Lan Qiren coughed.

“Would you like a chair or something?” Wen Xu asked, then frowned. “Never mind, I probably can’t justify that.”

“Probably not,” Lan Qiren agreed. He looked pained. Probably by the whole situation, but who knew, maybe he just had a bad back and the standing around was getting to him. “You will be taking Wangji hostage after this?”

“Along with most of the heirs of the Great Sects,” Wen Xu said. “As agreed, we’ll keep them out of the way.”

“Sometimes the most dangerous place is the safest place.”

“…yeah, that. Either way, they’ll be kept out of trouble.”

“This is not out of trouble!” Wei Wuxian shouted as they ran away from the Xuanwu.

“This stretch of river has never caused anyone any problems!” Wen Chao shouted back. “Ever! You’re the one who found the fucking cave!”

“Shut up and keep running!” Jiang Cheng howled.

“I really like your hair,” Wang Lingjiao told Madame Yu. “Also, that dress.”

Wen Chao sighed.

“Expensive tastes?” Wei Wuxian asked, pouring him some wine.

“You have no idea,” Wen Chao said glumly. “My allowance can’t cover it, so I ended up putting her as a line item in the military budget.”

“You did?” Jiang Cheng said. “Did your father, uh, object?”

“He’d have to notice.”

“I wonder how many other things he wouldn’t notice,” Wei Wuxian muttered to himself.

“You’re a young master of Yunmeng Jiang,” Jiang Cheng said, rolling his eyes. “What could you possibly want to fund that we won’t pay for?”

“I don’t know,” Wei Wuxian said. “Mad science experiments?”

“Can you pay him to stop?” Wen Xu asked. “I don’t even like flute music.”

“Shut up,” Wen Chao said. “You’ve been decapitated, remember?”

“Oh yeah, ‘decapitated’. And now I’m being force-fed lots of Qinghe barbeque,” Wen Xu said. “My life is really hard.”

“Why you…!”

Wen Xu sniggered. “How’s it going with Wen Zhuliu?”

“Fine, I think?” Wen Chao said. “He hasn’t actually noticed that the ‘demons’ we’re being hunted by aren’t really demons, but that’s because he’s been mostly drinking away his weird crush on our dad. I think Wen Ning is spiking his drink with something.”

They both turned to look at Wen Ning, who shrugged.

“Couldn’t have happened to a nicer person,” Wen Xu decided. “Are they attacking the Nightless City soon?”

“I think so.”

“What happens then?”

“Dunno.”

“Going to be kind of awkward when we ‘come back from the dead’ to take over.”

“I’m going to blame it on Wei Wuxian and his new weirdo cultivation,” Wen Chao decided. “We’re all sentient corpses he’s resurrected and using to puppet the Wen sect. Wen Ning, you in on this?”

“…sure,” Wen Ning said. “But only if I get first rights on ‘Ghost General’ as a nickname.”

“Oh, that’s a good one.”

“Thanks for the patricide,” Wen Xu said.

“Think nothing of it,” Nie Mingjue said. “Also, say nothing of it. Ever. In fact, let’s never talk again.”

“Can’t do that,” Wen Chao said. “Madame Yu told Jiaojiao that she got that fancy headpiece from Qinghe, so she wants to go there on a shopping trip.”

“Our economy could use the boost, da-ge,” Nie Huaisang said, and Nie Mingjue sighed. “It’s going to be a really big boost. Especially if she convinces Madame Jin from Lanling to come with her.”

“I still can’t believe they made friends,” Wei Wuxian marveled. “It must come from having more money than brains.”

“Brains aren’t exactly what I look for in a partner,” Wen Chao said. “Luckily for you, neither does your boyfriend.”

“Hey, I have brains!”

“You’re certainly intelligent,” Meng Yao – now named Jin Guangyao – told him.

“See?”

“That was an insult,” Nie Mingjue said.

“…hey!”

“When are you coming back to Qinghe?” Nie Huaisang asked Jin Guangyao, who blinked. “I mean, unless you want to spend all your time slaving away for a guy who thought Wen Ruohan was neat.”

“He’s right,” Wen Xu said. “Father or not, don’t do it. It’s not worth it. You’ll end up having to rebel and ask your worst enemies for help and it’s awkward.”

“I appreciate the offer,” Jin Guangyao said. “But I really can’t accept.”

“Why not?” Nie Huaisang asked.

Wen Chao pointed at him. “Seconded.”

Jin Guangyao grimaced at them both. Possibly it was meant to be a smile.

“You don’t have to go to the Unclean Realm, A-Yao,” Lan Xichen said.

“Thank you, er-ge.”

“You can come to the Cloud Recesses instead.”

“Er-ge…”

“Did anyone ever tell the Jin sect that we were working with the Wen heirs?” Nie Mingjue wondered out loud, and everyone frowned. “Because if they don’t know, and Jin Guangshan thinks he’s being subtle with the whole trying to hire Xue Yang thing, things are going to get really awkward.”

“…well, shit,” Jiang Cheng said. “I call not being the one to tell him.”

“Seconded!”

“Cloud Recesses, you said?” Jin Guangyao asked Lan Xichen, who looked pleased.

“I’m leaving,” Wen Xu decided. “I want nothing to do with this disaster. You all have fun now, I’m fucking off back to the Nightless City to live the rest of my life as a very rich man with no life goals.”

“I want to do that,” Nie Huaisang said.

“No,” Nie Mingjue said.

“But –”

“No.”

“Hey,” Wei Wuxian said. “Unrelatedly, anyone have any ideas on what should I do with the whole resentful energy seal thing now?”

“I don’t know,” Wen Chao said. “Play a giant game of keep away with it and then fake your own death?”

#mdzs #wen xu #wen chao #nie mingjue #nie huaisang #jin guangyao #wei wuxian #lan qiren #my fic #my fics #mutiny at the wen sect #Anonymous

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