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reignpage · 2 months ago

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Vice President!Sukuna

Ames: espionage

Contents: angsty, a little sexual so 18+ mdni, confusing, bts of the speed dating event, not proofread, meant to post this before the part 1 but I thought you guys would want to be closer to the reveal, still some people might appreciate the fluff here

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Sukuna mutters.

There, inside Conference Room 3, is a disgusting display of desperation and pitiful misery. Streamers have been thrown all over every surface, desks and chairs arranged in a shit circle and balloons have been blown up and litter the floor.

If he had it his way, this stupid society would have never been allowed to form; the last thing the world needs is more community and whatever rainbow glitter fairy princess propaganda is being spread in this cult.

Well, of course, he technically does have it his way. As president, he could make this society’s life a pain, he could cut their funding, could cancel their bookings for every room, could convince the trustees this is a counter-productive organisation. And if he didn’t want to bother with all that work, he could snap his fingers and have the whole farce disappear in a blink of an eye.

But he doesn’t.

Can’t.

And that makes him grind his teeth even harder. Because there in a seat, facing a pimply faced loser, is you.

His president.

Or rather, was.

Your hair is down, instead of tied up all neat and clean like usual, you’re wearing a dress, it’s new, he can tell, and you’ve even done your makeup. All for whom?

Him?

Some stuttering loser who keeps glancing at your breast like it’s the first time he’s ever seen a bit of cleavage? Or maybe for the guy that replaces him once the alarm blares, signalling the end of the five-minute allotted time for every stranger. This one is even more annoying than the last; his hair is slicked back with an aggressive amount of hair gel, and he’s wearing a suit.

He’s actually wearing a suit.

It’s ill-fitted — blazer too tight around the shoulders but loose and long on the sleeves, and his trousers don’t even reach his ankles. When you scrunch your nose up, Sukuna’s sure, too, that the guy is wearing so much aftershave that he should have bene wearing a hazmat suit instead.

Stupid. All of this is stupid. If a boyfriend is what you’re looking for, then you’re never going to find it here; none of these filthy losers could ever give you what you need.

Sukuna knew it as soon as he laid eyes on you at the campaign day, when you were both handing out flyers and leaflets, and educating people on your policies. Well, he wasn’t handing anything out, he had his assistant, Uraume, do that for him. But, as he leaned back in a chair and watched a line of people form, eager to catch his attention, his eyes kept drifting to you.

You were rigid, stern-looking and a pain to look at. He could tell how badly you wanted it, could see by the way your hands shook, or how passionately you spoke to the other students, and even when you made eye contact with him. Wincing, you forced a smile on your face, trying to look civil but he could see the repulsion in your eyes.

It intrigued him.

That was the very first time he had ever seen you, and yet, somehow you knew he wasn’t a friend. If only others could have that survival instinct, he thought when a girl hugged his arm and asked to take a picture with the future student council president.

Now, look at you.

You’re actually smiling at that freak. It doesn’t meet your eyes and when you laugh it doesn’t make his chest do that weird thing, so he knows it’s fake. A sincere laugh seldom leaves your lips; he gets it, not many people are funny, though most would like to think they are. But he had made you laugh once.

When you were both showing an old alum around, having been told by the Dean to butter him up so he’ll cough up some dough for a new sports hall because apparently the three EdenU has isn’t enough. The stuffy old loser was snappy and bossy and sexist as fuck — he thought you were the assistant and ordered you to fetch him coffee, tissues, a chair and so on.

Sukuna wanted to intervene sooner, his fingers itching to throw a punch, but the firm shake of your head made him fist his hands, vibrating with barely restrained anger. Violence may have been off the cards, but good old mental warfare wasn’t. So, he told Uraume to make sure the family was no longer investing in the loser’s tech start up, effective immediately, and he watched the old man scramble when he got a phone call that turned his face red.

It was when he spluttered his coffee all over himself that you laughed.

Because you’re just like him. — you crave to let everyone know their place, the only difference is, you don’t have the power to back you. Yet.

And when Cheap Suit takes your hand to lay a slobbery kiss all over your knuckles, Sukuna pushes off from the wall he’s been standing by for the better half of an hour and comes to stand before the both of you.

His shadow darkens the table, nervous eyes glancing at him. Your ‘date’ gulps at the intense glare he’s receiving and somehow, good for him, gets the hint. He leaves and Sukuna takes his seat.

“What the fuck?”

For someone so clean and put together, you have a terribly dirty mouth. It makes him want to clean it out with soap, or something else entirely. And now that he’s sitting in front of you, he actually understands why the men you’ve been talking to couldn’t keep their eyes off your chest.

Goddamn, he wants to bury his face in there.

“Stop staring at my tits, idiot,” you snark, face contorted into pure frustration. “Why the fuck are you here?”

Rolling his eyes, he leans back in the chair, crossing his arms. With a drawl, he argues back, “Can’t I be here? I have every right to, prez.”

Your mood sours when you hear that from him and you lean back too, fingers drumming as you count down the minutes until the alarm blares. Everyone else is having a good time, smiling and laughing and exchanging numbers. But not you. Nope. Never. Because the universe hates you.

“Don’t call me that.”

His brow ticks up. “Why not? You are the prez.”

“I’m not anymore.”

His eyes darken impossibly more, narrowing, and the people next to you shuffle uncomfortably in their seats as if they could feel that malevolent energy radiating off him. At least it isn’t directed at them. Lucky.

“You’re always going to be the prez.”

The alarm goes off, shrill and overly joyful. You both wince.

But when the next guy stands by, he has to shuffle his feet awkwardly, uncertain at why the pink-haired man is refusing to move and isn’t even looking at him. Eventually, seeing that Sukuna’s made himself all too comfortable in his seat, the guy skips over to the next vacant table.

You exhale through your nose, trying to count to ten.

“Why do you have to ruin everything?” You hiss.

He rolls his eyes again and fires back, “You’re being dramatic. None of these guys are your type, so I’m just saving you from wasting your time. You’re welcome.”

Your eye twitches. “What do you know about me?”

Sukuna cocks his head, looking over at you with interest, like you’ve just said something funny. And then, he tips his chin over at the double doors. “Let’s get outta here. It’s hot as shit and these people stink.”

“No.”

“No?”

You cross your own arms and huff. “I’m not going anywhere.”

With a laugh, deep and menacing, his eyes twinkle and you feel your heart drop to your ass. Oh shit.

“You’re leaving here, with me. Either willingly or thrown over my shoulder. Your choice, prez.”

And you know he’s telling the truth, can see it in the way he’s sitting up, eyeing the space around you so he can calculate the best angle and placement. He’s determining the amount of space between the tables and the firmness of the table and the chairs, and trying to determine if anyone would dare put up a fight.

Groaning in your hands, you push the chair back and leave without looking anywhere else. You can’t take the amused or confused looks people would throw at you, and you certainly can’t take the smug grin on his face. He always gets what he wants. Fucking Ryomen prince.

The evening breeze is colder than the last time you had been in this position with him. And that night seems so long ago and yet it’s as if it’s happening right now, because you had never moved on, it still haunts you. That professor’s lingering hands can never be washed off. The Dean made sure of that.

“So, you’re doing yoga and speed dating,” he comes up next to you, hands stuffed in his pockets.

You shrug. “I’ve also joined the Green Thumb and the Volleyball Society.”

“Volleyball, huh?” Sukuna looks you over with a small smirk and then it’s like he remembered something because he shakes his head with a frustrated growl. “Why the fuck are you doing all that shit?”

You both walk off, not doing anything in particular or heading somewhere special. Just like last time.

“I have a lot of time now, like you said.” It’s cold and you’re just wearing a dress, you shiver.

He scoffs behind you, nudging you with an elbow. “Didn’t bring my varsity jacket, so suck it up.”

“Wasn’t gonna ask anyways,” you mutter, and you’re aware by the glare he throws at you that you both know you’re lying.

Eventually, you reach the park. It’s dark and empty and you feel fear prick the back of your neck. Sukuna is not the kind of man you should be walking at night, alone, with. Sure, you’re confident he wouldn’t lay a finger on you, but you’re also not convinced he doesn’t have a snake den ready for you to trip and fall into.

“You’re doing all sorts, but you haven’t come to a basketball game,” he grumbles.

“Why would I?”

Sukuna scoffs, strolling leisurely and unbothered by the cool breeze that gives you goosebumps, he’s also assessing the environment around, like the rustling bushes contained machetes and machine guns. Always so suspicious.

He’s been everywhere recently. He was there when you were painting the landscape on a Wednesday afternoon, when you were doing a book club on the Quad, and even when you were walking back late from the Exotic Dance Society. You don’t know why you joined that last one; it sounded kind of fun.

When you shiver, he groans. And then he’s keeping a firm hand on your shoulder, stilling you both. In a flash, you’re being pressed against a tree, his front holding you down. Spluttering, you try to push him off you, but his body is like a wall, all solid and unyielding. And it’s just like the party when he held you and swayed to silent music.

But Sukuna’s warm and it feels good, so you stop fighting.

“Alright, enough chit-chat,” he growls in your face. Gone is all the civility, the politeness and propriety, or at least his version of it. “Tell me why you quit.”

“Fuck you,” you spit back at him.

“We can do that, too,” he sneers. “But I want an explanation now.”

When you feel something hard poking your stomach, you know he means it. And God fucking damn it, you hate that you’re wet. It’s poor survival skills to be attracted to a monster, you’re guaranteed a slow death as a prey. Your heartbeat is going a hundred miles per hour, chest heaving and rubbing against his.

Sukuna looks so angry, face sharpened into focus as he searches your eyes for the truth. But even as he pins you to a tree in an empty park, his desire is present, and he’s so much bigger and stronger than you, all you want is for him to kiss you. You want him to stop asking questions, to stop reminding you of everything you’ve lost, and to just satisfy that itch between you two, to alleviate the tension that’s been building up.

It was always going to boil down to this.

“Sign the papers, Sukuna,” you whisper.

He hates how soft your voice is, how calm and comforting it’s become. He wants to be mad, wants to fight so he can shout and scream and bully you into submission, like he’s done with everyone else. Like he did with stupid pricks who egged your window and the professor who dared touch you with his filthy, undeserving hands.

“Tell me why you left me, prez,” he mutters back.

You hate how desperate he sounds, how his lips are plush and gentle against your cheek as he noses at your hairlines, inhaling deep and with a groan before burying his face into the crook of your neck. His hands move from beside your heads and onto your hips, keeping you still, like he’s afraid you’re going to run off.

“Sukuna,” you begin, “I don’t want to play this game.” Your voice is scratchy, and your vision is blurring. God, this is so humiliating. You’re actually going to cry.

“Then don’t.”

Hands pushing at his shoulders, you try to wriggle out of his hold. This is bad. You shouldn’t feel this way, shouldn’t care. You should hate him but he’s holding you like you’re the only thing grounding him and it feels nice, to be held, by him. It feels like all is right in the world, like you have everything in the palms of your hands.

But it isn’t and you don’t.

“Sukuna. Let me go.”

He must have heard something in your voice. Maybe the strain in it or the desperation. Whatever it was, it makes him pulls away. He’s not looking at you, just breathing hard and clenching his fists at his sides. He’s livid.

No, there’s something more.

It’s reflecting what’s inside of you.

But you can’t dwell on it. You aren’t ready to explain, to remind him of what he did two years ago, of what he’s done now. And you aren’t sure if it’s because you’re too cowardly to return to that point in your life you’ve been trying to pretend never happened or if it’s because you don’t want the way he looks at you to change.

So, you walk away, stumbling and clutching yourself to bring warmth back. And when he yells at you, you don’t look back.

“This will never be over between us,” he growls, “over my dead body, prez.”

#jjk x reader #jjk sukuna ryomen #jjk fluff #jjk crack #jjk angst #sukuna x reader #sukuna fluff #sukuna angst

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dcxdpdabbles · 2 months ago

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DCxDP: Travel Buddy

"I already told you I'm not going to another country! I'm going to New Mexico!" The shout echoes with frustration across the airport. Dick looks up from his phone to where a man is arguing with a woman behind a counter. She has a pinched grimace on her face, an expression only those who have worked in customer service are familiar with.

It's the look of someone who dances on the line of "I don't need to up with this bullshit. I don't need this job" and "Think of your bills, think of your check, stay calm."

There is a long line behind him, where everyone is making faces at the delay.

Dick often preferred to travel with Justice League tech, as nothing beat the speed of instant teleportation, but he needed to have some records of traveling the normal for his civilian identity. It would be suspicious if he was seen worldwide with no signs of how he got there.

It was a necessary evil to have his loveable wanderlust persona that was Dick Grayson-Wayne. He had taken a few aspects of Brucie Wayne but replaced the playboy reputation with a restlessness that couldn't stand being in one place for too long.

Growing up with people constantly pointing out how attractive he was, which would have been fine were it not for the rich old men and women who leered at him through his teen years. He could not stomach being a playboy, allowing those who objectified him to think he enjoyed their attention.

It was easier to be the easily distracted, pretty son who was always away from home instead. It helped that Bruce had plenty of private jets to gift his son for whatever whimsy urge to move hit him. That was why he was in Illinois today.

Dick's jet had needed to stop for some fuel, and like most commercial airlines, they were told that they needed to wait before heading up again. They may have enough money to afford their own planes, but commercial planes have the right of way.

Then a storm was reported at Gotham Airlines, and his pilot told Dick they were grounded until it cleared up. It could be a delay of six hours.

Dick didn't mind, having told his staff to take a break. If it got too bad, he would buy everyone a hotel room to try again tomorrow. His private jet staff seemed stunned by the offer, insisting they could wait to see if it was clear enough to fly in a few hours.

He had decided he wanted to have some crappy airport snacks, as it was part of the experience, and walked around the airport munching on his chocolate donut. He found a little booth selling local coffee, prompting him to find a seat near the welcome counter and scroll through his phone.

He still had three hours to kill, so he considered exploring the area a little. I suggest finding some hotels just in case. There was little in this place. The closest city was Amity Park, but it was only beside the mall and a decent burger joint; there was little to do.

It was one of those small towns that, despite not having many people, was well spread out due to all the open spaces. The people who lived there either raised a family, retired or had bloodlines traced generations back to the town's founding.

"Sir, as I stated before, you need a passport, and you have to pay for an international ticket to go to Mexico," The woman hissed. Some people in line began muttering about how annoying the man was for arguing.

"All I have is my driver's license. I could go home for my passport. That's no issue, but I am not paying for an international ticket to Mexico when I am not going there! I'm staying in the US! New Mexico is a state!" the man shouts, flailing his long black trenchcoat. It makes the black ponytail swing side to side as he leans on the counter. "How do you work in travel and not know that!?"

"What is going on here?" A man demands, stepping beside the gumming woman. Dick can tell he is the manager just by the way his uniform looks different.

"This man is refusing to listen." The counter lady practically spits and is now leaning well over the "I don't need this job" side of the customer service line. Dick finds himself standing up as the manager gets a quick rundown of the problem.

The crowd was getting impatient, even with the two other representatives slowly calling up the next customer. Curious by the outcome, Dick drifts closer, listening to the man explain that he wants to go to New Mexico to study the enormous reports of violent paranormal sightings.

He was apparently visiting all highly haunted states in the US to write a book about the history of the hauntings, but when he was attempting to get his ticket, the woman had been convinced he was leaving the country. Dick watched in real-time as the manager also seemed to think New Mexico was in Mexico because he began to explain the international policy to the fuming man.

They threatened to put him on the no-fly list if he continued causing them trouble. That angered the traveler even more, and he raised his voice and waved his arms as he insisted the location be within the country.

Dick pulls out his phone, typing with one thumb quickly and pulling up a map of the country. He slid right next to the trio, standing at the stranger's left with an easy smile.

"Excuse me, can I have a moment of your time?" He asks

The woman's frustration is now nearing its tipping point, but the manager must have recognized him, for he hastily scrambles to make his expression more pleasant.

"Mr. Grayson-Wayne! Please give me one moment to sort this out. I can help you if that's okay with you. I'm sorry for the delay. Karen, call security to have this man escorted out."

"What!?" Demands the guy as the woman grins.

"With pleasure."

"New Mexico is a US state, " Dick cuts in, displaying his screen. "It's been one since 1912, I'm afraid."

The airline employees are pale as they stare at his phone before the manager pulls it out of his pocket and types rapidly on it. A few seconds later, his already white face goes even whiter.

Dick considers the man next to him, who has a grin starting to bloom on his face. It's a pretty handsome face if he's honest. A dig has him looking away towards his phone.

It's a message from his pilot. It seems the storm was due to Mr. Freeze, and they weren't expecting it to clear for at least four days. He was asking if there was anywhere else Dick wanted to fly to.

"I'm so sorry. I'll bump you up to first class." The manager says to the stranger, who is looking rather smug now. Dick considers his pilot's question before thinking, why not.

He does have an image to uphold, after all.

"Would you like a ride in my private jet? " Dick turns to the man, who blinks at him while cutting off the rambling of the woman and the manger. "I can drop you off wherever you want in New Mexico. Where were you headed?"

"Ugh, I wanted to visit Dawnson Cemetry, " the man stammers. "I-do you really have a private jet?"

"Yeah. Would you like to go with me?"

There is a moment of hesitation before the man grabs his wallet off the counter and nods. "If it's not too much trouble," he responds cautiously.

"It's not. I'm Dick Grayson-Wayne, by the way."

"Danny Fenton."

Dick waves the two employees away, winking at them as they slump in relief that Danny doesn't seem to want to make this into an incident. Likely, he had just been upset they weren't listening.

"Most haunted places in the US, huh?" Dick asks while sending a text to his crew. He gets confirmation that they can head over to the southwest post haste. "Aren't you scared of ghosts?"

Danny gives an odd little smirk. "I haven't been afraid of ghosts since I was fourteen."

Dick stares at his mouth a little too long, swinging his gaze back to his phone when he gets a message from Bruce. His dad had been informed of the flight change and was using the coded message to confirm Dick being the one to change it.

He types out a response, ignoring the fluttering of his heart. If he checks to see what other states are highly haunted as Danny looks around his jet with a fallen jaw, that's only because he has four days to kill.

#dcxdpdabbles #dcxdp crossover #Travel buddy #Part 1 #death defying #New Mexico is a state and the haunted capital of the southwest #Guess why Danny is going to places with dangerous ghosts?#Dick's public persona is the rich boy always on the road #You take the boy out of the traveling circus but you can't take he traveling circus out of the boy #That woman and manger fear Danny will sue #Meet Cute at airport

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deesseshesca · 2 months ago

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PAC :How will your partner treat u during pregnancy ? (18+)

Foreigner ... Foreigner ...

IF YOU BOOKED A PERSONAL READING 6 DEC 2024 ON KO-FI PLZ DM ME ( I TRIED CONTACTING YOU BUT NOTHING WORKS)

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FIRE TO THE MOON

FUTURE LOVE + SEX DOUALA = 40$ (2for1)

DOWN TO MY CORE

CHARACTER UPDAPTE + LORE DUMP = 40$ (2for1)

PILE 1

Ace of wands

3 swords (reverse)

First he is going to be hella proud. Like it boots his ego when he knows you are walking around carrying his offspring. Anybody that’s laying their eyes on you knows you are pregnant and y’all must be pregnant by them because everyone knows you and him go together real bad. No question required. Plus he is so giddy about eventually having the proof of your love walking around. I am hearing : ‘’ Yeah … I did that. Remember when I told you I was going to marry her and give her babies’’. Not in a cocky way but a more loving and boastful way. Maybe you were always the type of person to never settle, that would run at the thought of committing to one man, you would just throw up at the thought of opening up to a penis… Now what do we have here: a wedding ring and a waddling mother. Y’all may be in your maneater era don’t worry babe … enjoy. Mother era is waiting to be unlocked. Plus they are extra horny for you. They want you whenever and however. If you guys have a BDSM or quite experimental relationship, good for you. You will wake up often with a tongue between your legs. Which to some point will actually annoy you because y’all may suffer from morning sickness. I see you standing hair in a perfect bun (important to mention because in all my vision your hair is tight up. Maye because you usually have your hair down … who knows) and you are complaining about all your pregnancy symptoms, especially the heat. I am channeling a summer pregnancy for a lot of y’all , whether it be your first or your last. He just out here staring at you like a vampire in need of blood because all he's thinking about is taking you to pound town. Warning to all my future plus size mama, is going to be even harder for you. Your man is going to be IN LOVE with that ass. Everytime he sees you walk away, he grows a little harder. ( I am serious, let's hold hands for all our plus size baddies … Amen). Also his heart is overflowing with love. I actually see him going crazy every time he sees a cute outfit. I am hearing : ‘’ Babe look at this … Omg soo cute. No look at this is fucking cuter … No baby baby look … it’s say - I HEART DADDY’’. You just stand there behind with a tight smile blaming your mom brain fog because you know to always skip the kids section. Now the 15 minutes run has become 30 minutes and your feet hurt already. A lot of rituals will be created and you better not take his place. He loves rubbing oil on your stomach and after making sure you are sleeping … he always makes sure to remind the baby to allow you to rest. Whatever you need he’s on it. You speak once and it’s done. You can’t handle meat during pregnancy … ok the whole house is now vegetarian. You can’t sleep … ok he is dealing with the morning shift of the household. You hate when people approach you and public … ok activated mean muggin husband. You want, you got it babes.

PREVIOUS READING

2) Wanna know the love story the universe has for you? 💫 In 8 parts, I spill all: first meet, first kiss, confession, sexy time, and more. Don’t miss out! 👀💖 (LINK)

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PILE 2

5 swords (reverse)

Hierophant (reverse)

This news is going to bring you guys together. I don’t think there would be distance between y'all. But stress is winning in this relationship. You guys are both thriving in your profession and ego is getting the best of y’all. Like you both think that the other is not doing enough romantically and that you respectively are doing too much. Nothing extravagant nor toxic but the honeymoon is not honey no more. Still a lot of love but the focus is not it no more but more who is right.

They are going to love seeing you work while being pregnant. Is important for you to go to work not because it is necessary just in your bones to work. So you want to do it until your body tells you to stop. They are going to support you to the best of their ability. They will prepare your outfit the night before, add belly cream in your bag, make sure to pack a healthy and big lunch for you and the baby, will try to always drop you off and pick you up from work. Lowkey giving house husband don’t be a fool he still very much a bossbabe himself because I can only picture him in suits. Y’all are definitely a power couple. Anyway he loves your dedication so he does everything he can to ensure the baby's protection and help achieve your goal. What’s wrong with y’all partner … they out here having the nastiest thoughts for all of you. First they are going to try to control their needs. I do think when y’all usually go at it … it gets pretty animalistic and they fucking love it. But they are trying to keep a distance between their thoughts and action but y’all are going to be needy and are going to ask for it. Not your men trying to keep it together while you are teasing him and you don’t give a fuck about it. I see y'all eating maybe at dinner with your friend and you ask ‘’ Are you going to fuck me tonight ?’’ Somebody is choking but your husband is unfazed.

‘’ I put my stiletto heels on today, you know how much they hurt my feet.

Babe I told you not to wear those’’, he adds while feeding you. ( By the way … y’all have a cute pouting face

But babeeee’’

The reality is he was actually scared to hurt the baby. He needs got darker and you’ve been needier and that’s a scary mix in his opinion.

PREVIOUS READING

2) Wanna know the love story the universe has for you? 💫 In 8 parts, I spill all: first meet, first kiss, confession, sexy time, and more. Don’t miss out! 👀💖 (LINK)

3) For ALL DECEMBER get 2 readings for the price of 1 : LINK

4) IF YOU BOOKED A PERSONAL READING 6 DEC 2024 ON KO-FI PLZ DM ME ( I TRY CONTACTING YOU BUT NOTHING WORKS)

PILE 3

Ace of swords (reverse)

9 wands (reverse)

Y’all are not in a committed relationship when this bundle of enjoy arrives in your life.

Is going to be a life changing experience. Like theirs is clearly before the baby and after the baby in his life timeline. I think he was always serious about his feelings for you but was too scared to end up hurt that he would push you away subtly. Funny enough I would be the first to call bullshit, I ain't never been scared to do that … y’all know that. STAY is not giving bullshit. Is giving a broken boy. He is scared you are going to walk away in his life or that he is going to lose his mind 2 just like the people that were supposed to raise him but end up abusing him. He keeps you away to protect you and you know it. Something about y’all relationship, y’all are not together but everyone knows it is just to 2 of y’all. He doesn't talk to no other, he doesn't look at other girls, I don’t even think he interacts with any other girl but you. You are the only one he craves, wand, need and desire but he is too scared to break you. So you accept the no name relationship so he can slowly come to term with the fact that you are not going anywhere. Then a miracle knocks on the door. I can clearly see their mouths wide open when they are listening the baby's heart. Like they just have a life epiphany. You are laying on your back like a stick observing nervously their reaction because you want to keep it. They may walk in extremely nervous and a bit dismissive but the sec that they heard that baby … they are coming out the most confident man. They change forever. They used to be apathetic about life and now they are all about living each day like it is their last. They will do extra shifts at work to give you the dream experience. Babymoon, baecation, push present, being a SAHM, everything is given. They don’t play about their baby's health, they are coming at every baby appointment, they are asking all the damm questions. They also don’t want drama around you. You know when you are pregnant everybody becomes an adviser which can be quite annoying because fuck off this is my baby. I am hearing: ‘’ I don’t want to breastfeed but your mama- ‘’Fuck what my mama said. Do whatever you want (name)”. I can clearly hear them going on and on about how all they care is to make sure they 2 babies are always fulfilled.

PREVIOUS READING

2) Wanna know the love story the universe has for you? 💫 In 8 parts, I spill all: first meet, first kiss, confession, sexy time, and more. Don’t miss out! 👀💖 (LINK)

3) For ALL DECEMBER get 2 readings for the price of 1 : LINK

4)IF YOU BOOKED A PERSONAL READING 6 DEC 2024 ON KO-FI PLZ DM ME ( I TRY CONTACTING YOU BUT NOTHING WORKS)

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dollfacefantasy · 1 year ago

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Special Day

pairing: mafia!leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: this year your husband wants to give you a special present for your birthday

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, oral (fem receiving), fingering, daddy kink, breeding kink

word count: 5.2k

a/n: birthday fic for someone i am so happy to know and call my friend, @explorevenus. i love her so so much, she's one of the most fun and kindest people i have ever known. she's so totally cool and you all should wish her a very happy birthday.

For my pretty little doll on her special day. I’ll see you tonight. I love you.

That’s the message scrawled onto the scrap of paper that’s attached to the hanger on the closet door. On the hanger, dangled one of the prettiest dresses you’d ever seen in your life. Your favorite color, flowy and shimmering. Of the hundreds of things he’d asked you to wear over the course of your relationship, this had to be in the top three.

It almost made up for the fact that he was going to be on the job for nearly the entire day. You weren’t even confident he’d make it home in time for the dinner reservations you had, but if you had to be alone, at least you would look good doing it.

If anything, you tried not to let his absence bother you too much because it could be worse. You make a point to yourself to remember that today wasn’t like years ago when you would’ve spent the whole day at work just to come home to an empty house. So far you've spent it out, getting your nails done, lunch at one of your favorite places, some light shopping. And it was all on his dime. This was the one day a year where he truly gave you no limits, no allowance, no teasing about your debit card being worn out. Your birthday always was about letting you indulge in anything you wanted as much as your heart desired. You reminded yourself of that when you felt the familiar pain of longing tighten up your chest.

It wasn’t like the feeling was a foreign one. He’d been at work on every birthday you’d had since the two of you got together. He’d treat you to the shopping spree combined with sending you a lavish arrangement of flowers, chocolates, stuffed animals, or whatever you had been wanting that year. Then he’d come to you the next day, or once you started living together, in the middle of the night. Always climbing into bed or coming up behind you with a hushed “‘m sorry, babydoll” and some gentle kisses to your head. And you’d never complain because the next day before you even had a chance to get annoyed, an expensive new bracelet would be on your wrist, and he’d deliver his apologies between your legs with his tongue, fingers, or cock. Your choice.

For the week leading up to your birthday this year, you had just been silently hoping it would be different. Considering he had been spending more time with you lately, and less time in sketchy meetings, it didn’t seem unreasonable. The higher he climbed in the dark world that he worked in, the closer you came to living the glamorous life he’d promised you from the beginning. His higher position scored the two of you the penthouse you currently sat in. It got you vacations to exotic places and clothes you previously only would’ve been able to afford in your wildest fantasies.

The sun had just begun to set, casting a warm orange-pink haze over your room. You figured you should put on the outfit he’d chosen for you. Lifting the dress up, you realize there’s something else attached to the hanger. Obscured from view at first glance is a delicate lingerie set, lacy pink bra and panties with rosebuds embroidered across them in rows. A smile rises on your lips as you slip off the clothing you had on and unclip the dainty articles from the hanger. Your fingertips smooth over the lace while visions of Leon’s hands dancing across your chest, squeezing your breasts and pinching your nipples, flash through your mind.

You slide the thin straps onto your arms and reach behind to clasp it into place. Then you pull the panties up, looking in the mirror at how they fit over your hips. The dress comes after these. You put it on and are left blown away by his choice for you. It looked good. Showed you off, highlighted your assets in the most flattering way.

As you admire your reflection, the main doors to the apartment open and close. Keys rattle as they’re dropped on the side table. He enters the bedroom and you hear a hum of adoration rumble from his chest.

“There’s the birthday girl,” he says softly as he makes his way to you.

Your eyes capture his gaze with a fond glance. He’d actually made it back when he said he would. Maybe things were looking up. You turn your back to him, revealing the parted fabric that left your back and the hem of your panties exposed.

“Zip me up?” you request.

Without a word, he pulls you close by your waist. You knew he loved doing this. Picking what you wore and watching your body slip into it, filling out his fantasies. His fingers tug the zipper upward and secure the dress together. He presses a tender kiss to your neck and inhales a deep breath of his favorite scent in the whole world, your perfume. His arms wrap around you as his palms rub down your body, over your belly and to your hips. He leaves a few more smooches on your throat as he directs your stare back to the mirror.

“That dress looks gorgeous on you. My perfect little doll,” he murmurs.

“Thank you,” you respond, catching his eyes in the reflective glass ahead of you. You scan the picture in front of you. His large frame engulfing yours, damn near lovesick expression on his face, hands and arms as possessive as they could be in such a basic stance.

“No, thank you,” he says, “You been having a nice day? Being a good girl? Staying safe?”

You sink back against his chest more as his low voice seeps out against your skin. “Mhm,” you answer with a slight nod.

“Yeah? You ready to have some more fun tonight?” he whispers, lips brushing your earlobe.

You nod, sweet and docile. God, it was like you melted in his presence. Could never hold onto anything with him around. It all went out the window in order to get his praise and feel the warmth of his affection on you.

“That’s my baby,” he coos with one more wet kiss on your cheek. He backs up as if he’s about to let you go, but as you turn around, he grabs your jaw. The pads of his fingertips gently dig into the flesh of your cheeks. In that loving and condescending tone that sent heat rushing through your body, he asks, “Who’s my pretty girl?”

It was such a simple thing. You didn’t know why it worked, but it always did. A big smile spreads across your face, and your eyes flit away with timid modesty.

“Me,” you confirm, tone soft but sure.

“That’s right,” he says simply and pulls you into an actual kiss.

After that, you’re almost giddy, high off the small gesture. It made your blood run hot and your head swim with a dizzy feeling of love. You all but prance to the rack against the wall that holds your shoes. Slipping on some matching heels, you face him once more and do a little motion to show off the completed look.

He chuckles at your twirl and opens his arms. You immediately go to him and find your place in his grasp. Kissing the top of your head, he mutters “What’d I do to get the sweetest girl in the world all to myself, hm?”

You shrug, and that’s all he needs before the two of you are ready to go. He stuffs his wallet in his pocket and walks towards the elevator with you tucked to his side. His fingers coast down your jaw and stroke your hair. Your eyes stay locked on him from the doors shutting to the little ding letting you know the trip is over.

The two of you float outside to the luxury car Leon rode around in now. Not even drove because he had been given a driver recently. All the two of you had to do was simply slip into the backseat.

He holds you close, nearly on his lap for the duration of the ride. One hand massages the back of your neck, keeping your head against his shoulder. The other delves beneath the skirt of your dress only to knead your plush thighs and feel your skin between his fingers. All the attention keeps your head spinning and your body craving his love.

It’s only around twenty minutes before the car pulls to a stop in front of the restaurant. You’re greeted by the familiar twinkling lights and neon letters of one of your favorite places. You beam at him and take his hand. He watches your pleasant reaction, so pleased he could make you happy with something so simple.

Getting in is quick and painless since he had called ahead of time, dead set on making this as special for you as possible. You’re seated at a booth in the back. It’s not completely private, but well secluded from the other patrons filling seats.

He slides in first, grinning as he pats the cushioning next to him. You follow, and immediately, he pulls you close. Your thighs are squished against each other beneath the table. His lips are caressing your neck as you skim the menu causing you to squirm and laugh softly.

“You get anything you want, pretty baby. Tonight’s all about my precious girl,” he whispers.

You nod and nuzzle into the affection a bit, brushing your nose with his. After deciding what you want, he orders your meal and drink. The two of you talk, and from this alone, it seems to be shaping up into the perfect night. You talk about everything and anything, catching up with him like you hadn’t in a while. You see the Leon you love, your Leon. The guy who comes home late with dark eyes and a flat voice is nowhere to be found, and you couldn’t be more pleased. He stays close the entire time, seemingly not able to help how touchy he was with you.

Eventually, your orders arrive, and things continue to look up. Your smile won’t leave your face as you eat and drink. Laughs fly between the two of you like neither of you had ever seen something bad in your lives. It’s only hours later, towards the end of dinner when you can see him simmering down a bit. His expression grows more serious. Different from usual though. It’s not stern. It’s more… vulnerable. He pulls you flush against him yet again and squeezes his arms around you softly.

“I’m happy you’re having a good time, sweetheart. You know I love seeing that pretty smile. And you should know, I’ve wanted your birthday to turn out this perfect every year. But now I can actually provide that,” he says, continuing to grow more genuine.

You nod, not totally sure where he’s going here but eager to find out.

“Usually, I’d have something big for you to open at the end of your day,” he starts. He almost looks nervous at this point, and it’s concerning you, “This year, I don’t have anything like that because I thought we might do something different for your main gift.”

You look up at him and shift your body to face him a little more. He had your attention now. You try to mentally run through different possibilities for a different kind of big present. Vacation? No, you’d done that before. Moving? That also seemed unlikely. Maybe it was related to his work? You honestly had no clue.

“What is it?” you ask.

“I think it’s time we start trying for a baby,” he says, his eyes going soft and his voice dropping to be more hushed.

Your heart jolts inside your chest. You almost don’t believe you heard him right. He must have said something else. That or he was just playing the most cruel joke in the entire world.

“But you said you didn’t want any?” you say skeptically.

“I know I did. But… I was wrong,” he says with a slight smile.

Leon had told you on each rare occasion that the topic of kids came up that he did not want any under any circumstances. This life was too dangerous, he wouldn’t have time for them, he wanted you all to himself. All were reasons you’d heard over the years. You’d honestly just shoved your small hopes for a family away because he seemed certain of his position on the topic. You’d come to terms that it would never happen. It was him or the white picket fence fantasy, and you’d chosen him with no real hesitation.

“And you just changed your mind out of the blue?” you ask.

He shakes his head with a chuckle. He kisses your pulse point as his fingers start tracing small circles on your arm. “No, no. I’ve been thinking about this for a while,” he whispers.

Your breath hitches at the sensation of his mouth on your skin again. You tilt your head back and shut your eyes, letting him work. You were already buzzed from the drinks you had, and this wasn’t making it easier to think through your line of questioning.

“I’ve been having these dreams, y’know,” he breathes as if he senses your uncertainty, “Once every couple days, I’m seeing you pregnant. You’re looking fucking gorgeous, belly swollen and bright smile on your face. Then I wake up. And after a few times, I realized I don’t want that to only be a dream anymore.”

He continues trailing his mouth along your skin, leaving small love bites scattered throughout the sheen remnants of saliva. Your head is swirling with the mix of his actions and words, and what it means. He wanted you pregnant. It didn’t sound real to you even with his brief explanation.

“You want to change the entire direction of our lives because you had a few dreams?” you ask.

He laughs softly into the crook of your neck. “I’d been thinking about it anyway. I’m not getting any younger, baby. I guess I’ve softened in my old age cause what I want more than anything is to see my precious little doll holding our baby,” he says with a mix of teasing and seriousness in his voice.

It makes you smile and exhale with amusement. You turn your face in his direction and catch his lips in a real kiss. When he pulls away, his breath is coming out in heavier puffs. His eyes, blown out with love, are locked in a stare with you. His hand slips down to your midriff, palm flattening over your tummy.

“It wasn’t so hard to realize, babydoll. I’d be fucking insane to not want to see you carrying my baby. You’ll be the prettiest little mama,” he whispers.

His voice had become huskier, his thumb moving back and forth on your bottom lip. You were completely enraptured with him right now. Your head was growing fuzzier by the second, and the desire for him to fuck you full of cum was only getting stronger.

“You can’t even understand how much I’ll love watching that belly grow. How it’ll start sticking out of every shirt you have till we have to buy you a whole set of new ones,” he murmurs against your skin, “And don’t even get me started on how these are gonna fill out.” His hand moves to your breasts, gripping the plump flesh under his palm .

Now your breath was picking up a bit too. You shift in your seat in an attempt to alleviate the building tension in your center. His kisses become more aggressive and simple touches morph into rougher grabs.

“I’m not gonna be able to keep my hands off you, babydoll. Gonna have to fuck you like we’re still trying even when you’re in the last few months,” he grunts.

The softest whimper escapes you, but he hears it. You feel his smirk against your skin. He lightly nips at your throat and pulls back, letting you see his smug expression in its entirety.

“You like that idea, yeah?” he coos quietly, “So much attention for you, baby. Constantly being doted on. You’re not gonna lift a finger for nine months. Gonna let me take care of everything while all your energy goes into growing our baby.”

You look up at him helplessly. Big, sweet eyes that remind him of a puppy. He grins as your head bobs up and down in a nod.

“My good fucking girl. Let’s get out of here,” he says.

You’re quick to follow him out of the booth after he drops a couple bills on the table. Your fingers lace with his as he leads you to the main doors and back to the car. You take him in as he guides you. Just a few moments to admire his broad shoulders and muscular biceps. His protective grip and eyes that seemed serious to everyone else, but you could tell held more mischievous intent.

Once you reach the car, he opens the door for you, giving you a quick smack on the ass as you climb in. He’s right next to you after that, and as the engine comes to life, you almost wish he’d waited to have that conversation in here instead. Because now you were gonna have to sit here, turned on and untouched for the ride back. Heated skin and glossy eyes, it was pretty obvious how you were feeling. Most likely everyone in that restaurant and the driver sitting one seat in front of you all knew that Leon was going to fuck you dumb as soon as you stepped through the doors to your apartment.

You come to figure though, that if it’s already so obvious, what’s the harm in being a little more overt? Scooting over to him, you lean into his firm side. He looks down at you knowingly. Your fingers curl over his thick thigh, nearly brushing the most sensitive area of his lap.

“Feeling a little impatient?” he teases softly.

You nod. Sure your driver could hear murmuring, you just hoped he couldn’t make out exact words.

“Yeah, what do you want me to do about it?” he mocks, “You need Daddy’s fingers in that tight cunt? Can’t even wait till we get home to cum?”

You bite your lip to muffle the whine blooming in your throat. Your face burns at the use of the title that melted your mind down to a few simple words. Yes Daddy. Thank you Daddy. Pretty please. Wanna cum.

With another nod, you sink further into his chest. Your eyes remain up and keep their focus on him.

“Well, since it’s your birthday…” he starts. His hand swoops beneath your dress, bypassing your thighs this time and cupping your pussy, fingers coasting over the damp fabric.

You were pulsing with desire, your heart thudding against your chest. He pulls your lacy garment to the side to run his digits through your folds and feel the slick that had gathered for him. A low chuckle leaves him, and all you can think is how grateful you are for the radio being turned on, no matter how low the volume. From how wet you were, you were sure in dead silence you’d be able to hear more lewd noises than the words spilling from Leon’s mouth.

“Oh, you really can’t wait. You’re already making a mess all over my seats,” he whispers.

The pad of his finger swirls over your clit, and you hum quietly in relief. The pressure in the pit of your belly releases a bit as the warm flow of pleasure courses through you. Your eyes flutter shut, your hands hook around his arm for comfort, and you press your face to his shoulder to obscure your reactions to the feeling.

“My perfect little doll. I press the right button and look how well you behave,” he breathes.

You suck in a breath, narrowly avoiding a whimper tumbling into the car. He plays with your bundle of nerves for a minute more before slipping two fingers down and slipping them inside you.

Your fingers dig into the sleeve of his suit, clutching it as he pumps in and out of you. He works himself in, up to his knuckles. Your thighs part a little more to give him some space to work with. He shakes his head and playfully tuts at the display of need.

“Poor baby, Daddy got you so worked up, didn’t he?” he coos softly against your head.

You nod quickly. All your focus is on keeping quiet as his fingers move between your walls as you clamp around them. He smiles and continues lightly. It was your birthday so he would be nice, wouldn’t try to embarrass you too bad.

You’re so wrapped up in the throes of ecstasy he’s bringing you that you don’t even notice when the car has stopped. The only thing you notice is his fingers are now gone and you feel painfully empty.

Your eyes dart up when you lose the warm, filling sensation. Unlike usual, you contain your whine of protest as you realize your moments away from getting what you really wanted.

Like a movie of the beginning of the evening playing in reverse, you both make your way back to the elevator. He keeps a firm hold on your hand as he takes the lead. You stumble behind, all but collapsing in his arms once you're in the elevator. He leans down into some sloppy kisses. Your tongues meet, and your lips smoosh against each other fervently as if you’re running out of time.

After what seems like forever, you hear that little ding, and he wastes no time pulling you into the apartment. You’re kissing on the way to the bedroom, hands roaming one another as you bump into furniture and nearly knock clutter off tables. His suit jacket is gone before the bed is even in sight. Buttons on his shirt had already been popped open as he throws you on the bed.

He climbs on top of you, continuing to make out with you for a moment. His lips start to head south, finding their place on your neck again while his hands start pushing up the skirt of your dress to bunch it at your waist. There was no teasing tonight. You were the birthday girl after all, and he intended to keep his word that the evening was about you.

His entire body drifts downward now. Placing himself on the end of the mattress, you nearly can’t see him from fabric that was hiked up. You can feel him though. Tongue and teeth grazing along your inner thighs, making you shudder.

In the midst of his frenzy of desire, he seems to remember something. He rises to his knees and starts to properly remove the dress from your body.

“Almost forgot to unwrap my gift,” he says.

He’s discarded the dress to the floor in no time. You lie there, on display for him in the lingerie he’d chosen just for this. His hands stroke your sides as he takes in the view of your nipples pebbles beneath the embroidered rosebuds, the soaked patch of fabric between your thighs. He’s lost in the sight of you, feeling almost as hazy as you did.

“Sweet baby, the only present I ever need,” he mumbles before lowering himself to the bed again.

He yanks down the pretty panties and tosses them over to sit with your dress. Then you finally feel some of the relief you’d been craving. He dives into your cunt, lips moving as he envelops your sex in the heat of his mouth.

His tongue strokes up and down the velvet skin. He laps at your clit, paying attention to the precious bundle of nerves that had you crying out and writhing in his hold. You reach down and tug at his hair, causing a loud groan to emanate from the junction of your thighs. He devours you with increasing fervor.

“Pussy’s so fucking pretty,” he mutters into you, “So cute. My favorite toy.”

Your head falls back while your hips roll against his face. Gasps and whines erupt from your throat freely as you rotate between clawing at the sheets and pulling at his hair.

“All for you Daddy,” you choke out, trying not to devolve into a complete mess just yet.

He smirks up at you, enjoying the pathetic lilt in your voice. His thumb rubs your clit in quick strokes now while his mouth takes a quick break to speak.

“That’s right, baby. All for Daddy,” he repeats, words coming out slow like you’d struggle to understand if he spoke too fast, “All mine whenever I want it. Isn’t that right?”

“Mhm, whenever you want,” you babble back.

“My smart girl,” he teases before returning to licking your cunt.

The room is vibrating to you. You’re so high in the clouds you can’t register anything in your mind that isn’t him. You vaguely feel him working two fingers inside you again as his lips wrap around your clit and suck on it in a way that causes you to shriek.

He laughs and continues on, holding your body in place as it jerks and seizes under his touch.

“Good girl, babydoll. Cum all over Daddy’s face. You deserve it,” he encourages you.

You keep cumming. Your slick coats his chin and mouth, and he laps up every drop that he can. He pleasures you through the high. Once he’s worked you over the edge, and he can tell you’re coming down, he pulls off.

“My favorite sound in the whole world. Those pretty noises you make while you let go for me,” he murmurs as he crawls back on top of you. He nuzzles your neck, leaving some kisses on the skin in the wake of your powerful release.

“You know that normally, I’d keep going, but I think we both wanna get to the next thing. Want me to breed that sweet pussy till I’m firing blanks,” he says.

He finishes pulling his shirt off and removes the clothing from his lower body quickly. He’s back on top of you before you even register he was gone. Lazily stroking his cock, he slides it between your folds, gently fitting up against you.

“My little doll ready?” he whispers.

You hook your arms around his neck and nod. He can tell by your languid movements that you’re almost loopy off your release.

“Yeah you are. My perfect girl,” he whispers as he slides in, sheathing himself in the warmth of your pussy.

He grunts and tightens his hold on you as he sinks all the way in with no resistance. Your walls flutter around him, already beginning to charge up the hot coils in his belly.

“Swear you were made for me,” he mumbles into your neck, “Pussy made for me to fuck full. Precious little face made for me to kiss.”

“Mhm,” you hum absentmindedly. You hook your legs around his waist, locking his hips against yours as he starts to grind himself into your cunt. His pelvis rubs against your sensitive clit while the head of his cock prods all your favorite spots deep inside.

He grunts and groans against your throat. Both of your hot and sticky skin slides against the others. His breath fans across you in hot pants as he starts working his hips a little harder, rocking in and out.

“Everything about you is all for me. My perfect doll. My good girl. My gorgeous fucking wife,” he growls.

You nod eagerly as you pull him closer. His hips smack against yours repeatedly, his heavy balls clapping against you with each thrust. Your breaths are shaky. It feels like you're headed towards another release with no ability to hold it off or stop it. You whine for him and squeeze around his length. So fucking tight, he actually whimpers to stop himself from blowing his load.

After a while more, he knows it’s imminent for both of you. He keeps pistoning his hips, rutting deep inside you while kissing you and capturing those sweet little sounds in his mouth.

“You there, babydoll? Gonna cum again for me?” he asks quietly, watching for the nod he knew you’d respond with. Once he sees it, he works a little harder, bringing you to the peak. “Yeah? You ready for Daddy to cum too? I know you are.”

With his voice rasping in your ear, his cock drilling deep inside you, it only takes one more thrust of his hips for you to reach the brink. You spill over into your second release. Your hips buck, and your chest heaves as the second round of ecstasy zips through you.

He hums as you contract around his shaft, clenching and drawing him in further, as if you’re crying out for him to give you his cum already. His cock twitches inside of you as he gasps and erratically fucks it into you. His entire body weight is pressing you down into the mattress as he lets go and gives up on not crushing you beneath him. It only added to the pleasure though. It was the closest you’d ever felt, and not only because his cock was bumping your cervix every couple seconds.

Soon enough, he’s spilled all that he can into you. He remains on top of you though, keeping you right where you should be. His arms snake under your body and the shift causes you to whimper since he still hadn’t pulled out. He holds you to him like you really were his dolly, peppering kisses along the side of your face and dragging his nose against your head.

“So good for me, like always,” he mumbles.

You reciprocate the affection with a few lazy kisses of your own. Your arms rest around him with no actual grip, simply just a way to show you return the sentiments.

The two of you just lay there like that for a little while, taking in each other, enjoying the peace that comes with release. You break the silence soon enough with a whisper.

“Think this has been my best birthday yet.”

He smiles and smooches you a few more times. “You deserve it, baby.”

“Thank you for making it perfect for me,” you say and tighten your limbs around him.

“Mhm,” he hums like it’s nothing. He then pulls back a little and looks down at you. “I don’t know why you’re talking like it’s over though, sweetheart. There’s still a few hours left of your actual birthday, and even then, I’m not gonna let some numbers stop me from fucking my gorgeous wife.”

You return the smile and pull him into a few more pecks.

“And I wasn’t lying, we’re going until I’m absolutely certain you’re knocked up,” he murmurs as he rocks his hips against you again, drawing a soft whimper from your throat, “And you know how precise I am. Probably shouldn’t make any plans for tomorrow, actually, probably need the whole weekend too.” He looks at you with a cocky smile before continuing the roll of his hips.

#leon kennedy x reader #resident evil imagines #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy imagine #resident evil smut #smut #ch: leon kennedy 💌

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ihavethedreamies · 6 months ago

Text

Good Enough | Jisung [NSFW]

Park Jisung - NCT Dream

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~6.1k [more than half is smut btw]

Pairing: Jisung x AFAB!Older!Reader

Genre: Reader-Insert, Smut, Some Plot, Friends/Roommates-to-Lovers, Absolute Filth

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Summary: Jisung is tired of his noona treating him like her little sweet baby.

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Pet Names (Noona, Sweetheart), Swearing, Very Dirty Talk, Kissing, Lots of Tongue, One Spank, Oral (M! & F! Receiving), Deepthroating, Face-Fucking, Rimming (Just a tad), Size Difference, Size Kink, Soft-Dom! Jisung (oof), Sub! Reader, Breeding/Creampie Kink, Overstimulation, Squirting, Unprotected Sex (Use a condom! Reader is on the pill)

Author's Note: I had a mental breakdown while writing this lol. This might not acutally be the filthiest thing I have written, but it feels like it because of who it's for…for some reason. It's hard for me to believe that Jisung got so fucking hot, because I remember him sitting on Taeyong's lap, but he's a MAN now. i'll sit on his lap

P.S. FUCK

Revised (1/31/25) - I forgot to change the name to (Y/N), so I fixed it!

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! Share, even if its to the other sites! Let me know if you want to be on the taglist!

“He’s my precious.”

“Your roommate…is your precious?” Jisung hears voices creeping in from the living room. Groggily, he glances at the clock on his nightstand, head peeking out of his blanket cocoon. He’s still jet lagged after getting back from Korea, so it’s about 3 pm.

“Yes. And he’s not just my roommate-“

“He’s your precious?”

“Yes. But! I was going to say he’s my best friend… and my precious baby boy.

“Seriously? Isn’t he only like two or three years younger?”

“My precious baby Jisung.” He huffs at your coo, dropping his head back on his pillow in annoyance. For some reason his summer trip back home to see his parents triggered something in him. He missed you horribly and you were pretty much the only thing he talked about. Once he was informed by his mother that he’s likely fallen in love with you, he’s…upset. More with himself at first for not realizing it, but then looking at how you two interact, he got cranky. He is not your precious baby Jisung, he’s a man dammit, has been for nearly four years. Do you see him that way though? Not even remotely. He’s a step above a puppy, at least you accept he’s human. But you constantly go on about how cute he is, and sweet, and ‘a bean’; whatever that means. You’d even called him your son on a few occasions, and ever though they’re mostly in jest and unserious, now they really piss him off. Jisung doesn’t want you to see him as your son (maybe give you one) but what really is bugging him barely makes sense. He’s only heard you say it once, but it sticks in his mind…

“You realize half of the people on campus want to fuck him, right?”

He’s in his final year of college, and the only reason you’re still in college is because you stuck around to work for the IT department. Your friend’s question is not news to him, but he’s much too shy to go for any of the advances he’s received. He’s also much too in love with you, but he hadn’t known that till literally last month, but it makes sense.

“Not allowed.”

“Why?”

“Precious baby.”

“He’s not a baby, (Y/N). Not even close.” You don’t reply for a bit, and he can vividly picture your distasteful expression.

“He might not actually be one, but he’s my baby. My baby Jisung.”

“(Y/N).”

Your friend’s annoyed tone is not nearly strong enough to match the level he’s feeling. Definitely not able to continue his nap, he sits up aggressively from his bed, kicking at his blankets before wrangling his comforter and throwing it to the floor. Resting his elbow on his knee, he then rests his forehead on his hand, trying to breathe out his ire so he can leave his room without being visibly grumpy.

“My sister wants to ask him out.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“No one is good enough.”

“No one?”

“Nope, not even me.”

That’s it. You said it. That simple thought is what really sets him over the edge. You’re the only one good enough, no one else can even be close to you in his eyes. Finally, the anger boils over and he climbs off his bed, putting a sweatshirt on so quickly that he has to wrestle it in his haste. You keep the apartment so freaking cold… You must hear him wrench his door open because your conversation immediately stops. He storms down the hall, even his socked feet are heavy on the laminate wood floor, so much so that when he comes to the mouth of the hallway, you’re looking at him with a shocked expression. You’re sitting at the coffee table with your friend Yuna, various papers spread on the surface while your friend studies for her graduate classes. Your green snake Squishmallow sits on your lap, and he wants to grab it and throw it across the room, suddenly jealous with how close it’s pressed to your chest.

“Ji?” It’s clear you don’t think he heard your conversation, but Yuna immediately realizes, starting to gather her homework.

“I’m gonna go.” She nearly shoves the papers into her folder and throws everything else in her bag.

“What? Why?” You turn back to her, and he then realizes what you’re wearing. Your slightly damp hair has moved out of the way, revealing the design on the back of your baggy t-shirt. It’s his.

“Wait, Yuna?!” You try to get up and go after her as she dashes from your apartment, shooting Jisung a look as she shuts the door. You have to shove the table to get up quicker, and even as you stand, you still clutch the plushie to you. Jisung exhales harshly, storming forward and grabbing your Squishmallow and yeeting her onto the floor.

“Woah?! What’d she do to you?” You motion to her with your hand, giving him a questioning look. You start to bend to pick her up, but his hand grabs your wrist, pulling you back up and toward him, making your balance falter. Your bewildered eyes scan over his face, but you still have no anger in them; not even annoyance. You can’t get mad at your baby boy.

“Ji?” His big hand easily holds your wrist, and you squeak when he drags you even closer to him, so much that you can feel his breath flutter your hair over your forehead. His brow is furrowed, lips pressed tight to each other, but he can’t seem to meet your eyes.

“Hey, you okay?” Your other hand comes up to brush some of your hair away from your face, only leaving it down so it can dry. Your fingers then move to his face, trying to brush his bangs out of his eyes. Having you so close and seeing how far you have to reach makes him realize just how small you are. He’s well over half a foot taller than you and he wonders how small you’d look under him… When your fingers brush his cheek, his other hand grabs yours, easily swallowing it in his grip. Jisung holds your hand, pulling closer, and lays your linked hands over his heart. With his other, he yanks you the last little bit closer, so you’re pressed to him, wide eyes rapidly scanning his face. Your head’s tilted back, almost painfully so, still not recognizing what’s happening. The hand around your wrist moves so his thumb can rub your skin till it presses against your palm. Your gaze goes to your hand then, shocked at how small it is compared to his, and you seem to be registering how small you are compared to him in general. Had he really grown so much since you’d met him four years before? Your gaze goes back to his face, finally seeming to notice that his face has changed as well. Yes, he’s still cute, but he’s become devastatingly handsome, maturing into a…man. No, he isn’t a baby anymore, but you’re in denial. Even now, pressed against him, even able to feel his toned muscles through his sweatshirt, you keep trying to convince yourself he's still your baby Jisung.

“Jisung?” You exhale his name, so quiet that if he wasn’t so close, he wouldn’t have heard. Your eyes follow his when they flick down to watch your lips move when you whisper his name.

“What makes you think you’re not good enough for me?” His voice rumbles through you, its deepness shocking you for some reason. When did that happen? You’re so thrown off by the pitch of his voice, you barely register his question.

“Huh?”

“No one else is good enough for me…because they’re not you.” His hand drops your wrist so his arm can wrap around you, and he presses his cheek to the side of your head. He nuzzles your soft hair, the familiar scent of your shampoo soothing his anger some.

“What?” You stand still, stiff even, trying to process what’s happening.

“I don’t want to be your baby Jisung anymore, noona. I just want to be yours.” He’s a bit surprised with his sudden eloquence, but he just chocks it up to all his upset burning away any shyness he as in the moment. The anger’s faded, and he’s just upset, tired again, praying in his head that you’ll get the fucking hint. Your hand, the one he lets go, has rested on his chest for balance, then he feels your fingers clutch the fabric of his sweatshirt. With his fingers wrapped around your right hand still, he can feel that your pulse has quickened, and you’re minutely shaking.

“Y-you…?” You swallow hard, tongue running over your lips, mouth feeling dry.

“I thought I just had a crush on you. I don’t. I love you.” His softened voice floats right into your ear with how his head rests on yours. The back of your nose and throat burn as you swallow hard, tears sparking in the corners of your eyes. When you hiccup, snigging, he flinches, pulling back from you. It’s only just enough that he can see your face, his arm still around you, hand still in his over his heart.

“Noona.” He sighs softly, dipping and kissing the corner of your eye where a tear has slipped down your cheek. Nope, that makes it worse. You burst into tears, chest heaving, and he pulls you back into him. You’re…dramatic sometimes, cry easily…too easily, even. Jisung loves to tease you for crying at a commercial where a little girl brings a quilt out to her sheep in the barn close to Christmas. You also tend to cry around puppies.

“I-I…I-!” Your breath is heaving too much for you to really talk. His nose nuzzles your hair, and he kisses the crown of your head. You sniff, taking a few deep breaths.

“I love you too…” You whisper, if you were to speak any loud, your sobs would take back over. He doesn’t know, but while he was gone you had been in a much similar situation. You went to visit your parents as well, but it’s just an hour or so drive, not practically across the world. You missed him so much, and wouldn’t shut up about him, but your mother knows you well enough to read between the lines. Because it startled you, having romantic feelings for Jisung, you became even more dramatic with the ‘baby Jisung’ talk. He is your best friend, and so of course you love him, but you can’t admit you’re in love with him. You’re so worried about ruining your friendship that you just ignore your logical thoughts and pretend you haven’t fallen for him. Nearly fighting him when he pulls back from the hug again, you stay pressed to him, not wanting him to see your face. Not only is it red from your blush, but it’s also blotchy from your crying and your nose is close to running.

“Noona.” He huffs a laugh, trying to get you off of him. You grip his sweatshirt tighter.

“(Y/N).” Jisung is fully laughing at that point, partially from your actions and partially from how ecstatic he is that you love him back.

“No.”

“Noona.”

“No.” Finally, with a bit more force, he pulls back so you can see each other’s faces. The warmest smile you’ve ever seen is on his face and you freeze when he leans in closer. His forehead bumps your and his nose crinkles, cringing a bit at his own actions, but it makes you giggle; which makes it all worth it.

“Since when?” you ask. He laughs bashfully, lips pursing.

“I didn’t realize how bad it is till a few weeks ago when I was still in Korea. But…I knew before that. Something made me realize…”

“What?” You’re shocked when his giddy but shy face falls into one of panic.

“W-what?” His face blooms red, all the way to the tips of his ears and he tries to bow his head to avoid your gaze, but you can just look up into his eyes.

“Uh, well…” He clears his throat, trying to pull back further but he doesn’t let your hand go.

“Jisung?” You press with a fake stern tone.

“I…had a dream.” He fakes a cough to try and hide his voice crack.

“Yeah?” You’re clearly not understanding that he’s so reluctant to say what it was, because it was filthy. It even had made Jaemin blush. The extreme embarrassment in his eyes when they finally meet yours clues you in better. You step closer, a coy look spreading over your own face, and he takes a step back. His hand is still holding yours though, so he isn’t that desperate to get away. He clenches his other hand into a fist, bringing it up and pressing his mouth to his forearm to hide his face.

“Was it something bad?”

“No! Uh…” With each step you try to get closer, he backs up, till his back hits the wall.

“Was it naughty?” You tease, and he sneers at the cringey word. Your eyes, still a bit puffy from crying, are creased with amusement.

“Uh, I mean…”

“Did we do something dirty?” Your head tilts up to look at his face as he tries to hide, fingers clenching yours jerkily, the digits desperate to wiggle.

“M-maybe.”

“What?” You smirk, trying not to giggle. You’re always more open about sex stuff, not quite like Jaemin or even Donghyuck, but still more than him.

“No.” He’s throwing your method of deflection back at you.

“You know,” you get up on your tip toes so you can whisper into his ear, “if you tell me, we can do it~?” Your suggestion makes his whole body freeze, blood turning to ice. He nearly gasps when his blood then rapidly heats, the sound of his pulse whooshing in his ears.

“Are you sure?” he whispers, needing to make sure because even just the slightest detail would reveal too much if you aren’t. You nod with a hum, then gasp when he switches your places, hand cupping the back of your head, so it doesn’t thud into the wall as he pins you to it, his other forearm holding him up over you’re your head. You can only blink in response, looking at the conflicted expression on his face.

"I don’t want to hurt you.” What the hell had he dreamt? You’re dying to know…

“You won’t.” Jisung’s eyes meet yours, brow furrowed in worry.

“I could.”

“You could, but you won’t. Plus…” Your hands come up to mess with the strings of his hoodie.

"Sometimes a little pain can feel good." Jisung searches your face and sees the determination in your eyes. The hand on the back of your head buries harshly into your hair, tugging at your scalp as you gasp when his mouth seals against yours. Your teeth clack against his with the force of the kiss and you whine, trying to match his fervor. You can’t. His leg nestles between yours, pressing close and against your core, and you have to rise up onto your tip toes. The fingers in your hair twist the strands around them and he tugs harder, tipping your head back more, compensating for him looming over you. His knee hits the wall, his leg literally hitching you up an inch and you moan at the pressure. Jisung sneaks his tongue into your mouth then and your breath is rough out of your nose, saliva drooling from the corner of your mouth. Panting hard, he pulls back, eyes searching yours. His arm against the wall moves down to your side, still holding him up but also pressing into your waist. The hand in your hair leaves, the tips of his fingers soothing the slight sting he left on your scalp, then cups your jaw. Your face looks so small cupped in his palm and something carnal -feral- rises in him.

“You’re so little, noona.” Jisung’s tone is nothing like you’d even heard from him. His hooded gaze focuses on your mouth when his thumb easily reaches to press against your lips, his fingers still stroking the back of your head. You watch his brow quick up when you take his thumb between your lips, sucking on it. You expect a blush to erupt, for his voice to sputter, or for him to pull back. No. He smirks.

“Do you have any idea what I want to do to you?” Your head has to tilt up once again when he presses even closer, chest to chest, leg still wedged between yours. You wonder if you’d soaked through your panties and thin shorts, and if he could feel it. Then again, he’s in sweatpants, but you can feel the fabric clinging to your folds and he’s only kissed you. Yes, his thigh is pressing against your covered cunt, be he isn’t moving you on it.

“Tell me?” you whisper when he removes his thumb, eyes focusing on the shine of drool left on it. If you didn’t know him better, you would take his intense expression for anger, but even with knowing him so well, you can’t read his face. Jisung slips his hand off your jaw, fingers pressing to the back of your neck, thumb resting under your chin. His face comes close once more, so close his lips brush slightly over yours as he speaks.

“I want to fuck you so hard you can’t walk for the next three days. I want to fuck you so stupid you can’t even speak, just whine, and beg for more. I want to make you cum so much that your cute little pussy stings. I want you to swallow my cock and I want to cum down your throat.” You’re going to pass out, you’re sure of it. With how quickly the blood rushes to your core, your head swims. Where’s your sweet little Jisung gone? How long has he been thinking like that? He can’t even meet anyone’s eyes if sex stuff gets brought up around friends. But his words are thick with lust, and they swim into your ears and fog your brain like a drug. Your thighs twitch, body shuddering when a devilish grin spreads over his gorgeous face. He isn’t cute right now; he’s destructively sexy, and it takes your breath away. You don’t think you can ever see him as your sweet little friend again…

“What do you want, noona?” The pet-name even comes out different, he says it with near reverence, the single word a one-eighty from the four words preceding it.

“I want… I need you to do anything you want to me.” His grin falls, he groans, and his tongue is back in your mouth. He can taste the candy you’d been eating while you spoke those fateful words, eagerly circling your tongue with his. You keen a whining moan when the hand at your neck tightens slightly, his thumb pressing into your windpipe. Your breath hitches, somehow where he grips it gives the same heady feeling without actually restricting your breathing. What steals your air is the pleasure you’re feeling just from his kiss. Your hips jump, desperate for some friction, grinding your covered pussy against his thigh. Helpfully he presses into you more, lifting you against the wall more, the weight of gravity pulling you onto him harder. The arm at your side that’s been holding him up moves -he's just using his knee now for balance- and his fingers tease along the waistband of your shorts. You whimper when his hand continues, sneaking its way into the back of your shorts and panties, the hot pads of his fingers meeting your slick folds. You shiver and take heaving breaths when he removes himself from the kiss. His other hand’s still at your throat, but he releases the light pressure, making your heavy breaths easier to control.

“You’re soaked, noona. For me?”

“Fuck, yes, Jisung.” Expecting a kiss when he moves closer once more, he grips your jaw, tilting your head back, thumb hooking your bottom lip. You let him move your jaw, holding your mouth open, waiting for his next move. His grin breaks when he lets a glob of spit fall from his lip and into your awaiting mouth. Without needing a prompt, when his thumb leaves your mouth, you swallow.

“Good girl, noona.” Slowly, he pulls away from you and the wall, stepping back only enough that he can take his hoodie off. He goes ahead and lets his shirt underneath go along with it and your heart leaps.

“Fucking hell.” You gasp, reaching forward to eagerly run your fingers over him. While he isn’t necessarily to the level of Jeno or even Jaemin, for having a dancer’s body he still has muscle. When had that gotten there? He barely wears anything tight, let alone without sleeves, so you had no idea. He feels a wave of bashfulness rising, so he takes control once again, pulling your small hands from his skin.

“Off.” He prompts and you grab the hem of his shirt you’re wearing, and he finishes the job, tossing it down the hall. Clicking his tongue at your bra, you start to reach around your back to undo it, but he beats you to it. With an easy flick, it snaps open, and you let it drop, wide eyes staring at him. Where the fucking hell had he learned to do that?

“Jaemin.” He must’ve read your mind and that makes plenty of sense. Not able to even process your next move, he scoops you up easily, pressing you back into the wall. You squeak, wrapping your mostly bare legs around his waist, fingers digging into his shoulders. He’s more or less eye-level with you now. He drops you a bit, preferring you under him more, and his nose nuzzles under your ear. He feels the goose bumps rising on your skin against his, his top just as bare as yours. His hands once again bury under the waist band of your shorts, fingers so long that the tips slip out of the leg holes of your panties, cupping your ass perfectly.

“God, Jisung~!” Your body twitches when his light nuzzles immediately turn into open mouth kisses, then he sucks hard, working the skin with his lips and teeth. Popping off of your neck, his tongue runs over the flesh, blood rising and pooling at the surface. The fingers on his shoulder tighten, the blunt edges of your nails digging into his skin, and his own hips jump then. You’ve been trying to ignore the tent in his pants, but he grinds his hardened cock against your cunt, only a few layers of fabric between. Jisung seems to be big in every way…

“You still on the pill?”

“Yes, why?” You shudder once more as he licks at the third hickey he’s left, this one on your collarbone.

“I need to fuck you raw.” He groans as your cunt throbs, easily feeling it against his cock even with the clothing barrier.

“Want to pump you so full, my cums dripping out of you for hours.” Your eyes roll back as you whine, throwing your head back. You squeak when he jostles you up higher, those beautiful and surprisingly sinful lips sucking in a nipple. Sighing at the feeling, he isn’t pleased with the gentle noise, and so he nibbles your peak instead. You yipe like a dog -ironic since he’s planning on fucking you like one- a little dazed by how high up the wall he has you. Despite the altitude, he seems to be easily holding you up, though he’s able to use the wall for help. When his mouth moves to your other breast, he smirks at the red and swollen nipple he leaves. Your body feels like it’s on fire and you both still have your pants on.

“Can I fuck you raw, noona? Feel your pussy cling to my cock?” His mouth is at your ear again, having dropped you back down to an easier level. His dick hasn’t even entered you and you feel too stupid to talk.

“Please~” You mewl, and your submissive tone makes him groan. Jisung’s hands leave your shorts, shoving them down off of you as he partially lets you go. Your feet dangle slightly as you toe off the last of your clothes, then you yelp as he slings you over his shoulder like a sack of rice.

“J-Jisung-?!” You yelp as his hand smacks your ass, most likely leaving a big red print on your skin. The sting of the spank sends tendrils of fire right to your cunt as he storms down the hall toward your room, your bed is bigger than his. You flinch at the slam of your door as he closes it, huffing as he practically drops you.

“Knees.” He prompts -orders- and your body easily obeys. Going down the rest of the way to the floor, you sit with your knees in an ‘M’, gazing up at him with big glossy eyes. You’re trying hard not to gape at the bulge in his sweatpants, or to run your gaze hungrily over his bare torso.

“Go ahead, noona.” He nearly laughs at your eagerness, quickly reaching for the waistband of his pants and pull them off, his hard cock bobbing in the air before you. Your wide, enraptured state on his dick gives him a rush of nerves and pride all at once. While you come to terms with your fate, he shoves his sweatpants to the side, and you shuffle forward. Whimpering, your hand wraps around the base of his cock, big and pretty like him. Swallowing, your eyes meet his.

“C-Can I get something?” Your request throws him off, but he nods, and you scramble up and to your nightstand. Trotting back over, you stand demurely before him, holding the item out with both palms up. He takes the little bottle from you, looking at it.

“Throat numbing spray?” His brow crooks and he looks at you, biting your lip with a giddy glaze over your eyes. It still has plastic wrap on the nozzle. Nodding once, you sink back to your knees, and he groans low when you open your mouth wide, tongue out.

“Why do you have this, noona?” His tone is slightly patronizing as he tears the plastic off, then spritzes the watermelon flavored spray into your mouth. Swallowing a few times, the dull sensation you could even register before fades, leaving a very minute feeling in your throat.

“Guess.” You giggle, hand wrapping back around his cock. Jisung buries his hand in your hair again, tugging hard to make you look back up at him.

“You’ve used it before?”

“I’m not a virgin, Ji.” Your normal, casual tone doesn’t sit right with him in the moment, and he twists your hair again, the stinging twinge makes you moan softly.

“One for me now?”

“Yes~” You nod to further emphasize your point, and his grip loosens. With a much softer hold on your head, he presses you closer, letting you take over. Swallowing a buildup of saliva, your tongue swirls around the head of his dick, eagerly lapping at the salty taste of his precum. He’s barely half-way in your mouth when the head hits your numbed throat, your jaw protesting some already. His eyes shut as he groans, only fluttering open to watch you take his cock even deeper down your throat. The spray helps you not to gag, and you swallow over and over, holding your breath, your nose pressing to his groin. Your hand falls, landing next to your other one as you press your hands to the floor. Pulling back enough that you can breathe, you twist your head like a curious dog, eyes searing into his.

“Ready?” You moan and his hands are back in your hair, hips jumping, burying his cock back inside your throat. Despite the numbing, tears spring to your eyes, a slight gag leaving you. Holding still like a good girl, Jisung pumps his fat cock into your mouth and down your throat, breathing harshly through your nose when you can.

“Fuck, you feel so good, noona~” He sighs, head thrown back, making sure not to use full force as he rolls his hips. Even with him holding back, you can feel the strength of his movements and you feel a puddle of wet forming on the laminate floor under you, cunt clenching around nothing.

“You better swallow it all, (Y/N).” He tries not to whimper, but he can’t help it, letting you inhale deeply before burying his cock all the way down your gullet, pumping thick strands of hot cum down your throat. Your core spasms, eyes fluttering as you eagerly swallow over and over, the heat of his release warming through you. When you woke up this morning, you never dreamed you’d be eagerly swallowing Jisung’s cock as he cums buckets down your throat. As the last little wave dies, he quickly removes his still half-hard cock, brow furrowing with worry as you gasp for air. Tears are flowing down your cheeks, face red and messy, but you open up, tongue out, to show him you obediently swallowed every drop.

“You’re so fucking good, sweetheart.” You gasp softly, the pet-name going straight to your needy cunt. Jisung uses his index finger to gather the saliva and pre that dripped down your chin, letting you lick it off.

“Get on the bed, it’s my turn.” As soon as his fingers retracts, you stand quickly, albeit shakily and go to stand by the bed.

“W-which way?” His hands on your shoulders turn you to face the bed, back to him. With a shove, you fall onto the mattress, chest pressing to the surface, hips bumping the end of the bed. You then hear a light thumb, and his hands are back on your ass-

“Fuck!” You gasp as his thumbs spread your soaking folds, blowing a stream of air against your fluttering core.

“Did you cum when I did, sweetheart?”

“Y-yes.”

“Good girl~” You can hear his smirk, then you cry out as you bury your hands into the sheets, his tongue burrowing into your hot cunt. Jisung easily holds your hips still, his arm wrapping around the front of your legs, his free hand splayed over the small of your back. When his tongue leaves your pussy, it swirls over your clit, and he sucks it in once before running through the slit of your folds and wiggling back inside. He does this a few more times, eagerly drinking your slick.

"Fuckfuckfuck-" You shudder, not even able to warn him as you next orgasm hits, much stronger than the small one you had not even five minutes prior. He holds you down as your body shakes, gummy walls fluttering and throbbing around his tongue.

“You taste so good, noona.” You barely hear him lick his lips, pulse still whooshing in your ears.

“A-ah?!” You squeal when his hands part your ass cheeks, his tongue moving up from your soaking cunt and swirling over your pucker.

“J-Jisung!?” You gasp harder, not sure hot to feel about the sensation. Grateful you took a shower not even two hours ago, you still aren’t really expecting his tongue to go from your pussy to your ass.

“Don’t worry, noona, I just wanna taste today.” He laps over your pucker once more, then pulls back, huffing in amusement at your still twitching thighs. You’re already tired, he can tell, but he’s painfully hard again. Jisung’s thoughts run rampant as he tries to decide how he wants you as he fucks you first. Your pose will do just fine…

“Hm, so wet, sweetheart.” He stands so he can lean over you on the bed, one hand by your head to hold him up, the other hand leading his cock to run through your folds. You know it was big in your mouth, but feeling him at your entrance makes you shiver. As the head of his cock starts to breach your walls, the burning sting makes you sigh in delight, the heat of his skin scorching through you. Breathing hard, trying to relax, your cunt flutters still as he buries deeper, slowly. His deep, low groan fades into a chuckle as he watches your pussy suck in his cock. At the last inch, he snaps his hips, filling you fully, head pressing against your cervix.

“Ah, fuck~!” You white-knuckle the sheets, toes curling, forcing you to tip-toe, his pelvis presses against your hips. You breath raggedly, getting used to not just the burn his fat cock forces from your walls, but the stinging pleasure the same burn forces through you. You haven’t been fucked in way too long, and you’re already sure no one will ever feel as good as Jisung does right now. You’d needed him, not just any guy, but him. That’s why you haven’t tried looking for a date, your subconscious knowing you need your sweet friend to rail you stupid. Jisung breathes hard as well, trying to let you get at least a little used to the stretch, but your sticky, wet heat feels too good.

“I need to move, (Y/N).”

“Please~” You whine, squealing with delight as he pulls back no more than halfway, then slowly back in. It’s like he’s sucked the air out of you, then forced it back in, but his next thrust makes you see stars. As he leans over you, hips battering your ass with hard, shallow thrusts, his hands lie over yours, weaving his fingers through yours. The sweet move is overshadowed by his animal pace, your whimpers and squeaks just as feral. He’s still trying to hold back some, but when he can’t hold back a hard snap, he feels the same flutter as before and grinds his cock into you as you cum, spurts of slick coating his groin and balls as you squirt around him. Your shudders and pulses last nearly twice as long and when you finally lie still, he starts back up himself. Your cunt stings slightly, not ready for the friction once more, but the pain just fuels the pleasure. Without the bed underneath you, you’d have melted onto the floor, not strength left. Wanting to protests when he unweaves your fingers, he falls forward, his chest to your back. Not too tightly, he wraps his arm under you, across your collar bone, then down to your chest, pulling you up just enough that the arm around you restricts you, forcing your elbows to stay at your hips. Your nails dig into the fabric under your lower stomach, Jisung easily holding you up just a bit from the bed. His other arm also snakes around you, his hand splaying over your lower stomach. You’re sensitive there, more than most people, and just the pressure alone makes you mewl. Jisung presses harder, able to feel the bulge of his cock below your skin and as he settles into position, you realize why he’s holding you so tight: he’s holding you in place. His next thrust starts with only the head of his cock inside, then he barrels his dick back into you, fucking you with abandon. You gasp, not able to even squeak or moan, mouth open in a silent scream, drool dripping from the corners of your mouth.

“Ji-Jisung~! Please, fuck-!” You breathe out, your next orgasm washing over you, leaving the friction painful. The pain crests hard and fast as he continues to pound into you, fading back into pleasure. So much of your release and wet spill from your fluttering cunt that it drips onto the floor, down both of your thighs.

“I’m going to cum, noona. Full you up, yeah?” He whimpers deeply, almost groaning, hips faltering slightly.

“Yes, yes~! Jisung~!” He drops both of you to the bed then, pressing you down into the mattress, gouging his cock as deep as he can, and pumping your protected womb and cunt full of his hot cum. It spurts out in globs with your own cum, dripping a bigger puddle onto the floor, the hard pulse of his cock even stronger as he fills you. Your vision blurs, ears ringing as you cum once more, grateful that he stills, actually really hurting at that point. Reveling in his full weight on your back, he then registers he’s laying on you like that and pulls up just a bit.

“You okay?” He nuzzles the back of your ear.

“S-stings…” You get out hoarsely.

“Ah…” He winces with you as he pulls his still half-hard length from you, more globs of jizz and slick leaving your cunt.

“I don’t think I’ll walk for four days…” You mutter. It takes him a second to register what you mean before her bursts into laughter, pressing his sweaty forehead to your shaking shoulder.

“Good enough?” You ask and he hums.

“Fucking perfect.

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back2bluesidex · 1 year ago

Text

One of Your Girls - MYG (18+)

Pairing: Gangster!Yoongi X Chaebol!Reader

Theme: PWP, SMUT

Wordcount: 1.2k

Summary: Min Yoongi has been threatening your father. But that's not the problem. The problem is that you wanna get fucked by him.

Warnings: Explicit sex, doggy style, unprotected sex (wrap it up), creampie, spanking, domish-yoongi, overstimulation, one night stand, mentions of smoking and drinking. NSFW!!

Minors are not allowed in this blog!!

A/N: Another smut, because why not.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” No Eul nudges you with her elbow, reminding you how questionable are the things you are doing right now.

“Yes. The best idea I have ever come up with.” your pride spills through your voice as you reply without shifting your eyes from him.

“But girl! He is a gangster! Do you know what that means?” your friend is now starting to be annoying.

You shut your eyes, resisting yourself from lashing out on her.

“Do I look like a seven year old to you? Of course I know what a gangster is, Eul!” You emphasize your point as much as you can. But you know your ‘idea’ would sound absurd to anyone.

“Then why are you even doing this? What if he gets offended and he just… he just kills you?” No eul’s eyes are full of fear but you know it’s pointless. Rumors have it that Min Yoongi doesn’t kill women and children unless there is a very good reason.

And killing you just because you asked him to fuck you? Seems like a far fetched thought. But you are not going to explain that to your friend, not right now, standing in the middle of a dingy nightclub.

When you place your eyes on Yoongi again, his meeting has already ended and he is walking towards the bar island.

“Omg omg! He is finally free. I am gonna go. Eul, just take a cab home and make sure Mr. Go doesn’t see you.” you speak hastily, already trying to beeline to Yoongi.

“But Y/N..”

“Eul.. Go! Don’t just stand here. This is not the place for people like us. Just go home.. I will call you as soon as I am free.” waving Eul off, you start walking towards Yoongi.

He looks karismatic as he sips on his drink, eyes focusing on nothing in particular. His dark long hair reaches to his nape, his pale skin glistening under the dim light of the bar counter, veins pop out on his arms and you wonder how those hands would feel on your body.

Your heels click on the floor as you walk towards the man but you can’t hear the sound because of the loud music in the background.

What you can hear is the loud beating of your heart, which gradually increases as you reach close to him.

“Is that seat taken?” you voice, making sure you sound confident enough.

And then he looks at you with those dark eyes, you feel your soul leaving your body slowly. Yoongi doesn’t say anything. He only regards you for a few moments and you wait patiently for his answer.

“What are you doing here?” His voice is sharp but you don’t understand if he is upset with you for being at this place.

“You know me?” placing your question, you take a step towards him.

Yoongi scoffs at your dumb question.

“Do you think I went to threaten your father without doing any research on your familyline?” he cocks one of his eyebrows.

You don’t say anything, rather you sit down on the empty seat beside him. There is no point in waiting for his answer anymore.

But your mind briefly goes back to the day when he broke into your mansion, injuring all of the guards on duty and threatening your father by taking him aside. You were enamored by this mysterious, scary man and all you wanted was to be under his authority for once.

“Did your daddy send his little daughter to deal with me? So that a bigshot businessman like him doesn’t have to be seen with a thug like me, huh?” Man! Yoongi really hates your dad for whatever reason you are not aware of.

“No. I came here alone, all by myself” you reply, sucking in a deep breath.

“Alone?” Yoongi mocks you, as if he knows you are lying.

“I mean alone with Mr. Go, my driver.” you answer and Yoongi scoffs.

“And why did you do that? Why did you come here?” the fine hairs of your neck stand up at the low, husky voice of the man. Especially because he has scooted closer to your body without your knowledge.

“I came here to see you.”

“The reason?”

“I want you to fuck me.”

Yoongi’s eyes turn darker at your proposal. And your heart starts beating even faster.

“Do you know what you are asking for?”

“I do. We don’t have to be in love or something. Just make me one of your girls for the night.”

Yoongi’s tongue darts out of his mouth and wets his lips but he doesn’t say a thing.

Your cries get muffled on the pillow, your wrists sting due to the tight hold of Yoongi’s rough calloused hand. But you feel euphoric.

Yoongi’s fat cock hits your g-spot each time he thrusts into you. The lewd sound of wet squelching and skin slapping fill your ears.

“Your rich cock-hungry whore! You really got the nerves of asking me for a fuck huh? You brat!” Yoongi’s voice is breathless and you want to admire it but before you could, a sharp slap lands on your bare ass. You scream on the pillow.

“Fuck! So tight! Your pretty little rich boyfriends never really fucked you this good, huh?” he pulls his dick out of your entrance, leaves on the tip inside and then enters you again with full force. Your world starts swinging because of the sensession.

“N-no- Nobody ever fucked me this good, yoo-Yonngi.”

Nother slap lands on your ass.

“Did I give you the permission to call me by my name?” Yoongi pinches your clit with his free hand.

“No-fuck- I am so-ahhh” before you could apologize, he starts rubbing rough circles on your sensitive bundle of nerves.

“G-gonna cum.” you inform him while drooling messily on the pillow.

“Cum.” Yoongi commands. And you let yourself go.

Honestly you thought he was going to deny your orgasm and you were a little shocked when he permitted you.

But your confusions soon go away, when he flips you, lays you on your back all while still being inside you and starts thrusting into you again.

Your mind goes numb due to overstimulation. You barely can make out what’s happening.

Your senses finally start coming out of the clouds when you feel hotness flood in your hole.

Fuck! Yoongi just came inside you!

“Get your clothes and leave.” he says as he pulls out his dick.

Even though his harshness hurts you a bit, you know he is right. You should leave as soon as possible.

So you sit up, grab your panty from the floor, slip into it and walk towards Yoongi for one last time.

Yoongi has lit up a cigarette and the smoke makes it tough to make out his expression under the fluorescent lights of the motel. But you know he is staring at you.

Reaching on your tiptoes, you place a kiss on his cheek and maybe that catches him off guard.

“It was nice knowing you, Yoongi.” you say in his ears before taking your heels and walking out of the door.

Taglist:

@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @sukunabitch @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @chimmisbae @i-have-no-life-charlie

#bts smut #yoongi smut #suga smut #bts x reader #yoongi x reader #suga x reader #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi smut #bts x you #yoongi x you #bts x y/n #yoongi x y/n #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #yoongi fanfic #bts yoongi #bts

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just-some-random-blogger · 5 months ago

Text

Break Bones?

There has been nothing but tension between you and your ward, and Breakbones has only added to it.

bodyguard!Gwayne Hightower x Lannister!Reader x Harwin Strong | 4k+ | cw: fem!reader, reader has golden lannister hair, enemies to lovers, forced proximity ig, im just a girl!reader, angst?, jealousy, typos, etc.

A/N: this the '3rd part' to Seeing Red (1) and Seeing Green (2) but you dont have to read either to understand what's happening <3. Also, I think a lot of facts are skewed here in this fic but... Roll with it pls thx. I hope someone enjoys this because I do nawt 🥲

Tagging: @lancedoncrimsonwings @targs-on-zorses @barbieaemond @arabellasleopardcoat @dreamsandconstellations

@uniquecroissant @holdingforgeneralhugs @b00kw0rmsworld

Lunch was my favorite meal. This time of day was most pleasant, with the sun high in the sky and the birds singing. Normally at this time, whatever grogginess the morning gave me would long be gone. But today, it was not so.

Gwayne turns to me as I pointedly smack on my meal to annoy him. If my day is grim, then so should his.

He chews harder than he needs to then swallows, "I see frolicking with Breakbones has made you forget your pedigree."

I raise my brows, "nay," I set my spoon down, "my meal is simply so scrumptious that I cannot contain myself."

Gwayne releases a breath. I watch him as he reaches for his teacup. He looks as though he's using all the muscles in his body to withhold an eye roll. He takes a sip; the heat of the tea leaves his lips ruddy.

I watch him set his floral cup down. I watch him as he leans back on his chair. When did his get that long? The locks by his temples go past his cheeks now. A line forms on his face when I stare too long. I avert my gaze to my own teacup. The milkiness of his face is reflected in my drink. My stomach churns.

"So-" "How-"

We look at each other after speaking at the same time. I open my mouth, meaning to tell him to go first, but he cuts me off and simply speaks, "how is Breakbones?"

Offence latches on my being. How ill-mannered of him not to even feign the courtesy of allowing me to speak first. Irritation springs forth, so I quip, "what?"

Gwayne scoops some honey and stirs it into his tea. He licks what remained on the silverware.

I avoid his eyes as he does so.

"Your whereabouts have not gone unnoticed by me," he says dryly, "I am aware that you have since been accompanied by Breakbones to the market more than once."

A horrid scowl finds my features, "and just who is this foul creature?"

Gwayne's expression falls until my scowl is reflected on him. His jaw sets, "I can assure you; you have already wholly vexed me this morn; you needn't feign ignorance to add to it."

"But I am not acquainted to this brute who breaks bones," I hiss, "and I need not feign something which comes easy for me."

He realizes then that I was sincere in my own vexation when I heatedly continue.

"Your delusions of my character will not bleed into reality, Ser." I pointedly raise a brow, "whichever part of my body you think would associate with such people who garner such names would surely rather strike your cheek."

He furrows his brows as he tilts his head, "yet it seems you are ignorant to the fact Breakbones is your beloved City Watch commander."

My brows furrow. I am silent for a moment before speaking, "Ser Harwin?"

He scoffs out a chuckle, "oh, yes," he takes a sip of his tea, "the brute with such a name is the one you have extended such warm amity to as of late."

A moment of concern and even alarm floods me. But it is fleeting the next moment, and my expression falls. I huff. A pit grows in my stomach, "how acrid and crude."

Gwayne's brows quirk as he gulps his tea. The manner in which his lips curl pierce through my belly in the most unpleasant of ways.

"I am well aware that you and I have never met eye to eye, that you disagree with my interest in beautiful things-"

His expression slips.

"-but your want to deter me of my only companion here is repellent, even for one as you."

Companion? Gwayne's blood rises just as I from my seat across him, "such as I?"

"Such as you!" I maintain, chucking my table napkin onto my half-finished plate.

"I see your unfeigned ignorance has made you callous to my efforts to please you," he words harshly, slowly rising from his seat.

"But it is not your work to please me!" I snap, "your work is to keep me safe!"

"From library books?!" he raises his voice, "from cakes and dresses? What is your danger in King's Landing when not only do a thousand guards reside within these walls, but your own lord brother is seated upon the council of the king?"

My nostrils flare at his words. I decide to maintain my dignity by forfeiting my response. I gather my skirts and flee him.

He releases an irritated laugh, "oh, how very like of you!"

"Do not wait. I have errands to accomplish."

"Ha! Do accomplish them well with your beloved Breakbones."

I storm away from him. I storm and storm until my face rains. It annoys me how my breath shortens and how my throat constricts. I run off to my chambers and dismiss any ready servants there. I crumble to my bed and wring out my melancholy.

The letter I received late last night calls to me from my vanity. I sigh and reach out to it. I slide down my bed and will the contents of the letter to change.

It does not work. The words are as clear as they were last night underneath my lamp, if not clearer now in afternoon shine.

Highgarden would be honored to receive Lady Lannister. House Tyrell presently prepares its home in hopes it will be hers in the apparent future.

I rip the parchment to shreds, as if its riddance would destroy the reality it held.

It does not.

It comforts me, nonetheless.

I wash my face and reapply rogue before exiting my chambers. I begin to walk off but freeze when I see Gwayne at the end of the hallway. He does nothing. He says nothing.

I turn the other way.

I find myself heading to the guard's quarters, where I soon learned Ser Harwin was not. A guard informs me that he was in the training grounds, and so I promptly make my way there.

The moment Harwin catches the golden glint upon my head, he is distracted. He pays less attention to his pupils, offering me a smile and nod in regard. Soon, when I am close enough, he says a quick word before abandoning his post altogether.

Harwin struts up to me with another smile and nod, "my lady Lannister."

My heart swells at his kind regard, a stark contrast of Gwyane, "lord Strong."

"You must forgive my state," he wipes the sweat dripping from his temple, "an hour remains of our session, then I will be free to accompany you to the baker's today," he assures. He smiles but it quickly disappears as he adds, "after I wash and change, of course."

I press my lips tightly together, yet it does not contain my giggle.

Harwin crosses his arms at the sound, his own lips unable to contain his own giggle.

"I am in no hurry, commander," I clasp my hands together, "feel free to ignore me until you are ready."

He walks backward, "I pray you do not require me to do something impossible."

I chuckle at the sentiment, but I roll my eyes. I sit myself on a crate nearby and watch as the man instructs his pupils. He demonstrates the proper handling of a sword and strikes the dummy. For a moment, I think of Gwayne training.

Then suddenly, I remember our argument and find myself calling out, "break bones."

I watch as Harwin turns to me.

I flatten my skirts on my lap but do speak any further.

"You call, my lady?"

I straighten my back, slightly taken aback that he responded, and shake my head, "never mind."

Harwin does not think twice on it. He continues with his lesson.

Watching him teach was... titillating. His voice was rich and sure, his actions more so, and his demeanor was truly that of a commander. More and more, I thought of 'break bones' and continued to convince myself that this was not him. Soon, I was not enslaved to my thoughts and became thoroughly entertained by Harwin's instruction. It was almost a shame that the hour passed as quickly as it did.

Harwin quickly comes to me, announcing he will not take long to tidy up, then leaves just as quickly. Unable to help myself, I decide to ask a guard about this break bones fellow. Before I can even ask if that man was truly his commander, he's already droning about See Harwin Strong. Before he could finish, the said man was beside me, face and locks slightly damp.

Harwin and I make our way to the stables after and I immediately start, "I did not realize you had quite a reputation."

I watch my feet peak out from beneath my dress as we leisurely make our way to his steed. Harwin, with his hands behind him, turns to me with a quirked brow, "and what reputation might that be?"

"Breakbones," I look up.

He simply stares.

"I thought Gwayne thought it up to deter me from your companionship."

He purses his lip, "...does it?"

I give him an incredulous look, "perhaps if I had known it before I knew you. I was testing the name on you. I did not expect you to respond."

"Is it very ill-fitting?"

"Yes," I speak immediately. I tilt my head, "you are very gentle."

He laughs. It is quiet but hard enough that he must clutch his gut and take a moment to gather himself.

Though it was not like him to mock me, I could not help but feel perhaps that in this moment he was. A frown finds me.

I think of Gwayne and his condescending laughter. My chest tightens.

He breathes in deeply before finally calming. Harwin notices my dejected demeanor and it wipes the grin off his face, "forgive me. I laugh only because I have not yet been called gentle in earnest."

It does not rid my frown.

"It pleases me," he mutters.

I stop in my tracks when he reaches for my hand. My pulse quickens when he takes and lifts it.

"I am glad to appear as such to you," he speaks carefully, blue eyes locked on mine. He presses a chaste kiss at the back of my hand. He maintains his hold until we are in front of his horse.

Harwin helps me up the brown stallion. He maintains a respectable hold and even fixes my dress as I seat myself. I look down at him and his smile. I nod, indicating that he can now climb up.

He shakes his head, lips still curled upright, "I do not think it wise for me to ride with you today."

I furrow my brows, "why ever not?"

Harwin takes the reins of his horse, "well, I fear my hasty washing was not enough."

I roll my eyes, "I-"

"And I desire to uphold the gentle nature you recognize in me." Harwin begins to walk.

"I do not understand."

He snorts lightly, "I fear my softness will not remain if I ride behind you."

My brows only furrow deeper.

Harwin catches this and chuckles. He mumbles under his breath, "the lioness is but a kitten."

"I heard that."

He raises a hand, "a jest. An innocent jest."

I spent a good part of the afternoon scrutinizing cakes and frosting, meticulously ordering the perfect assortment to be delivered to me tomorrow.

By the time Harwin and I were back in the Keep, I could tell that he was worn, not only from being made a taste tester against his will, but also from walking back and forth.

Another image of Gwayne flashes in my mind. Guilt and dread threaten to spill from my lips.

Harwin helps me down his steed and softly smiles once I am stood before him. My heart stings at his drowsy expression. My forehead curls as I reach for his cheek, "you have been most patient and kind."

His face perks at my touch.

"I am most grateful," I brush his curls away from his face, "I would not have been able to accomplish what I have today without you."

Harwin straightens when I pull away, seemingly reinvigorated.

"Forgive me if my meticulousness cost us a longer trip than expected."

He chuckles and shakes his head, "you award me more credit than I am due. It is an honor to witness the care you put into your gifts."

I watch him as he leads the horse into the stable. Harwin continues once he's walking back towards me, "I am sure Gwayne's nameday will be heartfelt, knowing his lady took great measures to prepare her gifts for him."

The thought makes me want to pull my hair out. I sigh and simply walk off.

Harwin's expression falls. He follows after me, "is something wrong?"

I watch my shoes peak from beneath my skirt with my steps. I turn to him when he calls me by my name. Harwin has a look of concern upon him. I comb the tips of my golden hair in agitation, "I... do not wish his nameday to come."

A line forms between his brows.

I sigh, "surely you are aware that my move to King's Landing was to secure myself a husband."

Harwin did, in fact, not know this, but does not have the chance to say so.

"My brother says the only house interested in me is that of the Tyrells."

His brows quirk. A doubtful thought.

"I did not..." I turn to the ground, "think my demeanor so odious that I am able to attract but one marriage proposal. Surely my family name weighs more than that."

The thought makes Harwin's forehead curl.

"I am not due to leave for Highgarden until the next moon, but I figured if it pleases Gwayne, I would set him free on his nameday. Another gift for him."

Harwin frowns, "do you not think your decision rash?"

"Rational, perhaps."

He does not seem to like my resolve on the matter, and yet he does not press any further. The rest of our walk is silent, and soon we are in the hall to my chambers.

Both Harwin and I slow at the sight of Gwyane standing attention at my door. He shifts in his spot, turning to us. When we reach him, I notice the way his jaw feathers.

The auburn haired man lifts his nose slightly, "Breakbones."

Harwin nods, "ser Hightower."

"How kind of you to return the lioness to her den," he turns to me, pale blue eyes ripping into my flesh, "I do hope she did not bare her teeth and claws too much."

Harwin raises a brow, "her company is most welcome, teeth and claw included."

I turn to Harwin. He smiles at me. Gwayne watches. His blood curdles.

"She tells me tomorrow is your nameday," Harwin looks to Gwayne, "what plans have you made to celebrate?"

"Whatever my lady has planned for me," he chuckles dryly. His begins to turn red in the face.

My brows furrow, "worry not, Gwayne. There shall be no errands to attend to on the morrow."

"How magnanimous," he smiles, or rather sneers, "your commander seems to need the day off. See how worn you've made him."

"Enough," I quip.

"Agreed," he blurts, "you should retire," he motions with his head, "I will treat the man to some wine," he turns to Harwin, "and perhaps he will the same, as a nameday treat."

Harwin nods, "perhaps on your nameday itself. I have an evening patrol I must cover."

Gwayne's nostrils flare, "unfortunate."

With that, I thank Harwin for accompanying me and head inside my chambers.

Gwayne places a hand on Harwin's shoulder, leading him down the hall, "I must express my appreciation for lightening my load as of late."

"My duty is to serve, but it is a pleasure to do so for the lady Lannister."

Gwayne pulls his hand away then brings both behind him, "I'm sure for one who is daily surrounded by sweaty men, it truly is."

Harwin does not respond. They continue walking down the hall.

"I am glad to know she did not forget my nameday and neither of us will need to be worked by her tomorrow."

Harwin gives a lopsided smile, "if it comes down to it, ser, I will do any work she may require of you in your stead."

Gwayne's face twitches but he expertly covers it up with a low chuckle, "oh, how good. Do not deny me then if it happens."

The two men part ways at the end of the hallway. Gwayne heads for his chambers, feeling irritated and suffocated. He bathes but it does not soothe him as much as he hoped. The next morning, he wakes up groggy and attempts to bathe it away, but the water was as ineffective as the night before.

He gets dressed and makes his way to the solar. He stops in his tracks when he hears the ruckus from inside. It doesn't take him long to recognize the voices, which is why he decides to enter and interrupt the argument taking place inside.

I gasp softly at the sound of the door opening. The sight of Gwayne's concerned expression only makes the tears from my eyes spill further.

Tyland turns to him. He does not mask his ire, which is why he does not greet him. My brother simply quips, "you will not leave her today."

Gwayne turns from my brother to me. It takes a moment before he realizes it was an order, "of course, my Lord."

The master of coin sighs and heads for the door. Before leaving, he raises a hand, "a servant will come to deliver your nameday gift tonight or tomorrow. Lannisport has been overflowing as of late, but I was assured your delivery will be swift."

Gwayne nods, "you have my thanks."

Tyland leaves after this, and Gwayne walks over to me.

I pull away before he can touch me. I lean towards the table and push the assortment of cakes towards him, "you will not need to steal my sweeties today, ser."

I walk towards the window, turning my back on him, uncomfortable with the idea of the man seeing me in disarray. He is insensitive to this and follows after me. I move away, but he does not relent.

"You need not tend to me!" I snap, strands of gold sticking to wet cheeks. I brush my hair away and helplessly point to the table, "there is a box on your chair. Tend to it! I have no use of you."

Gwayne pulls his head back. The sentiment stung, but he decides not to take offence. He cannot, not with the red eyes staring back at him. He decides to walk off and head for his usual chair.

Sure enough, a smallish wooden box tied in a red velvet bow rests on the cushion. He sets it down on the table before seating himself. He turns to me then back at the box. He undoes the bow and opens it. He stares at it. His silence reads to me as disinterest.

"Gloves. Practical but stylish," I walk towards him. He turns to me as I pull the chair beside him. I sit down, taking one glove and the hand it belonged to.

Gwyane spares a moment to watch the red leather be slipped on him hand, the rest of his moments are spent observing the tear laced lashes before him.

After buttoning the glove in his wrist, he stretches his fingers, opening his closing his hand to test the fit. His eyes do not leave me as he does so, "it fits me perfectly."

"As it should," I say, reaching for the other, "I paid the artisan well for this."

He grabs my hand just before I can do that with his. I stare at the veins that run past his sleeves, "I am exhilarated by the knowledge the shape of my hands are known by you."

My lips part.

Had it been any other day, had the circumstances been different, I would have received that statement with offence, for it was one of clear mockery. Yet, with how his dimples vaguely made an appearance and how his lips pressed softly into a smile, it seemed... genuine.

And it seemed to make my heart skip.

I mutter, "I stole a pair of your gloves and had it fitted."

Gwayne chuckles.

My heart skips again.

"Clever girl," he releases my hand and removes the glove I put on him. He takes the ribbon on the table then turns to my hair, "red goes well with gold, wouldn't you agree?"

"... my hair is already made."

"You would be glad to know that I am skilled in unmaking it," he pulls my chair closer to him.

My body burns as he reaches for my curls. My hair was braided by the sides in a fashion I quite enjoyed; I did not enjoy the idea of him unmaking it.

"-just as I am skilled in braiding," Gwayne adds.

I knit my brows at the idea.

"Do not look so shocked," he chuckles, "my sister has as much hair as you, and I did not enjoy how it flew to my face when we were children."

Before I can speak, he grabs my shoulders and turns me away. He gathers my hair and my skin pricks at the feel of his fingers against my nape.

He is silent when he begins. I close my eyes and focus on the feeling of his light touch.

"I would braid Alicent's hair when she wept as well."

My eyes open. Oh.

"Thankfully, it was not a frequent occurrence."

I turn to my skirt.

"I do not tell you this to press you for answers," he softly clarifies, "merely to express how I think it comforted my sister... and how I wish to do the same for you."

I do not reply. My lips wobble.

"I was instructed not to leave your side today and I do not wish to add to whatever offense that could bring a lioness to tears."

I silently wipe my face.

Gwayne says nothing more after this, not until he finished braiding my hair.

He rests the braid on my shoulder. I inspect it, seeing he incorporated the ribbon into the pleats and even managed to make a small bow at the bottom. I look up at him. He frowns and reaches for my cheek, wiping my tears.

I take a deep breath to calm myself, "my brother received an offer for my hand."

Gwayne stills.

"Well," I turn to the box on the table, "he received multiple."

He leans on his elbow. He smiles, though against himself, "we came to King's Landing to find you a match, did we not?"

"It seems my brother has other plans," I mutter, "apparently Tyland means to use me as leverage for the crown. He wishes to wed me to the Tyrells so that he can have a firmer hold on Highgarden. Jason does not know this. He was led to believe I was simply going to King's Landing to purchase new dresses."

A line forms between his brows, "I presume Jason found out about Tyland's plot."

"Yes. Jason writes that I should put my dresses to good use and entertain any suitors that come to me whilst I am in King's Landing."

He nods curtly. He sighs and shrugs, "why the tears then? Does the idea of entertaining men upset you so?"

"..."

"... Tyland reminded me of what happened last time when I had many suitors at my beck and call."

Gwayne clenches his teeth. He rests his hand in front of me, "I swear on my life that no one will come close enough to take advantage of you again."

His hand itches to reach out, but he instead goes for the cakes, dragging it in front of him. He shoves a chocolate cake into his mouth and chews.

I watch him lick his lips. He notices how I lick mine. He speaks through a mouth half-full, "do not think I will share simply because you are sad."

I snort and roll my eyes. Gwayne is relieved this was the reaction he garnered.

"I had enough cake from tasting them with Harwin yesterday."

He stops chewing.

I notice the frosting on the corner of his lips and wipe it with my thumb, "enjoy your cakes."

Gwayne is perfectly still.

"Happy nameday."

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bemusedlybespectacled · 7 months ago

Note

I don't understand the chevron law thing, could you explain it like I'm five? Should we be working towards fixing whatever the courts just fucked up?

So, okay, I am condensing like a semester of a class I took in 2017 into a very short explanation, but:

It would be really annoying for Congress to individually pass laws approving every new medicine or listing out every single poison you can't have in tap water, so instead there are agencies created by Congress, via a law, to handle a specific thing. The agencies are created by Congress but overseen by the executive branch (so, the president), which is why we say things like "Reagan's EPA" or "Biden's DOJ" - even though Congress creates them, the president determines how they do the thing Congress wants them to do, by passing regulations like "you can't dump cyanide in the local swimming pool" and "no, you can't dump strychnine, either."

However, sometimes people will oppose these regulations by saying that the agency is going beyond the task they were given by Congress. "The Clean Air Act only bans 'pollutants,' and nowhere in the law does it say that 'pollutants' includes arsenic! You're going beyond your mandate!" To which the experts at the EPA would be like, "We, the experts at the EPA, have decided arsenic is a pollutant." On the flip side, the EPA could be like, "We, the experts at the EPA, have decided that arsenic isn't a pollutant," and people would oppose that regulation by being like, "But the Clean Air Act bans 'pollutants,' and it's insane to say that arsenic isn't a pollutant!" So whose interpretation is correct, the government's or the challengers'?

Chevron deference basically put heavy weight onto how the agency (i.e. the government) interpreted the law, with the assumption that the agency was in the right and needing pretty strong evidence that they were interpreting it wrong (like, blatantly doing the opposite of a clear part of the law or something). If there was any ambiguity in how the law was written, you'd defer to the agency's interpretation, even if that interpretation was different depending on who was president at the time.

(Note: there are other ways of challenging regulations other than this one, like saying that they were promulgated in a way that is "arbitrary and capricious" – basically, not backed by any evidence/reasoning other than "we want it." Lots of Trump-era regulations got smacked with this one, though I think they'd be better at it if Trump gets a second term, since they've now had practice.)

Chevron deference wasn't all good – remember that the sword cuts both ways, including when dickholes are in power – but it was a very standard part of the law. Like, any opposition to a regulation would have some citation to be like "Chevron doesn't apply here" and every defense would be like "Chevron absolutely applies here" and most of the time, the agency would win. Like, it was a fundamental aspect of law since the 80s.

The Supreme Court decision basically tosses that out, and says, "In a situation where the law is ambiguous, the court decides what it means." That's not completely insane – interpreting law is a thing judges normally do – but in a situation where the interpretation may hinge on something very complicated outside of the judge's wheelhouse, you now cannot be like, "Your Honor, I promise you that the experts at NOAA know a lot about the weather and made this decision for a good reason."

The main reason it's a problem is that it allows judges to override agencies' judgements about what you should do about a thing and what things you should be working on in the first place. However, I don't think there's really a way of enshrining that into law, outside of maybe adding something to the Administrative Procedure Act, and that would require a Congress that isn't majority Republican.

I will say that kind of I expected this to happen, just because IIRC Gorsuch in particular hates Chevron deference. IMO it's a classic case of "rules for me but not for thee" – Scalia and other conservatives used to rely on Chevron because they wanted their presidents to hold a ton of unchecked power (except for the EPA), but now that we've had Obama and Biden, now conservatives don't like Chevron because it gives the presidents they don't like unchecked power.

#askbox #personal #Anonymous #bb is a lawyer #bb had a whole flow chart for admin law finals that is now moot #chevron deference

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shiny-jr · 9 months ago

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not my world [ prologue ]

– Summary: One day you wake in a foreign world with nothing to your name except the clothes on your back. A talking cat named Grim, gives you your only lead to return home. Seek out the seven gods and pray they answer your plea.

– Warning: Yes, this series is a yandere thing, although this post really isn't. Gender-neutral reader.

– Characters: Grim.

– Note: Think of this like a test, just to see how it's received. Yes, this is based off that outlander post I made a while ago. I was thinking I could make this a long-lasting series. However, it really depends how y'all like it. There's not too much going on here, because I'm trying to set the scene and I wrote it all fairly quickly. However, it's just a small taste. So, let me know what y'all think.

– Pages: 11

“So… you’re saying that you woke up here on this beach with no explanation, but you’re from another world so you have no idea where you are? You fell asleep in your own bed, in your own home, and now you’re here, with no way to go back?”

As far fetched as it sounded, you could only grimly nod. A dream, this should’ve just been a nightmare. But that was confirmed to be false when you pinched yourself multiple times and tried to splash yourself with the nearby ocean water. Everything felt so real, from the sand between your toes to the breeze in the air and the sunlight drying the water off the surface of your flesh. You wanted it to be nothing but a dream, especially when you found a talking cat with a forked tail and blue fire in his ears.

This was your third attempt trying to explain things to this impish but rather harmless little furball, and each time he seemed more puzzled than the last. His little black nose twitched as he sat in front of you, his paws digging into the sand as those strange eyes of his studied you closely. His voice was grating, high-pitched, speaking with a tone of doubt. “You don’t look like you’re from any of the seven nations. No pointed ears, no beast features, not even a magestone to your name! Well, it makes sense. A nobody like you obviously wouldn’t have a magestone anyways.”

That was probably meant to be an insult, but considering you didn’t even know what a magestone was, you didn’t really take any offense at all. Pointed ears, beast features, magestones, annoying talking cats– you really didn’t care about any of that. “Because I’m not from whatever seven nations there are. I already told you where I’m from.”

“Yeah, well I never heard of wherever it was you said. So get lost, would you, human? I’ve claimed this beach alrea–”

A low growl rang in the air. Swiftly you scanned your surroundings, fearful that you were about to be attacked by some mythical beast. However, when you looked back to the feline who now looked quite ashamed, you realized the noise came from his stomach. Actually, the little fellow seemed pretty scrawny, and you could just barely make out the shape of his ribs poking out of his sides.

Standing up, you brushed off the sand clinging to the oversized t-shirt you fell asleep in. Thankfully, you at least had sandals, which was better than waking up here barefoot. With one look around, there didn’t appear to be anyone for miles, and no sign of civilization here. Leaving the cat as your only option to turn to, as jarring as it was to be speaking to a cat. “Er… Look, if you could at least help me find people, a shelter, a city, something– then I’ll see about getting you something to eat. Deal?”

“I don’t need your help! But… I’m curious, so I’ll follow anyway.”

“Great…” You sigh, as you decide to follow a path that leads away from the shoreline and into woodlands. At the very least, you were not completely alone. This would be much more terrifying if you had woken up and there was absolutely no one around. “So, do you have a name or are you, like, feral?”

“I’m not feral!” It hissed as it walked in tandem beside you, keeping up with your steady pace. “Since I am so great, I will allow you to know my name. I am the all-mighty Grim! One-of-a-kind and destined to one day become strong, powerful enough to defeat even the seven gods!”

“Seven gods…?” Was this some sort of fantasy setting? It had to be. First he mentioned pointed ears and beast-people, and you were having a conversation with a talking cat! Maybe seven gods were the least outlandish thing you’ve heard today. “Well, I’m (Y/n).”

“You’ve never heard of The Seven? How stupid could you be?”

You frowned at his toothy little grin as he ridiculed you for your knowledge on a place you just ended up in. “Well excuse me for not knowing anything about this place I just ended up in!” Tearing your gaze away, you saw a cabin up ahead. It appeared abandoned, so there wasn’t any hope of seeing another person yet. Still, there may be something useful inside, so you approach.

Trying the knob, you found the lock jammed. The wood of the front door was rotting, some of it in splitters and the windows were shattered. With a few strong kicks, the door became dislodged and finally gave way beneath the pressure.

“You’re excused– hey! Tuna!” You didn’t even bother stopping the feline when he rushed into the abandoned cabin, sprinting after the few cans of tuna he spotted on an old table. At least he would get to eat.

You didn’t particularly care for canned fish that’s been sitting there for who knows how long. In practically a blink of the eye he had devoured three whole cans of the stuff and licked the remnants off of his whiskers.

“Okay, okay, since I feel so bad for you, and because you found these tuna cans, I’ll be your guide. That way, I don’t owe you nothin’ after this! Maybe one day, if you’re still around, you’ll see me ascend to the ranks among the archons and you can brag like I knew him! Isn’t Grim so cool and praise worthy? I might even remember you and accept your prayers! You can thank me now.”

At his smug expression, you squinted incredulously as he began walking down the path in the middle of the woods once more. Following hesitantly, thankful there was daylight and this seemed like a particularly nice forest, save for the very depths of it further away from the road that were dark due to the cover of leaves and branches above. However, the trees closest to you weren’t so dense, and the sunlight filtered through the thin foliage. The dirt road was wide, but slightly covered with scattered blades of grass and underbrush, as if no one had used it in a long while. Squirrel-like critters darted about in trees, strange fruits hung on low-branches, and foreign flowers sprouted alongside little ponds.

“I’ll thank you after an explanation and a little help. So, what’s this about gods?”

“Let’s see… I’ll put it so simple that even a baby can understand! There are seven nations, and each one has a god. These gods are super-powerful! I’m talking crazy-strong, like they can level mountains and raise the sea type of miracles!”

As he strolled beside you, his forked-tail swished back and forth. For now it seemed like he knew where he was going, so hopefully that was a good sign. Right now, you had no idea what to do or how to get home. However, if magic existed in this realm, then surely there would be some way to get back. There had to be, for your own peace of mind.

“Maybe if you pray to one, you’ll get an answer. But the chances of that are pretty much zero, because only idiots rely on the gods since they almost never answer. You’d have a better chance trying to actually meet one of them and try to talk to them in person, but good luck with that!”

As the road neared a cliff, you caught a glimpse of the scenery. It was a kingdom, a whole city that began right at the edge of a vast meadow. The rolling valley ended at a river, across a wide stone bridge where the city began. Miles and miles of cobblestone roads lined with two to three-story buildings, and rising above it all was a white palace with red conical roofs that pierced the very sky. It looked fantastical, like something straight out of a peculiar little story book, especially considering how unnaturally bright the flowers were and how there was the occasional mushroom as tall as a tree.

Never before in your entire life had you ever seen a single place like this. Some stupid naive little part of yourself had hoped that perhaps you were still in your world, but this was simply proof that tore that little shred of hope to bits. “What is this place…?”

He paused to scratch a spot behind his ear. “That’s the capital city of Heartslabyul. You see that big palace all the way over there? That’s where the god of fire lives. One day, I’m gonna live in a place even bigger, grander, than that! My worshippers will build, brick by brick, a towering temple that reaches the very heavens! It’ll make that palace look puny in comparison!”

Dumbfounded, you nearly get left behind in your stupor once the feline begins to walk down a rocky slope again. You follow, as Grim yammered on and on, “Fire is harsh, just like that place. Trust me, I tried staking a claim there, but I was kicked out! Can you believe it? Me! They just threw me out as if I were nothing! Anyways, I already forgot what you were looking for, but whatever it is, you’ll probably find something there––”

“A way home?” You reminded him, a tiny bit irked that he seemed to forget so easily. For such a haughty little beast with nothing to his name, he was very conceited.

“Ooh yeah, right. That. Gods have all this magic and wisdom from their years and stuff, so they gotta know something. But if I were a god, I wouldn’t answer you, to be honest.”

Grumpily you point out the obvious. This cat-like creature was far from the divine that you were currently picturing. “You’re not a god.”

Yowling in response, Grim shot back with irritation, “Yet! Not a god yet!” When he spat, a small puff of smoke and a spark of flames he tried to aim at the dirt caused his blue ear flames to flicker stronger until one stray flame popped like a hot scorching coal. It went flying directly at your face, and all you could do was react quickly enough to try and step back while your arms and hands covered your face.

However, no pain ever came. “How are you doing that?!”

“Doing what? And you need to watch it with––” When you began to lower your arms, you saw it. When you had shielded yourself, your knuckles had been against your cheek and so your palm was facing outward. Floating in your open palm, was that small spark that came from his ears and nearly burned you. Immediately your eyes widened, and the surprise didn’t end there. As if fluctuating with your shock, the fire became a small yet harsh monetary crackling burst that caused both you and the feline to yelp and stumble back in disbelief until your palms were normal once again.

“You big fat liar! You do know magic! Where’s your magestone?”

Seeing his gray fur stand on edge, you quickly answered, seemingly just as confused as he currently was. “I-I don’t, I swear! I don’t even have a wizardstone! That has never happened to me before! This, magic, stuff like that, talking cats, huge mushrooms, none of this is supposed to be real!”

“Magestone! Not wizardstone! M-A-G-E!”

“Same difference, what do I care?” You had to double-check your hands, wanting to trick yourself again into believing it was something that could be easily explained. Yet this didn't seem like that. This was something else entirely that didn’t make sense, it couldn't be explained. Not while you were still reeling and staring at your own two hands in utter disbelief. “What the hell was that…?”

Sniffing the air around you, Grim paced slowly around you as his whiskers twitched with each sniff. After several rounds circling you, he plopped down in front of you and peered up at you quizzically. “I really don’t smell a magestone on you… but you used my fire! It was blue! Everyone knows you can’t use magic without one! Wait a moment… this is perfect!” Immediately brightening up, the little creature gave a toothy grin as he declared, “From now on, you will be my servant! One day when I am a god, I will make you a demi-god! Everyone knows the great gods have divine or mystic servants of some kind! So you will be my henchman! Count yourself blessed, human.”

“What…?” For now you didn’t even want to touch anything, especially yourself. What if you just tapped something and it was set ablaze? Although you felt fine physically, you were not completely okay. Mentally your mind was scrambled with trying to comprehend everything going on and being said, and now you had the additional burden of accidentally burning everything you touched.

“Maybe it has to do with the fact that you aren’t from here, so this world’s rules don’t even apply to you… yeah, that’s it! This is great! Does this mean you can wield other elements? We should try! If it storms tonight, we’ll stand at the highest cliff and wait for lightning to strike!”

“Definitely not!” You screech in reply, currently trying to prevent yourself from panicking and having a destructive mental breakdown all at the same time. Keeping your arms away from your body and fingers spread apart, you tentatively try grabbing stones and sticks and blades of grass to test the ability and see if anything would be set ablaze. And yet, nothing happened, so you slowly began to relax, as much as was possible in that moment.

Grim watched with great intrigue, hoping, wishing, to see you burn something straight with your hands. However, when he saw not a single spark or sign of smoke, he sighed, “Don’t you realize the possibilities! A small chosen few can wield magic like that, and even then, it’s only one element! This means that you might be able to do more! We’ll be legendary, beating every foe we come across!”

“Woah, woah, woah, who said anything about beating foes?” Cutting off that idea right now before it would get out of hand. It had only been a few minutes, not even an hour, and even you could see that Grim was a handful. “I am no fighter. If I magically somehow have these weird abilities now, doesn’t mean I want to fight with them. Are you insane? The most I’ll do is like… instantly heat up my food or make a light in the dark. That’s it. Actually, that first one sounds pretty useful…”

Angrily throwing his paws up in exasperation while falling back on some patches of grass, he groaned, “Ugh, but that’s so boringggg! Where’s your creativity? You could become a god among gods!”

Choosing to ignore his less than enthusiastic response, you proceeded, drawing his attention back to something he recently mentioned. Awkwardly you grip your hands, twisting your wrist between your fingers, yet nothing hurts. Everything felt normal, as if you hadn’t just wielding fire a minute ago. “You said a god of fire resided over there in that city, right?”

“Yeah, you’ll fit right in with all those hot-headed fire-breathers now that you have a bit of magic.”

As the two of you neared the bottom of the cliff and approached a smaller section of the forest that would lead directly to the road that branched off into either a vast meadow or the gates of the kingdom, the world seemed to stop when a loud rumbling rang through the air. The birds ceased their singing songs and the squirrelish creatures paused their chittering chattering. The ground shook and in the far distance, miles and miles behind the palace where there looked to be nothing but untamed wilderness, balls of fire spewed forth from what you had thought were mountains but were actually volcanoes. Seeing the smoke pour out from the peak, you debated running right back to the beach which was in the opposite direction of the rupture in the earth.

While initially startled, Grim quickly relaxed and began his walking again just as the sounds of nature resumed their tune. As if by some miraculous work of magic, the volcano stopped its rumbling just as quickly as it began, and the smoke receded as well. Like a pot popping on a stovetop and simmering over with water, but its vapor and contents contained by a top, that’s how rapidly it started and ended. Grim proceeded to walk in front of you to lead the way. Sensing your question before you even voiced it, he called out over his shoulder,

“Don’t look so panicked, we’re not gonna die. That happens like once a week. It used to be more sparse but… well, like I said, all the humans in the kingdom are a buncha hotheads. Especially their king! Everyone knows the god of pyro has the worst temper of all the seven, that’s why the volcanoes go off when he’s all angry! All you gotta do is gather up the courage to ask him what you want to know, and pray that he doesn’t incinerate you where you stand.”

#shiny speaks #twst #twisted wonderland #grim #twst grim #outlander twst #not my world

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