#perhaps now I can do some school work
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im so glad that we never get a clear picture of sophie’s background in leverage & i hope we never do. however i also really like making up various, often conflicting backstories for her in my head. perhaps they’re all backstories for an alias of hers, ones she laid to rest back in season two.
#leverageposting#leverage#sophie devereaux#particularly that one of or both her parents had to move around a lot for work & so she would change herself to fit in at every new school#or new town etc etc. and that whatever original identity she had was dropped due to some kind of really awful event and her bio family think#she’s dead. eg she got into some kind of extreme legal trouble for the first time & she faked her death & everyone she knew as a kid thinks#she’s dead too. like. astrid wasn’t the first person she left to miss/mourn her.#but also that she was a teen runaway at like age ~16 and pretended to be an adult (like. 18/19) cause theres not much you can do by yourself#as a minor like booking flights or renting an apartment. and so began her first proper alias. and she was a pickpocket until she could fund#her life fully through grifting & cons.#or alternatively her parents died when she was a teen & she was old enough to become an emancipated minor (everyone in lev is an orphan)#and she kind of just fell into crime from there bc she had no one#or perhaps she got married at 17 and realised how fucked it all was and stashed money until she could run away & leave it all behind. that’s#bc of a single vague sentence on john rogers’ blog saying she was married at 17 and in context it was quite possibly a joke or random#hypothetical example but i was like what if???? What If???????#i also like the hc that she’s trans which i’ve seen a few times#in some versions in my mind her parents were okay and in some versions they were awful and in some versions it was so complicated.#i think tara has heard one story and parker or hardison have heard another and nate has never heard any story. he’s never asked.#she is here now and that’s all that needs knowing. and sophie devereaux is her real name in any way it matters.#eliot has also never asked and she asked if he was curious once and he just asked if she was curious about What He Did and that was answer#enough for the both of them. just a mutual agreement not to ask and it actually solidified their bond.#i think she struggled for a long time about whether to tell her new family The Real Story but in much the same way we never hear her birth#name bc it’s not Her anymore… she never gives The Real Story. bc it no longer defines who she is. she’s so much more than whatever happened.#lvg
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Knitting class at the school was yesterday, not today.
But today was pizza day.
As I'm sorting the boxes of pizza by class (the pizza shop does most of the work, we just need to read the names and then check the totals against the sheets for each class), some of the students I've been working with came through.
Now, yesterday was the last knitting class. I'm coming back next week, but that's a "where do you go from here?" presentation, not knitting time. One of the kids had forgotten this, and had been planning on starting a bunny yesterday. (Thank you so much to whoever suggested that project, it's been a huge hit). So I drew out the instructions for him, and he slid his stitches onto a chopstick (I don't have enough needles to let the kids keep them, but yarn is a consumable so they can keep it if they want).
Today, when he sees me in the hall, he calls out to me that he's finished the bunny.
I told him to bring it next week so he can show it to me.
#this is why I'm doing the teaching!#this is why I've told the teacher I'll come and teach her grade six class#as long as she's still there#until I'm out of kids at the school#the kids who take a pair of chopsticks and a ball of yarn so they can keep going#the ones who didn't know how to knit before I came but are now bugging their grandmother to show them how#the kid who showed up with a bundle of needles that they'd picked up at a thrift store halfway through the knitting series#I think there's benefits to all the kids#perhaps even more so the ones who never pick up the needles again#but now have some understanding of how it works#but what I'm getting out of it#is the joy from all the kids who love knitting now#and never knew it before
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I have spent the last month absolutely plagued by demons (ADHD impulses telling me to just go and adopt a dog even though it's not a good idea with my current living situation) and today I finally submitted an application to volunteer as a dog walker with the local humane society instead. Everybody say good job vyvansebaby
#in college i told myself i would get a dog as soon as i graduated#but then i figured it was a bad idea to have to deal with a new dog in addition to the stress of starting law school#so i decided to wait another year#now here we are#and i am not good at self denial on my best days#and this is something ive been denying myself for NEARLY SIX YEARS#so you can imagine how much i am struggling#BUT#i will not bring a dog into an unsuitable living situation :(#i absolutely will not put myself in a position where i have to surrender a dog#and right now my apartment is just too small#and i dont have a yard#and also. perhaps most importantly#my roommate's cat is an evil violent high-anxiety ASSHOLE#and it would not be fair to either the cat OR the dog to force the two of them to coexist#SO I AM PUSHING MY SELF DISCIPLINE TO THE LIMITS#and doing some good volunteer work in the meantime 🙂
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I love your work so much and it makes me feel a certain way <33 BUTT im here to request something that I've been looking for 🤞🏽
Toji x Fan-Fiction-Writer ! Reader? I'll get on my knees if required 🫶🏽
𝐅𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐢�� 𝐃𝐢𝐜(𝐤)𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧!! | tōji fushiguro
𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: You know, some things are just not meant to be shared, such as fanfiction writing. And how the hell did your boyfriend, of all people, come to be the one to question you about your hobbies? You tell me, you dirty little writer…
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Toji x fem fanfic writer! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! - the reader is mid/late 20s; Toji's in his mid-30s - humor - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - clitoral play (licking, sucking and swiping) - deep impact position - degradation (slut, whore) - use of "Daddy" title - praise + humiliation - spitting - cervix fucking - little bit of rough sex - unprotected sex (psa: wrap the willy; don't be silly) - pet names (baby, cupcake, good girl, mama, princess, sweetheart, sweetie) - aftercare; taking a bath together - usage of a phone; erotic literature/writing - Toji teasing you to no end, the bastard, lol - reader wears glasses cuz why not, hehe - mention of drool/spit.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5k (bless up)
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: bro. this idea cooked so bad, i just HAD to make a fic for it, lmao!! apologies for doing this months late, hope I did the prompt justice, and ty for loving my works~☆
“Nooo, stop, Toji, give it back!”
“Hold on, baby, hold on…Phew, who knew ya liked wrtin’ dirty shit like this? The fuck is ‘pet play—’”
“Oh my God, stop it!”
This had to be, undoubtedly, the worst day of your life.
If there’s one thing every human being on Earth has in common, it’s their love for the weekends. They’re amazing — have two whole days to retreat and relinquish the turmoil and stress after five days straight. They’re the days when you can choose whichever activity you want to enjoy your leisure.
Some people catch up on sleep, others watch a show or try to cook up a new dish, and some go outside and hang out with friends. But then there are those weekdays where it’s satisfying enough to spend your day inside the comfort of your home, delighting in a hobby.
The hobby you chose to indulge in this weekend was writing. And right at this moment, you regret it being the activity you selected.
Why? For one, it wasn’t just any type of writing, like journalling or poetry. No, no; if it were, things would be easier for you to deal with now. Nope, it was fan fiction writing. The type of writing you’ve known since middle school and decided to jump in and try for about a year. What started as a curiosity turned out to be a hobby that took up your infatuation to the maximum level: writing pieces every night, taking up requests from your following over six thousand followers, and serving as an outlet to project your fantasies onto the Internet.
What type of fantasies, you might ask? The type you read in a room by yourself or in the corner away from prying eyes, under a blanket with your phone exhibiting the dark secrets that corrupt your mind, or the type that only could be accepted on the Internet and not from the judgmental looks of those in the real world.
But, most certainly, not the type of fantasies you wanted your boyfriend to see!
“Toji, please, give my computer back!”
“Nah, hold on; I wanna see this…Oh, what a title; ‘Fuck Me, Rail Me, Use Me, Daddy—‘“
“TOJI, STOP!”
Perhaps writing fan fiction with your boyfriend occupying your apartment wasn’t the best idea. But you wanted to get a draft don’t by the end of this weekend, and you were almost done with it. You were typing up a storm in your bedroom, sitting at your desk while your man, Toji Fushiguro, was doing at-home exercises in your living room.
And you could’ve sworn you had locked your computer before going to the bathroom. All you know is that after flushing and washing your hands, you opened your bedroom door to a horrifying sight: Toji, sweaty from his routine in his sweats and wife beater, holding up your laptop that showed the exact draft that you were working on! No, no, NO! You almost tripped dashing to take the device, but the older man was too quick and effortlessly dodged your attempts while still reading the material. And now you know why you are hopping around your room trying to catch the man and stop him from reading more of your stuff.
Spoiler alert: your efforts were beyond futile, huffing and puffing in complete defeat on your bed. Your boyfriend was sitting beside you, still reading aloud while scrolling through your drafts, to your dismay. Your ears and cheeks harbored an unbearable heat that you could cry at any second, and you covered your face in case it were to happen. God, please kill me now!
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, how many of these shits have you written?” Toji inquires, his forest green eyes scanning every draft as if the list were endless. “How long have you been doin’ this?”
“For…a while.” You can barely muster the confidence to utter an adequate response. How could I have forgotten to lock my damn computer?!
“How long’s a while?”
“Uhhh, a…a year?”
The silence was pinching your skin enough, but you don’t know if you preferred it over the next thing he said. “Wow, who would’ve thought my sweet angel was a dirty lil’ thing writing filth like this?” Oh, you wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and die. You can practically sense the smirk on his stupid, handsome face, pulling the scar off his lip! And it hurts your being that he laughs at you grabbing a pillow to scream into oblivion. “What a horny minx.”
You removed the pillow to tell him off. “It’s not all my fault! Most of those aren’t even my ideas; some of my followers asked me to write—“
“Followers?” God, would it have killed you to shut up? “So you got people readin’ your stuff?”
Downcast eyes to avoid his surveying ones, “W–Well, yes…People like how I write, so I…..Write whatever they ask me.”
“Oh, wow,” raven eyebrows lift while looking at the screen, flipping through the notes of your drafts to your blog with your completed works. “So over a hundred freaks like how freaky you write.”
“Hey, d–don’t say it like that!”
“Oh really?” You didn’t like how he said that, nor when he pulled up one of your drafts to read. “… ’You spread your legs on instinct as she sucks on your chest, and the woman takes the initiative by sliding a hand down to your—‘“
“Stop, stop, STOP!” You sit upright and try again to take the computer away from him, but Toji swiftly moves to the bedroom floor. Fuck! It was hopeless, so you groan in exasperation. “Quit it, Toji; you had your fun, so give it back!”
He didn’t think so; finding something new about you made him curious to no bounds. And for it to be a bit of a suggestive side of you? Oh, how ashamed you were of him finding this out tickled him. “Damn, there’s so much on here…Have you ever written ‘bout shit we’ve done?”
You couldn’t believe he asked you that question — you couldn’t believe you were in this situation at all! Are you serious ”—ly asking me that?!?”
“I’m not hearin’ a ‘yes’ or ‘no.’” Now, this is just diving into a more profound level of embarrassment than you could handle. “Did’ya?”
“……………yes.”
“Wait, fr’ real?! Which ones?”
“I’m not telling you! Just give me my laptop—“
“Hell nah,” his elbow is strong enough to keep you at bay—how pathetic on your part being treated like a kid. “I’m curious to see what my lil’ sweetheart is tellin’ strangers ‘bout how we do our business—“
“I’m not telling them anything!!” You retort. “I-I just use our experience as a means of…references when I’m writing,” thumbs find themselves fidgeting together. “It…It helps when I don’t know how to describe a feeling, or….what it’s like during certain…..positions.” Was the room getting stuffy, or were you shrinking under the growing pressure of every word coming out of your mouth? Who knows.
“Is there stuff y’ve written before that you’d like fr’ us to try?” Oh, for fuck’s sake, this was too much, bringing your –his– hoodie up to shield you from this predicament. And it only worsens when he stares your way, having you close up the hoodie by the drawstrings and collapse to his shoulder. Toji chuckles at your routing self, wrapping an arm around you. “Can’t even be honest fr’ a second.”
“Toji, pleaseeee,” whining doesn’t help, the older man moving the laptop out of your lazy attempt to retrieve it. “Give it baaack…!”
“Nnm, nnm, don’t wanna,” he places the device away to the ground and takes your hand with his. “Now I gotta read what weird shit you’ve been keepin’ ‘way from me.”
You shake your head frantically. “Please don’t! Don’t you think you’ve tormented me enough today?”
“Now, why would I ever get tired of fucking with ya?” The smirk on his face is still present after you open the hoodie to sneak a glare. “Shoulda thought ‘bout that and locked y’r laptop screen.”
“You’re such a fucking asshole…” his laugh at your words only proves your point, and you bury your face in his chest. This entire thing was so outrageous. How in the world were you this dumb enough not to double-check to make sure your computer was locked from prying eyes? What an amateurish move! Not even your closest friends know that you write fanfiction, so to have your boyfriend be the one to not only find out but bombard you with questions about your secret hobby is nothing short of humiliating. It can’t get any worse than this…
…Or so you thought.
“Hey,” you perk up to look at Toji. “You said ya got followers askin’ ya what they want you to write, right?” You nod meekly, twirling your thumbs with the bottom of your shirt. “Show me some.”
Appalled, you gawk, “Wh–why would I—”
“I know you have favorites from the hundreds I’ve been looking at for the past five minutes. So, are ya gonna show ‘em to me, or am I gonna have to read every single one to find out?”He didn’t show interest in returning the laptop to you even after asking the question. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, baby; I bet ya can look it up on y’r phone or somethin’.”
Your pout deepens in defeat as you begrudgingly stuff a hand inside the pocket of your leggings to pull out your phone to click on an app. Your thumb clicks and scrolls for a few seconds before you peer to him and say, “…I do have some favorites.”
Jesus, it hurt to admit that to someone, especially with your him of all people, who is without a doubt getting an absolute kick out of this, the fucking bastard! This was beyond embarrassing; nothing could ever top this moment. Indeed, there is nothing else he could have done that could have made this predicament any worse than it already is. At least that’s what you tell yourself to cope because Toji’s grin on his face says otherwise. And what he says afterward makes your blood shift to ice.
“Why don’t ya read ‘em to me.”
Yup, you were killing yourself tonight.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
“Go on; read that short one fr’ me.”
“Ahh—…Hahhh, ‘Sitting here and thinking…about your faves…Mmmm.”
For some reason, this felt so. Fucking. Wrong!
You already knew it was a bad idea for you to read your works to your boyfriend at his request. However, to be fulfilling said wish in this manner? The mortification had your ears ringing a thousandfold.
How would you have foreseen this yourself, face stuffed to the pillow with your phone held up by your right hand with your legs spread up and your bottom propped up? Who the hell reads like this?! And on top of that, your boyfriend is alongside you, his body behind you. The inability to see what he’s doing arises uneasiness in the soul, quivers sneaking up as you feel the rough pads of his fingertips greet the skin of your ass after sneaking inside the oversized hoodie.
Breath hitches at the slide of your panties, coming down for his hands to grope the flesh wholly. “To..ji…” his name leaves in shakes.
“C’mon, baby,” you swallow thickly at the cupping of your chasm. Toji chuckles at the twitch felt on his palm, “Read it properly, yeah? Word for word.”
Oh, fuck, your brows trench together. “T…’Thinking about your faves pleasing you from behind. He knows he has to tease you a bit—Tmmm,” his lightly hits your butt. “‘B-By massaging your ass with his strong hands,” he does so, kneading your ass skillfully that has you involuntarily purring to his touch. “…’Keeping you still and relaxed so he can later feel you with his fingers and—“ his forefinger and middle slowly come from your clit to the entrance, biting your lips. “Nhhmm, hahhh.”
“Go on,” Toji scolds, the middle digit sliding up and down with a faint push. Your back quakes to the touch, fingers gripping the pillow. “What else is y’r fav doing?”
You inhale. “Mmmm…’and circle one of them around to warm you up—‘“ spit gulped down again when Toji’s digit did the exact thing as told. “‘And then, when he knows you’re ready for him, he sneaks them insi—‘ Aaaiiii!” His middle finger is shoved into your vagina, and your toes instantly curl before he pushes the rest ever so slowly. “Oh! Ohhh, fuck…’He…then comes to your shoulder and says to your ear to make you tingle…”
“…’Stay still, sweetie,’” woah. You were not expecting that; you were too focused on trying to read your words, and Toji bending to your ear to read his part wasn’t noticed at all. You only hope he didn’t catch the clasp of your vaginal walls around his finger (he most definitely did), hoping the soft chortle meant nothing. “‘Gonna let me make y’ feel good, yeah?’” Jesus Christ, his gruff voice relayed this so intimately to your eardrums that your heart was beating too hard.
Toji’s finger goes faster, nearly having you almost drop your phone. Your face smooshes to the pillow from the scrape of his fingertip, biting on the pillowcase as he puts in the other finger. He whispers to your ear to keep going; unbelievable…So you lift your head and try. “J-J…’Just thinking about how easy he could make you cum—Mmmph! Wi-With his fingersss…scratching and rubbing your insides so precisely until you’re practically begging to mess his hand up’…”
“Oh, fr’ real?” The perk of his tone makes you anxious. “Well, don’ mind if I do.”
The pace of his ring and middle finger increase, and you gasp sharply. The onslaught of rubs to your inner channel is enough to have your lower half writhe despite Toji keeping your legs grounded with his single one. Oh, fucking Christ, your glasses up to your smooshed cheeks the more you try to conceal your cries, proven to be trivial as the seconds go by.
“Aww, whaddaya think y’re doin’?” He coos with a kiss to your nape; you nearly shut down. His free hand takes your phone, “Tryin’ to hide that cute voice of y’rs from me? Fuck that,” he then removes his digits from your chasm as you yelp and makes you flip to your back. Oh, fuck no! Your hands go to cover your face—nope, Toji is quick to move them away. “Lemme see you, mama…Now, let’s see what else you should read fr’ me.” He swipes your phone screen, “This too wordy, this long as fuck—goddamn, baby; you writin’ whole ass novels or somethin’?”
“Shut up,” you reply as your legs move, and Toji’s left hand removes your undies.
“Ah, this one!” He hands you back your cellular device. Your eyes catch the first sentence, and your face morphs into dread before staring back at him to meet his grin. “Go ‘head,” he says cooly, spreading your legs by the knees.
“…’Picture this: your favorite coming to your room and seeing you on your bed and striding to you to taste you,” you inhale deeply at the blow of air on your wet southern folds. “‘He crawls up to you while you’re busy scrolling on the phone, busying himself with placing kisses to your stomach and down to your undies. He’ll then take them off and spread your legs for him, greeting your privates with his ton’—Ghhh…!” Toji licks your slit leisurely; you gulp at the muscle perching between the lips of your labia. “Hahhh, shit…’The smell and taste of you are so inviting he can barely keep it together, virtually inching to stuff his face with your pussy. He kisses it, lips petting your clit,’” he does so, and you chew your bottom lip. “‘Then his tongue goes excruciatingly slow to e-explore your folds,” your exhale is shaky as Toji’s tongue laps and swirls; fuck, I can’t do this…
The older man, on the other hand, flips a switch and goes to town. You knew this was a bad idea; if there’s one thing Toji loved doing more than fucking your cunt, it’s eating it out. He pushes your legs up by the knees for easier access, the angle perfect for him to propel his mouth onto your entrance. You shriek, his nose frequently grinding the hood of your cunt as his scarred lips and tongue suck and lick you feverishly.
“—Tahhh! Ohhhshit, no…!” You cry, throwing your head back to the pillow. “Ahhnn, Tojiii, stop…not too fast—Oooh!”
He spits, mixing his saliva with your slick as he laves. “Mmmph, shit, taste ’o good,” Toji pushes his face further as he sucks on your clit, and you nearly choke on your sob. “Yeah, yeah, let ‘em out; scream like a real whore.” You jerk, but his hands firmly keep you down. “Keep goin’, cupcake, finish y’r reading.”
“Khhh, God, I can’t,” you gulp when emerald eyes peer toward you. “…’Before long, he’s too overwhelmed by you that he can’t take it anymore, stuffing his face between your legs and having you cry out his name in prayers—your phone is no longer a priority.’” Jesus, you can hear his grunts along with the lascivious sounds coming from below; he’s so fucking turned on. “‘Now he has your attention, playing with your…pussy like a toy just to hear you squeak.”
“Fuck yeah,” he groans as he sticks his fore and middle digits into you. Fingers go to and fro frantically, and your free hand grabs his raven hair. “Christ, y’ sound so fuckin’ hot. More, gimme more,” a long and harsh kiss to your clit makes you want to arch so bad. “Good girl, good fuckin’ girl…”
You hiss at the graze of your vagina; keeping your eyes open is hard to do. Lips go agape, and your noises fly out with no restraint. Your legs tremble, impending in a wish to close from the curl of Toji’s fingers. Your senses become too keen, your nerves heightening with every massage of your walls, lick and slurp of your slick and clit.
“Ohooo, nhhmm, fuck, Tojiiii,” another suck to your clit has you grip the sheets. “Stooop, please; I’m gonna cumm…!”
However, your boyfriend has another idea in his head. “Oh no, you don’t, princess,” his fingers leave you hurriedly with a squeal. He yanks for your phone once more to find yet another piece of yours for you to read, giving you so little time to recuperate. Until he scoffs with a smirk, “Ohh, read this one aloud next.”
You take the device returned to you cautiously, scanning the first few words that catch your eye. Curiosity snaps to apprehension, “W-wait, no, please!” Begging won’t work, but it doesn’t hurt to try. “Please, Toji, look for some—“
“Aht, aht,” the click of the tongue shuts you. “C’mon, sweetheart, that ain’t what y’re callin’ y’r fav right now.” He squeezes your thigh, “What’s my name?”
“Toji, pleas—“
“Mm, mm,” he pinches you, a warning. “Try again.”
Excitement Nervousness flicker through your soul, breathing tardily as you muster to answer. “Sorry…Daddy.” The title burnt your tongue when it left your mouth, and the smile lifted Toji’s scar even more.
“Good,” he praises. “Now read.”
“…One of my followers asked about writing a post about deep impact, so it’s—“
“Deep impact?” He questions while spreading your legs. “The hell’s that?”
“I-It’s a, uhh,” you push up your glasses. “A position where you…kinda, like, sit on one of my legs and lift the other to your shoulder.”
Black eyebrows rise. “Ohhh, somethin’ like this, huh?” Sturdy hands find your ankle and lift your leg to his shoulder, and Toji then moves to have your other leg in between his. Your lips flatten when the groin of his pants—aka, the pitched tent–touches your hole. He whistles, “Oh, now I got a new favorite to add fr’ later.” His words aren’t meant to jest, so you frown as he snickers. “Alright, what did you write for this?”
You lick your lips; why? Toji uses his free hand to bring his sweats down, not surprised by the lack of underwear as his erection springs out. His cock is standing and ready for you, the precum oozing out alluring your eyes and your lip bitten by excited teeth. Of course, your vagina is clenching to a void—anticipation is a hell of a drug affecting your entire figure.
“Don’t get too distracted, mama,” he caught you eyeing him, lifting the hem of his wife’s beater to bite down on. Your ears and cheeks scorched at the sight of his abs and torso. “Read those words.”
Your gaze flickers to your phone while Toji lines his dick to your entrance, a gulp at the kiss of his glans and your inner labia. “…’Daddy has you propped in a deep impact, a position catered to mutual pleasure and closeness. He taps you with the tip to have you excited, then slowly pushes himself into your—Mmfff!…y-your warmth,” reminding yourself to maintain a steady breath; Toji pushes his cockhead into your slick as you’re distracted. A few seconds fly by, and he slips right in; a gasp exiting your puffy lips indicates so. “‘H–He gently shoves every inch and stretches you out,’” his girth is lethal, your eyes rolling up the further his tip goes, scrapping your texture and your opening suiting for his length. “‘A-And, it feels so good to have him making you full and good’—Hoohh?!?”
That’s it, that’s what you were anxious about—you felt the jab of his tip on your cervix. You freeze instantly, too shocked to breathe as the hit was spontaneous. Your body locks down for a quick second to process what happened.
Toji notices your tightened grip and hisses, “Fffuuckin, shit…! So tight,” his hips go sluggish, and you feel his veins and shaft brush nicely with your insides. You sneak a glance at his flashed abdomen; the flex of his abs as he pushes his pelvis in waves is a sight to see–enough to put you in a trance.
You continue. “‘His hip work is pleasuring, having you wail and cry out f-for more…the sensation of Daddy’s dick venturing inside and hitting your sweet spots is enough to make your toes curl—Nhhaaa…”
He can sense you gripping on him more; fuck, it feels so good. His thrusts go a little faster, forming a minimal medium. You exhale through your nostrils at the change of pace, and grazes against your walls become periodic and long-lasting the deeper he goes.
“Daaah, ahhh, f-fuuck,” you whimper aloud. “Tojiii, y’ feel so g—Nnnmm!?!“ You nearly swallow your tongue from the sudden pound of him, the rub of your G-spot too abrupt to predict.
“Who?” God, you know he’s getting a good kick out of this, the fucker. He pushes his cock to the hilt, and it takes everything in your power not to babble from the overwhelming intensity.
“Daddy, daddyyy, don’t…!” Correcting yourself as his fingers dance around your unattended clit. “I’m sorry, you just feel so good..”
That’s more like it. “Good girl,” he bends closer, his knees spreading further apart. He pushes the leg on his shoulder so that the angle is plausible for him to rut harder. You shriek and squirm to his enjoyment, “Keep readin’.”
“‘Y-…You’re cries become more shameful the harder and faster he goes,” Toji stimulates for a harsher pound; another hit to your cervix has you winded. Despite your gasping for air, he doesn’t relent, and you jerk to undulate to another poke. “Sh-shiiit, Jesusss…! ‘He pistons so hard, so deep, it’s difficult even to think straight when all you can think is—‘“ a choked sob from a slow pull before a devious snap of the hips. “A-All you c–an think…Ahahh!” Another nudge to your G-spot; this is so hellish!
The culprit scoffs softly. “Think ‘bout what, baby?” He swipes and pinches your clit to have you jolt and whine. “Tell Daddy the rest.”
Fuck, I can’t take it anymore! The phone slips your hand, barely missing your head. “Daddyyy, I can’t!”
“Why? What’s wrong?” Another pinch to the bud pairs with a poke to your delicate womb. Oh, he’s such a dick! “Don’t wanna read fr’ me?” He chuckles aloud at you shaking your head ‘no’. “Why’s that?”
“C-Cuz, if you keep going, I’ll,” a head thrown back at another nip on your clitoris. “Ahh, I-I’ll…!” Shit, you can feel it, the climb rocking your bones to entail your soon climax.
“What? Ya wanna cum on Daddy��s dick instead of readin’ like a sweetheart,” don’t believe the words; his faux disappointment doesn’t match the merciless thrusts and the devilish grin. “Wanna act like a whole slut and cum on me?”
“Yesss, yes, pleasee!!” You don’t care anymore; you want to let it out. “Please, Daddyyy, I wanna cummm!!”
“Heh, what a nasty girl you are—Nnnmm! Fuck, just milkin’ me dry, beggin’ fr’ it, huh?” The same fingers he used to play with your clit come to your lips to shove inside, forcing you to taste yourself. “Go ‘head, mama; let y’rself go, be the slut you really are…Hahhh, shit, c’mere,” he grabs for both your wrists with his free hand after taking off your glasses and propels you towards him at the same time as he pounds. Holy fuck, this position was getting rougher, pulling you in and hitting your cervix with accurate hits that you’re whining and twitching. Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck! It’s too much, it’s all too much to bear, so it’s no wonder you climax in seconds.
You cry with the breach of your crescendo, your inner muscles contracting around the cock, hitting your womb. Your nerves are now peaked as the air is sensitive to your skin, and you feel so out of breath, everything happening all at once that you can’t keep up as you thank Toji in babbled prayers, still sucking on his fingers as your vagina flutters and coats him of your essence.
“Good job, cupcake,” he comes closer and removes his digits. “Can’t beat the real thing, right?” He cups and massages your cheeks before spitting into your mouth.
You don’t even flinch, too fucked out to even care, just moaning to his lips as he brings you in for a passionate kiss as his hips keep going until he’s done and satisfied…
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
“Ughhh, I can’t believe I just did that…”
“Pfft quit whinin’. Don’t act like ya didn’t enjoy it.”
“I hate you so fucking much, you know that?”
“Whatever y’ say, Ms. Novelist.” You grumble at the name before he brings the washcloth to wipe down your neck.
You and Toji were now in the bathroom, your nude bodies squished together, with the warm water cleansing you both. Hair and skin damp, your back meshed to his front as you sit between his legs. The soft yellow lighting basks the bathroom with a warm glow as you two bathe in relaxation, a needed state after the excitement prior.
You snatch the washcloth before Toji wipes your face clean off. “Why did you have to be so nosy, looking at my laptop for what?” You wipe his arm that rests on the rim of the tub.
He rolls his eyes, knowing he’s in for a lecture. “Well, if ya didn’t want me to see, shoulda locked the shit.”
“That doesn’t excuse the fact that you’re nosy as hell! Could’ve just looked somewhere else or left the room!”
“Hmph, well, when you see the words ‘Down and Dirty’ all bolded and big and see another tab with a pic of a rimjob, who wouldn’t stop—“
“Okay, okay!” It would be best if you threw the cloth at him for chortling; such an indecorous personality for someone supposedly older than you. “You’re insufferable.”
“Right back at you,” he whispers to your ear and kisses your cheek. You sigh softly from his lips, resting your head on his shoulder while he pecks your chin. The hand in the water finds your thigh to grope and massage, and you moan at the touch and unwind.
Tranquility fills the cozy space between you two as the silence settles in, the humid air comforting to your nose and eyes, and the drip of the faucet plucking into the tub water is a soothing sound to cajole you into a dormant plane.
However, even when relaxing, it doesn’t stop the bothersome feeling of asking Toji something. And where better than with you in his secure embrace? “Toji,” his name has him open an eye to look your way. “You don’t think I’m…weird, don’t you?”
He raises a brow. “Explain.”
“Like, don’t you find it weird that me, your partner, indulges in hobbies that are…you know, like that,” now your eyes trail away from his gaze. “Writing about fictional fantasies and such, looking up erotic material and stuff…”
A few seconds fly as he scoffs. “Baby, I’ve been lookin’ at porn way before I met you—“
“Th–That’s not what I meant??”
“Besides, it’s nothing more than just writin’ shit that doesn’t exist. Hmm, if anything, now I know y’re just as big of a pervert as I am.”
Anxiousness transitions to peeve. “You are so—“
“Do you like what you do?”
The question takes you aback; the immediate serious tone switch wasn’t expected. “…I..yeah.”
“Are ya hurtin’ anyone?”
“No…at least I don’t want to.”
“Are ya hurtin’ y’reself?” You see what he’s doing, the glint shining from his viridian orb.
“No. I…like this hobby.”
Finally, a small smile contorts that scar of his. “Then I don’t mind it. It’s what ya like to do, so do whatever, sweetie.” He comes to kiss your nose and rest his forehead with yours. “I like ya bein’ a lil’ weird anyway.”
“Jackass…” And there you go, falling in love with him again. You cup his cheek, kiss the other, and repose onto his shoulder with a blissful sigh.
“Now,” you blink back to him. “Can’t lie, think you gotta start callin’ me ‘Daddy’ from now on,” like a scratched record, your heart stops, especially with his mischievous smirk. “Where can I read the rest of y’r stuff at?”
“That’s it,” you ignore his annoying bark of laughter as you try to squirm out of his hold. “Let me out of here, get me out of this fucking tub.”
“Haha, hey, quit it; y’re spillin’ the water!”
© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header art by rororogi morgera + dividers by @/cafekitsune + @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.
#𝑯𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒊 ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ 𝑾𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔: 𝑭𝒊𝒄𝒔#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk smut#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#toji x reader#toji fushigro x reader#toji smut#toji fushiguro smut#toji fushiguro x you#toji x you#fushiguro toji x reader#fushiguro toji x you#fushiguro toji smut#toji fanfic#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen fic#jjk fic#anime smut
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By Bernie Sanders | July 13, 2024
I will do all that I can to see that President Biden is re-elected. Why? Despite my disagreements with him on particular issues, he has been the most effective president in the modern history of our country and is the strongest candidate to defeat Donald Trump — a demagogue and pathological liar. It’s time to learn a lesson from the progressive and centrist forces in France who, despite profound political differences, came together this week to soundly defeat right-wing extremism.
I strongly disagree with Mr. Biden on the question of U.S. support for Israel’s horrific war against the Palestinian people. The United States should not provide Benjamin Netanyahu’s right-wing extremist government with another nickel as it continues to create one of the worst humanitarian disasters in modern history.
I strongly disagree with the president’s belief that the Affordable Care Act, as useful as it has been, will ever address America’s health care crisis. Our health care system is broken, dysfunctional and wildly expensive and needs to be replaced with a “Medicare for all” single-payer system. Health care is a human right.
And those are not my only disagreements with Mr. Biden.
But for over two weeks now, the corporate media has obsessively focused on the June presidential debate and the cognitive capabilities of a man who has, perhaps, the most difficult and stressful job in the world. The media has frantically searched for every living human being who no longer supports the president or any neurologist who wants to appear on TV. Unfortunately, too many Democrats have joined that circular firing squad.
Yes. I know: Mr. Biden is old, is prone to gaffes, walks stiffly and had a disastrous debate with Mr. Trump. But this I also know: A presidential election is not an entertainment contest. It does not begin or end with a 90-minute debate.
Enough! Mr. Biden may not be the ideal candidate, but he will be the candidate and should be the candidate. And with an effective campaign taht speaks to the needs of working families, he will not only defeat Mr. Trump but beat him badly. It’s time for Democrats to stop the bickering and nit-picking.
I understand that some Democrats get nervous about having to explain the president’s gaffes and misspeaking names. But unlike the Republicans, they do not have to explain away a candidate who now has 34 felony convictions and faces charges that could lead to dozens of additional convictions, who has been hit with a $5 million judgment after he was found liable in a sexual abuse case, who has been involved in more than 4,000 lawsuits, who has repeatedly gone bankrupt and who has told thousands of documented lies and falsehoods.
Supporters of Mr. Biden can speak proudly about a good and decent Democratic president with a record of real accomplishment. The Biden administration, as a result of the American Rescue Plan, helped rebuild the economy during the pandemic far faster than economists thought possible. At a time when people were terrified about the future, the president and those of us who supported him in Congress put Americans back to work, provided cash benefits to desperate parents and protected small businesses, hospitals, schools and child care centers.
After decades of talk about our crumbling roads, bridges and water systems, we put more money into rebuilding America’s infrastructure than ever before — which is projected to create millions of well-paying jobs. And we did not stop there. We made the largest-ever investment in climate action to save the planet. We canceled student debt for nearly five million financially strapped Americans. We cut prices for insulin and asthma inhalers, capped out-of-pocket costs for prescription drugs and got free vaccines to the American people. We battled to defend women’s rights in the face of moves by Trump-appointed jurists to roll back reproductive freedom and deny women the right to control their own bodies.
So, yes, Mr. Biden has a record to run on. A strong record. But he and his supporters should never suggest that what’s been accomplished is sufficient. To win the election, the president must do more than just defend his excellent record. He needs to propose and fight for a bold agenda that speaks to the needs of the vast majority of our people — the working families of this country, the people who have been left behind for far too long.
At a time when the billionaires have never had it so good and when the United States is experiencing virtually unprecedented income and wealth inequality, over 60 percent of Americans live paycheck to paycheck, real weekly wages for the average worker have not risen in over 50 years, 25 percent of seniors live each year on $15,000 or less, we have a higher rate of childhood poverty than almost any other major country, and housing is becoming more and more unaffordable — among other crises.
This is the wealthiest country in the history of the world. We can do better. We must do better. Joe Biden knows that. Donald Trump does not. Joe Biden wants to tax the rich so that we can fund the needs of working families, the elderly, the children, the sick and the poor. Donald Trump wants to cut taxes for the billionaire class. Joe Biden wants to expand Social Security benefits. Donald Trump and his friends want to weaken Social Security. Joe Biden wants to make it easier for workers to form unions and collectively bargain for better wages and benefits. Donald Trump wants to let multinational corporations get away with exploiting workers and ripping off consumers. Joe Biden respects democracy. Donald Trump attacks it.
This election offers a stark choice on issue after issue. If Mr. Biden and his supporters focus on these issues — and refuse to be divided and distracted — the president will rally working families to his side in the industrial Midwest swing states and elsewhere and win the November election. And let me say this as emphatically as I can: For the sake of our kids and future generations, he must win.
Bernie Sanders is the senior senator from Vermont.
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To be honest. DCxDP where the reason Danny meets the bats is Ace the Bat-hound
Like, just think about it for a second. Danny is in Gotham for college, or maybe he just moved out to find a city where having mad scientist parents isn’t actually that unusual.
He can see ghosts.
The ghosts know this.
Now he’s getting harassed left and right by spirits trying to get closure. Fine, whatever, most of them are a one-and-done type deal, and the amount of ghosts trying to get his help steadily decreases.
Except for this one very stubborn dog.
It just keeps showing up and leading him to crime scenes! He doesn’t know how many “anonymous tips” he can call in to the cops before they trace his phone! And this dog, this incredibly good boy, will not stop trying to help the city. He’s never met anyone with such a strong sense of justice, let alone a dog. Can dogs even have a moral compass?
And so Danny just accepts the fact that Ace isn’t going anywhere and becomes his reluctant sidekick/dedicated medium. He leans into the whole thing, dressing up in a mix of traditional magic-user attire and accessories that pay homage to the ghost dog.
He becomes somewhat well known. The psychopomp detective following around the shadowy figure of a German Shepard? That’s unusual! That’s weird! I mean, it’s not the weirdest thing in Gotham, sure, but he’s a new vigilante and he’s got a ghost dog that people can only see when it’s around him. Someone’s gonna notice.
Damian, as Robin, is the first to reach out to him.
Ace doesn’t know Damian but he does know a Robin, and while this isn’t his Robin, he’s still friendlier than usual. Danny’s panicking because oh god the bats are here and also is this kid gonna steal my ghost dog, Damian is absolutely delighted by Ace, and Ace is just happy to see a Robin again.
Damian decides that the psychopomp isn’t a danger to anyone, and there’s no reason to put this encounter into his reports, really, and perhaps Danny can help with some of his cases in the future.
Danny is sweating bullets because Damian basically tells him that he’ll keep him secret as long as he gets to play with Ace. Ace is happy that he’s finally getting some bat affiliated crime-fighting assistance.
And so, Danny is now both Ace AND Damian’s reluctant assistant. At least whenever he’s in trouble, he can always call a middle schooler to help him.
(Is Robin even in school? He’s out patrolling damn near every night, and he stays out late as hell. Does he have a bedtime? He should.)
Eventually it gets to the point where Damian is going over to Danny’s house. When he first sees it, he has a damn bitch you live like this moment, to which Danny responds that not everyone has the money to afford a nice place. Damian counters that he could at least take the time to clean up, and Danny replies that he’s working, going to school, and being a vigilante assistant to a ghost dog, something’s got to give.
Danny nearly has a heart attack when he checks his bank account the next day and sees that someone transferred him 10,000 dollars.
And so they get into a routine. Danny and Damian fight crime with Ace at night, and occasionally Damian stops by during the day to play with Ace and have Danny help with his homework.
(Damian is smart enough to do it on his own, but some of the instructions are written incredibly confusingly, and he would never admit to needing help to his family. Danny is just glad that the kid is in school and cares about his education, blissfully unaware that he’s basically emotionally adopted him.)
Damian is used to being in Danny’s company.
Eventually, when going over a case with the family, Damian absentmindedly remarks that he’ll have to ask Danny about some of the clues that they might be missing. Nightwing asks who he means and Damian makes a face like he just swallowed a lemon.
Cue shitstorm.
Who is “Danny?” Why is Damian willing to ask for help from anyone, much less someone outside of the family? Does he know who Damian is? Has Damian been compromised? What the hell is going on?
Damian now has to explain that Danny is the psychopomp with the ghost dog who he might have met hunted down while on patrol and conveniently not mentioned, but he���s not a bad person, really, and he lets him play with Ace, and he’s been quite helpful on certain cases due to his ability to talk to ghosts.
Bruce insists that the family meet Danny. Damian, hoping that he won’t just skip town the second he hears the news, relents.
Danny is surprisingly eager to meet the bats, considering his earlier fears.
Damian, blissfully unaware of what’s coming, sets a time and place to meet.
Once everyone is there, he gives Bruce the earful of a lifetime.
Robin is in middle school! Danny knows that there’s no way to stop the boy from going on patrol, but you could at least shift his schedule so he gets enough sleep on school nights! Does the Bat even know where he is half the time?! (No) And why isn’t he comfortable asking his family for help with both cases and homework? Did they ever even notice how much time he was spending at Danny’s house? If Danny was a bad person, he could have seriously hurt the poor boy! Shame on you!
Nightwing is mortified that Damian didn’t trust him enough to tell him about any of this. Red Hood is laughing his ass off, because yeah Danny is making good points but he’s also chewing out the literal Batman. Tim is recording the whole thing. Steph is delighted by the absolute gall of this Danger Twink™️, and already planning to add him to several groupchats. Damian is more embarrassed than he’s ever been in his entire life.
You, he points to Nightwing, did your academic life feel supported when you were a Robin? Nightwing is too stunned to speak. Red Hood, eternal shit-stirrer, says that oh, we all prioritized patrol over our education, that’s just how it is. Red Robin actually dropped out of high school to avoid distractions, did you know that?
Danny honest-to-god shrieks at this.
He finishes his angry rant and leaves, everyone too stunned to stop him.
And as it turns out, Tim wasn’t the only person recording the whole thing.
The entire internet is blowing up with Psychopomp The Danger Twink™️’s rant. People are taking sides. Things are getting messy. Red Hood literally admitting on-camera to previously being a Robin is somehow not the main focus here.
Eventually someone connects some dots from the video, as well as stories circling the internet about the psychopomp. A ghost dog named Ace, who is the literal only reason that the psychopomp is fighting crime at all, which seems incredibly fond of Nightwing and Robin.
A crime-fighting dog who wants constant attention from both the current and original Robin.
Oh my god, Ace the Bat-hound died and became a crime-fighting ghost.
And, somehow, that’s still not the strangest thing going on in Gotham.
#dcxdp#dc x dp#dp x dc#dpxdc#dp x dc crossover#dc x dp prompt#literally Ace is too good a boy to pass on#this veered wildly into ‘Danny emotionally adopts Damian’ but really it’s what he deserves#sometimes family is an ex child assassin an undead college student and a ghost dog#also Danny gives literally no shits during investigations because he Cannot Die#he will just casually take 40 bullets to the chest like it’s nothing#if he encounters a rogue he will beat the everloving hell out of them and then give them Jazz’s card#(she’s doing confidential therapy for vigilantes and rogues)#except for the ones who are too far gone. like the joker#he’s a bitch and Danny hates him#if given the opportunity Danny would gladly kill him but Clockwork says he’s not allowed to do that#so he settles with beating the hell out of him and then covering all his stuff in glue#and of course alerting the authorities
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↳ Index [Day 31 - Werewolves]
Pairing: Alpha Dom!Jungkook x f. Omega sub!Reader
Genre: childhood best friends to enemies to lovers!AU, werewolf!AU
Warnings: Kook is kinda cold at first, it is implied that OC gets sold into a forced marriage where she will be tortured and assaulted (not to Kook but a villain character hahaha), yeah...her future is not looking good, or is it?, Koo might have a plan :----)
Kinks: the trope of "just the tip" and "we shouldn't be doing this", yeah besties i went there, sex in a shed in the forest, sex by the bonfire, nudity, naked cuddling for warmth *wink wink*, he is bigger and stronger than her, size & muscle & strength kink, he pins her down, fuck i'm literally so small when it comes to him like bro please i have so many thots, hahah sorry i'm really into him haahah, he pins her wrists & puts his hand over her mouth to silence her, huge werwolf dick, knotting, multiple orgasms for both, "just the tip" in spooning position, clit massages, rough penetrative sex in pronebone & doggy style, he has her in a headlock at one point, breeding for the sake of scent marking her, so much fucking cum oh lord, dirty talk, he has fangs, he bites her shoulder, he growls, what if i was weak?? what then??, tears, eye contact, this is emotional & has plot and i wanna write more about them, cuddly & safe aftercare, the plot in this is so good omfg
Wordcount: 11.5k
a/n: Click here if you wanna see his dick. I have zero (0) Z E R O knowledge of the workings of the omegaverse. i know that there’s alphas and betas and omegas but that’s it. and that there is heat and knots and slick and scenting(?) but how the dynamics work or what ABO each means? no clue. so if this is inaccurate, bear with me and let's see it as my interpretation of werwolves instead. Okay? Okay. Jjssjjs i also added this idea to the mix ps: i actually don't wanna talk about this, i need to recover first BRO GOODBYE this was kinktober 2024 besties FJJDF what a way to end it tbfh
The storm caught you by surprise. You wouldn’t particularly mind it if it wasn’t for the company you have to keep.
Jeon Jungkook. A stubborn, self-centred peacock of a man who thinks he is something just because he is the son of the alpha.
Now, to perhaps understand the situation a little better, one might need what the literary world calls backstory.
You lived in a small mountain town far away from any big human city. The town was surrounded by high walls and visitors rarely found their way to it. It was wanted by the townspeople because you weren’t particularly human. Most humans would call you demons, but you like to call yourselves werewolves. You lived in a pack and the town was your lair.
You can be human but also turn into a wolf by choice. Some choose to keep some of their wolfish features such as their golden eyes or sharp fangs, while others looked entirely human when they walked on two legs.
Jeon Jungkook was the son of the pack alpha and therefore heir of the title. His mother was an alpha as well, which naturally gave him the alpha gen. He was stronger and faster than the other wolves in the pack and he had control over his body during the full moon. He never hid his fangs and showed his golden eyes whenever he was provoked. He earned his pack tattoos when he was twelve after killing three enemy wolves and when he turned eighteen, he earned the pack piercings after fulfilling the maturity rituals within a day. Something only his father managed to do before him.
Ever since that day, Jungkook became even more obnoxious and unlikable than he already was.
You weren’t so lucky. Born as an omega into a normal family with normal siblings in a normal house, your life has been pretty…normal. You are the same age as Jungkook, which naturally made you go to the same classes from elementary to high school. And throughout your academic career, you never learned to like him.
He was an alpha while you were an omega. You were the only one like this from your family, but they never treated you differently. You were a beloved and cherished family member and therefore lived a normal life until your older brother made a mistake and you had to carry the consequences.
He killed the promised omega wife of the enemy’s alpha’s son. The warring alpha wanted to slaughter the entire town at first, but Jungkook’s father persuaded him to take revenge another way. Take one of the village’s omegas and marry her to his son. “She will be complacent and quiet. Once she is married, she will be your property. You can take out your anger on her.” So Jungkook’s father told him and the enemy alpha agreed happily. One night later, you were dragged from your home with no way to escape your future. You were born this way, it wasn’t your fault and now it would be your death sentence. You cursed your brother that night who begged to be taken in your stead. You told him to choke on it. It was the last thing you said to him and probably will ever say to him. You already started to regret it.
Jungkook was ordered to make sure that you would arrive at the enemy village safe and sound. It has been three days ever since that night and all your hatred for anyone and anything has been directed solely at him.
“The rain’s annoying me. Let’s take shelter”, Jungkook says dryly.
“No.”
Jungkook glares at you.
“Yes”, he hisses, grabbing your arm by your elbow to drag you to a shed nearby. “I’m not gonna walk in the rain. Besides, it’s late. We need to rest.”
“Let go of me”, you protest, stumbling after him. There isn’t much that you can do. He is stronger and bigger and because of his status, he naturally has almost instinctive control over your actions. You could fight against these instincts, but it’s a lot easier not to.
“Would you rather get sick in the rain?”
“Maybe, yes. Maybe I’ll get sick enough to die. At least like this, I won’t be sold into torture”, you spit, ripping yourself free from his grasp. Again, all your hatred and anger is directed towards him, so it is easy to fight your instincts right now.
Jungkook gawks at you in surprise.
“I mean it”, you insist.
He frowns. He steps close and lifts you off the ground, throwing you over his shoulder.
“Hey! Let me down, you fuck!” you yell, flashing your fangs and kicking around you.
Jungkook merely shoulders you better and walks, frowning deeply.
“You brought this onto yourself.”
“I hate you. I fucking hate you.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Yes, I do. You big, smelling piece of shit.”
Jungkook kicks the shed open and drops you. You stumble in surprise, but catch yourself pretty quickly. You and he are mere inches away, sharing air. The constant lighting cutting the sky illuminates your angry faces. You and Jungkook have your golden eyes out and show off your fangs. Your bodies are steaming as your increased body heats dry the water.
“I���m gonna let it slip because we were classmates, but insult me again and I will make you be quiet. Understood?” he gnarls.
You step closer, making him taste your words.
“Go kiss my ass.”
You turn your back to him and stomp further into the shed.
The shed wasn’t much bigger than ten square meters. There were tools on each wall and some tools scattered around the ground. Clearly it was meant as storage for woodworkers. One corner had neat stacks of wood and on a table, some blankets were stacked in case some of the workers needed to stay the night.
“Great. That’s luxury, isn’t it?” you grumble.
The door slams closed behind you, making you flinch. You don’t look however, wanting to appear stronger than you feel. In truth, you are scared and alone and heartbroken. You are frightened. You are sad. You are afraid. You are helpless and hopeless. And you are only a little bit angry. As you walked, you couldn’t stop crying. You were happy for the rain because it masked the constant tears running down your face and you were happy for the loud thunder masking your sobs.
You are being sold like property to a man who will torture you for sports. All you want is to be home and to be held and to have someone pay for your fucking therapy because, goddamn, you are going to need a hell lot of therapy if you should survive this.
Jungkook is the last person you want to be with right now. He lacks empathy and kindness and has a tendency to impulsive anger. You are waiting for him to hurt you after slamming the door, frozen on the spot.
But it doesn’t come. Instead, he swerves past you to get firewood. You can only watch him, frozen like a scared little girl despite having long moved past your second decade on this cruel earth.
Jungkook uses his claws to ignite the fire by scratching them over a stone. He blows into the amber until it forms flames, then he stands up. He hooks his fingers in his shirt and takes it off.
You gasp and look away. You don’t know what he is going to do but it scares you. Is he going to test you out now? Make sure that the alpha is going to get a good delivery?
“Relax. I need to dry my clothes and I can’t do that on my body. I’ll catch a cold otherwise.”
“Oh.”
Jungkook scoffs and starts unbuckling his belt. You watch his tattooed fingers work. He is wearing heavy silver rings on them. Yep, your people can handle silver without pain. It’s only a myth that it hurts you. Just as garlic being lethal for vampires is a myth. Humans like to tell these tales to sleep better at night.
Jungkook begins taking off his pants, meeting your gawking eyes.
“Stop staring and bring the blankets instead.”
“Oh, uhm. Sorry.”
You instinctively obey.
“Make a bed by the fire. Away from the door.”
You obey again.
Afterwards you lift your head, having to gasp and stare. What? Stare? Why can’t you look away?
He is completely naked, currently hanging up his clothes on a chair. You should want to look away but you can’t. His body is sculpted, his muscles well defined. He currently has his back turned to you. It is so big and broad, contrasting against his small waist. Shit, his legs and butt are so big and sculpted in comparison to it. His back is covered scars. Slashes, bite marks, cuts. Some seem to have dug very deep when fresh.
“Just spit it out”, Jungkook hisses, rolling his shoulders which makes his back muscles shift and flex.
“What?”
“I can feel you staring. Just say what you wanna say.”
“Your back. It’s covered in scars.”
Jungkook touches his own back, tracing the scars he can reach.
“I guess it is.”
“Who did this to you?”
“Too many people to count.”
“What happened to them?”
“The fact that I’m still here and they’re not, should be answer enough. Shouldn’t it?”
You gulp.
Jungkook turns.
You gulp even harder. Look away! You know that no matter how hard you beg your eyes, they won’t look away. It is like they are enchanted.
His pecs are big, clearly sculpted and strong. His stomach is defined, carrying scars as well. But what truly catches your eyes is his cock. Sitting under a dark, masculine bush of pubes, it glistens in the shine of the fire. It is big, even soft, a little tanner than the rest of his skin and sitting against a pair of big, plumb balls made for breeding. So this is what the cock of an alpha looks like. The effect it has on you is embarrassing. You feel slick build up in your holes and saliva collect in your mouth.
“Quit your staring. It’s like you’ve never seen a dick before.”
You shake out of your trance, looking away in embarrassment. Your face feels on fire. Holy fuck, what is wrong with you?
“You have seen dick before, right? Weren’t you and Tae a thing in high school?” he talks as he gets under the blanket.
“Uh, yeah, uh. We were.”
“And knowing Tae, he fucked you. Didn’t he?”
You turn away in embarrassment, rubbing the side of your neck. Of course he did, but Jungkook doesn’t need to know that.
He figures it out instantly however, glancing at your middle when you aren’t looking. Just for a second, nothing more.
“So stop being weird about it”, he says and lies down.
You shrink. Jungkook studies you. You are trembling in your wet, cold clothes. He pities you.
“Get naked and hang your clothes up to dry”, he orders.
You want to move in obedience at first, but then stop. You are too scared to obey instinctively.
“No. Close your eyes.”
Jungkook groans and closes his eyes.
“You’re so stuck up. You should practice being naked in front of other people. I heard that Alpha Urquard likes for his pack to watch wedding nights.”
You bite down tears. Great. Not only will you be assaulted, it will happen in front of god knows how many people. What if you just throw yourself onto one of the sharp tools? It would be a bitch way to go, but it’s better than what will happen to you.
You ogle the pitchfork. Maybe you could do it. Maybe.
“Hey!”
You snap out of it. You whip around, meeting Jungkook’s eyes.
“Hurry up and come here.”
“What?”
“Come here. It’s better than over there.”
You ogle the pitchfork then his darkened face. Did he figure you out?
“I’m not gonna repeat myself. Get out of your wet clothes and come to me.”
“Ple-please close your eyes.”
Jungkook sighs in defeat and obeys. With shaking fingers, you get naked. With trembling knees, you walk to his side. With weak muscles, you get under the blanket next to him. There is only one blanket and you try your fucking hardest not to touch his body in any kind of way. He left you the spot closer by the fire so you were warmer and he could oversee the door.
Jungkook, who senses your presence, opens his eyes. He studies your face, then your body. You have the blanket pulled up to your neck, shivering uncontrollably. Even now, you seem plagued by the cold.
He furrows his brows in distaste and closes the distance. He manages to put his arm around you before your quiet beg freezes him.
“Please don’t hurt me.”
He moves away, studying you in shock. Your eyes are squeezed shut, your fingers are trembling as you grasp the blanket.
“Why would I hurt you?”
The honest confusion in his voice forces you to open your eyes.
The fire casts deep shadows into his face as much as it illuminates other parts of it. His wet hair is drying slowly, sticking to his wrinkled forehead. He is furrowing his brows which explains the wrinkles.
“Why would I hurt you?” he repeats his question with more urgency.
“I don’t know.”
“I was ordered to make sure that you arrive unharmed to Urquard. The last thing I’ll do is hurt you.”
“Please don’t.”
“Please don’t?”
“Don’t make sure that I arrive safely.”
Jungkook blinks in surprise. Such vulnerability isn’t what he expected from the once feisty, rude woman of before. You are tiny in fear, trembling uncontrollably and begging him with greyed, hopeless eyes.
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re gonna be an alpha’s wife. That’s every omega’s dream”, he snarls, sounding weirdly jealous.
You burst into tears instantly, turning your back to him as you curl into a small ball. You wail loudly, unable to pretend any longer. You don’t want to be married off. You don’t want it.
“No, uh… stop crying. I, I’m ordering you to stop crying”, he panics, hissing his words which only makes you cry harder.
He stares for a while, fumbling with his words. In the end he doesn’t know what to say, turning off his brain to speak from his heart instead.
“Don’t cry, it’s gonna be okay”, he says softly, rubbing your shoulder.
His touch is tender and soothing. You sob despite it or perhaps because of it. It feels so weird to receive because it is nice.
“Hey, it’s okay”, he tells you, draping his arm over you. Like this, your bodies are touching under the blanket. He feels so warm against your skin. “It’s gonna be okay.”
“It’s not gonna be okay. I’m being sold like a pig to a man who likes to watch his daughters in law get raped in front of the entire pack and who will use every second of his life to torture me.” You shrink into yourself. “I just wanna die. I’m so scared.”
“Hey no, don’t say that. Don’t be scared, I’m here.”
“I heard that Urquard killed his first wife by ramming a medal hook into her stomach and hanging her like this. All because she couldn’t give him a child with the alpha gen. Please just kill me, please.”
“I’m not gonna kill you, ___.”
The last time Jungkook said your name, you and he were both eleven and played adventurers in the forest. He celebrated his twelfth birthday two weeks later and another two weeks later, he killed those three wolves and got his tattoos. He stopped playing with you and stopped saying your name. Quite frankly, he stopped playing with any children since that day, saying stuff like “a man wouldn’t play stupid stuff” or “my father says that it’s weak to play” and he became quiet and distant. Maybe he became sadder as well and lonelier.
Your name from his tongue after almost fifteen years forces you to turn in his arms. For just a second, the same innocent and playful boy looks back at you before you blink and come back to reality. His features and eyes are still the same shape and colour but he seemed to have grown into them. His left cheek carries a scar these days and his brows are furrowed more than they are relaxed.
“I’m not gonna kill you, ___. And I’m not gonna let you kill yourself either.”
“So you would rather see me sold to a monster?” You squeeze out tears of anger and frustration. “I hate you so much. You sadistic, heartless piece of shit.”
Jungkook frowns deeper.
“You alphas are all the same. You think just because you are stronger than the rest of us, you can push us around like cattle. We aren’t cattle. We are people, we live normal and good lives. We are nothing special but that’s good. We’re boring and mundane but we love deeply. Unlike you disgusting, selfish alphas who see us as nothing but merchandise.”
“Are you done now?”
“I’ve only started. You are heartless, selfish, self-absorbed, apathetic and a snob. At the spot where your heart once was, a rotten piece of coal is sitting and when you talk, plants die out of spite.”
“Anything else you like to add?”
“You are the worst person to ever exist. You are elitist and stubborn and way too obsessed with status. And you…” Your eyes fill with tears. “...you broke my heart before I even knew what heartbreak was.”
Jungkook’s eyes darken in an unfamiliar emotion. Guilt? Regret? More anger?
“We did everything together until one day, you decided that I wasn’t good enough anymore. For fuck’s sake, we were twelve and you acted like I was embarrassing for doing stuff kids our age were allowed to do.”
“You think that I had a choice?” He finally speaks up and you get a feeling that it was your turn to listen. “I stopped being a kid in my father’s eyes the day I killed those wolves. I didn’t wanna push you away, but father made me.”
“What?”
“I became his heir that day, I sealed my fucking fate. I had to stop playing a-and doing kid’s stuff. He forced me to train day in and out. I had to be the perfect man. I was twelve, for fuck’s sake. I was a fucking kid who wanted to play adventurers in the forest with, with his….with his best friend.”
The silence which follows after his confession is deafening. Fifteen years of hating him. Fifteen years of thinking that he hated you. And all this time, he only acted like this because his father made him. You meet his emotional eyes, feeling emotional yourself.
“I was your best friend?” you whisper.
He nods his head, biting down on his lower lip to stop it from trembling.
“I miss you, ___”, he presses out.
You feel lost for words. You are so shaken in fact that you can’t even find it in you to cry. Fifteen years. Fifteen years of hating him for what he did and wishing for an apology you thought would never come and here it is. His confession. His apology.
“It’s been fifteen years and I still do. I miss you and I’m sorry.” He cups your face, wiping away the remnants of tears. “I’m so sorry.”
You stare. And stare. And stare.
“Please say something”, he whispers.
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Just anything, please.”
“You’re the most selfish piece of shit I have ever seen.”
Jungkook’s face falls in shock. His eyes show how much your words hurt him.
“Why tell me your stupid apology now? Why confess to me now? Knowing that I will be sold into a life of sex slavery and torture?” You hit his chest. “Why tell me now when you literally deliver me to my fucking death? You piece of shit, you’re selfish and cruel and I want you dead.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Yes, I do. You and your entire family and the rest of the pack. Die. All of you just die.”
You hit him with more vigour. More and more and more.
“Enough”, he stops you, pinning your wrists into the ground and with it, rendering you helpless, “stop hitting me, please.”
You spit at his face.
Jungkook flinches back. He sits up and wipes it away.
“What the fuck? You spat at me. Why would you do that?”
“Go to hell and shove your sappy confession up your sadistic ass”, you hiss. You feel no ounce of remorse for what you did.
Jungkook wipes your spit into the blanket and moves quickly. He puts your wrists together and pins them above your head. Before you can spit again, he puts his other hand over your mouth, rending your legs useless as well by slinging one of his muscular legs over yours.
There is no fabric between your bodies. You are skin against skin. Raw and naked and hot. You can feel his dick against you and you know that he can feel your tits against his arm. You are rendered useless, vulnerable to whatever he plans to do to you now that spat at him. You are scared, but you are also droopy. It is that same droopiness you felt when you looked at his naked body. Except stronger and more unbearable. You are hotter and there is slick gathering in your holes. You can barely breathe, but maybe this is because of his hand over your mouth.
“Stop fighting me and listen”, Jungkook talks with his lips close to your face. You can’t stop staring at them. You fight him while your mind goes droopy at the sight of his lips moving. “You can either go to your new life or listen. Are you gonna listen?”
You nod your head.
“Good. I’m gonna pull my hand away now and you won’t spit at my face again. Promise?”
You nod hesitantly.
“Good. I trust your word.”
He pulls his hand away, keeping his arm around you. It lies exactly over your tits, rubbing against your nipples. You know for a fact that he is able to feel it. You curl your fingers, trying so hard not to get affected by his closeness. Or to make a sound for that matter.
“I said this stuff to you because I wanna make it right between us. Your brother fucked up, but what Urquard did in retaliation is crazy and what father allowed is insane. If you want me to, I won’t bring you to him.”
“What? But…your father promised.”
“I don’t care. It’s barbaric that omega trading is still a thing. You are right, you are people not cattle.”
“If he finds out that you refuse, he will disown you.”
“I have a plan for that.”
“Urquard will kill you.”
“That’s why I have a plan.”
“What plan?”
“It’s gonna sound insane.”
“Just tell me please. I don’t wanna be sold.”
“The only way I can free you of this pact is if you get marked by another alpha. You’re unclaimed right now, but if you were to be marked by an alpha other than Urquard’s son, then the pact would be invalid.”
“What do you mean with marked?”
He hesitates.
“Tell me.”
“An alpha would have to put his dick into you.”
“So assault? I would have to be assaulted?”
“Not if you wanted it.”
“Huh?”
“Not if it’s with someone you trust. Someone who’s gonna be careful and gentle and who’s gonna make it nice for you.”
“And who should that be? Last time I checked, I’m not really friends with many…”
Your eyes meet Jungkook’s. He seems shy all of a sudden.
“Oh.”
You gasp for air.
“Oh.”
“I know it’s crazy. I thought of other ways. I’ve been plotting ever since we left town. That’s why I volunteered. To give us time, to give me time to think of something. I thought of lots of stuff, but they all ended in hypothetical death or enslavement of our pack. The only peaceful option was this.”
“You volunteered to bring me?”
He nods his head, “anyone else would have been too scared of or too loyal to my dad. I know you’re scared, but I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”
“And you thought of this?”
“It’s the only way. We kill Urquard and his sons? Their pack comes after us. We run away? Their pack is gonna punish our pack. We kill everyone? Impossible we’d die and destine our pack to agony. It’s only death and pain u-unless you get marked by an alpha.”
“But I would have to be with you afterwards.”
“Only if you want to. We can pretend, make everyone think that it’s real. You wouldn’t have to be with me ever again.”
“Oh my god, this is insane.”
“I know. I’m sorry. The choice is yours. I promise.”
You study his face. You are still trapped under him, sharing heat. Skin against skin. arm against chest and cock against hip. He is semi hard by now, smearing slick on your skin. The fact that he is affected by this - by you - doesn’t make it easier to stay calm. You are glad for his leg over yours because it forces your legs to be closed and therefore hide the masses of slick having accumulated by now. His hair is still damp, hanging into his face messily. His fingers feel so strong and protective around your wrists. You swear that each time he breathes out and you inhale it, you feel high. You are so attracted to him right now.
Truth be told, you always thought that he was handsome beyond comparison. He has a mesmerizing aura and a captivating smile. His physique is your dream physique and his face often caught your attention in a crowd. You were utterly and insanely attracted to him which made your hatred for him grow deeper. He betrayed you, but he is still haunting your thoughts. It was unbearable until right now.
“I’m scared. I never did it with an alpha before”, you confess, suddenly feeling so vulnerable.
And Jungkook takes that vulnerability, cradling it in his safe palm just as he cradles your cheek the same way. His eyes softened, his voice did too.
“Don’t be scared. I’ll be gentle. I promise”, he almost whispers the words, tracing your brow and temple between cradling your cheek.
“I don’t know you like that.”
“Neither do I you. It’s gonna be a one time thing.”
“I’m scared. I’ve been scared ever since all of this started.”
“Don’t be. I’m here. I won’t let them touch you.”
“But you’ll touch me?” you ask in a whisper, lifting the inner corners of your brows.
Jungkook has a hard time staying calm when you look at him with such puppy eyes.
“If you let me, I will.”
You exhale shakily, squirming under him.
“I’m scared.”
He lets go of your wrists to cradle your other cheek. You lean into the touch, barely wanting to keep your eyes open. Your arms stay in their submissive position naturally.
“Just the tip. That’s all it takes. Just the tip for a few seconds so you take on my scent and then it’ll be over”, he says.
“Just the tip?”
“Yes, just the tip. Nothing more. I promise.”
You are going to do something which you thought never to do. But if it saves your life, you would do anything. Even something as crazy as allow Jungkook to stick his tip into you.
“Okay. Just the tip.”
Jungkook exhales shakily, moving closer for a kiss like it was instinct before he stops himself. You shudder, craving nothing more than what he denies both of you.
“We shouldn’t be doing this”, he breathes.
“What?”
“Kiss.” He lets the word dance over your lips, running his thumb under your lips as his eyes stare. “We shouldn’t.”
“No, we shouldn’t”, you whimper, chasing him.
Moments of craving and yearning where both of you try so hard to kiss the other. But you shouldn’t. Just the tip, nothing more.
“Roll to your side, please”, Jungkook breaks the electric silence, guiding you with his hand on your shoulder until your back faces his chest.
You can see the fire and the rest of the shed like this, but not Jungkook.
“Why like this?”
“If I look at your face, I’ll stick it in completely. I can’t do this to you.”
“Oh.”
Jungkook closes the distance, connecting his hand with your hip. He guides it up your body, travelling along your waist and arm. His touch leaves goosebumps where it goes. His palm is slightly calloused from fighting but incredibly tender in how it touches you. You feel yourself breathe heavier and heavier the longer he touches you.
He reaches your shoulder, closing the last of the distance by lowering his lips to your back.
“Ah”, you let out quietly, tensing up. Your eyes are widened comically big, staring into the bright flames. He is kissing your naked skin. What the fuck.
Jungkook’s eyes are closed in contrast. His head is foggy, but he tries to fight these feelings. You smell so good that it is very difficult to do so.
His hand is still on your shoulder at first but moves to your waist when he guides his kisses to said shoulder.
“Oh god”, you whisper, sighing afterwards.
Jungkook feels droopy from the sound, digging his fingers into the softness of your side. He shouldn’t be doing this. Just the tip. That’s what he said. And yet here he is, kissing your soft skin as if it was his right to do so. He shouldn’t be doing this, but he can’t stop. He traces and holds your side and stomach, telling himself that he only does it to relax you. He kisses every inch of your exposed back and shoulder, telling himself that he only does it to calm you down. When in truth he does all of this because he wants to make it nice for you. And maybe he wants to be a source of tenderness after what you had to go through.
Lies. These are still lies. He fucking does this because he wants to. He fucking does it because he wants to know how it is to touch you. Taehyung talked when you and he were high school sweethearts. Oh, Taehyung talked and Jungkook had to listen and secretly seethe with jealousy. It should be him, he thought back then, he would know how to treat you right.
You had no idea of these thoughts. You still haven’t as you lie here next to the warm fire while Jungkook touches you oh so carefully. You don’t know if you’re allowed to close your eyes. Just the tip, you agreed on. Can you close your eyes for that?
But it feels so good. His lips are soft, while his piercings are hard in contrast. His touch is currently dancing up the middle of your torso slowly. You fight the shivers wanting to run through you.
You lose the fight a moment later when he pulls you against his strong chest and kisses your neck.
You whimper, trembling like crazy. You arch into him, craning your neck to give him more of it. Your heart skips beats under his lips. Jungkook grips the blanket to stop his hand from cradling your tits.
“Fuck, I shouldn’t be doing this”, he presses out under his breath, mouthing at your neck hungrily. “I shouldn’t….do…this.”
He drags his lips to your jawline and sucks. Your eyes close.
You mewl, rolling your hips back into him. His cock slides between your legs, rubbing between your puffy folds. He trembles in shock, gripping your hip to stop your wiggles.
“Don’t do this. Don’t act like this when it is supposed to mean nothing.”
“I’m sorry, I can’t help it.”
“Mhhm I know. You can’t, but I can. I won’t do it again, I’m sorry.”
You swallow your begs, not wanting to appear weak or desperate. It is so difficult not to beg when you have his cock between your legs. Hugged by your folds and exchanging slick. He feels hot and his veins are pulsing desperately. You have never before felt so stupidly horny than you do right now. Quite frankly, he might be forcing you to go into impromptu heat if he keeps being like this.
“Just the tip, yeah? Just the tip”, he whispers as he puts his arm under your head so you have something comfortable to rest on. You practically melt into him, biting back tears. You are being held and it feels so good. So safe and warm.
He kisses your neck and cheek, whispering his words.
“Are you comfortable? Are you ready?”
“Yeah”, you sigh, pushing your hips back.
Jungkook slides his other hand between your bodies, using it to align his cock with your dripping entrance. Just the tip, he reminds himself, nothing more. Don’t be greedy, keep calm. This doesn’t mean anything.
“Last chance”, he says, wanting to stall time so he can calm down.
“I trust you.”
Jungkook bites back his moan, having to take a deep breath before he can act. You are messing him up without knowing. With a racing pulse, he applies pressure on your puffy cunt and slips inside.
You squeak, shaking against your will. You convulse around him, gasping repeatedly. He went in so easily, despite his size.
Jungkook growls, “fuck, holy fuck”, he gets out and bruises your hip as he grips it for support. It takes everything inside him not to push it all the way in. Jungkook genuinely has a hard time not to moan. You are so wet.
Judging from your tremors and the way you fight for air, it is just as difficult for you.
“Only a few more second”, he forces his voice to sound as normal as possible. He wants to fuck you, but knows that he shouldn’t.
“Mh-hm”, you squeak out, nodding your head. You want him to fuck you.
Jungkook closes his hand to a fist, growing his claws to dig them into his own palm. The pain keeps him from acting up. He wouldn’t be able to handle it otherwise.
Jungkook always hoped that he would marry you one day. There it is. It’s out there. Jungkook had feelings for you for decades. In his dreams, you marry him and he can spend the rest of his days spoiling you rotten. He would be your protector against any danger, your best friend to laugh with, your remedy for your heats and the lover you can be yourself with.
Being with you like this is everything he ever wished for. You are so soft and warm around him, your slick is so wet. He knows that, deeper inside, it would be so much more. You'd be so warm, so soft. Jungkook gulps down his desire for more, otherwise he would do things he would regret.
“I think it should be good”, he presses out. He can’t do it anymore. One more second and he would push in all the way. He can’t do this to you. You trust him and he can’t abuse this trust.
“Really?”
You turn your head, looking up at him in droopy devotion. Jungkook whimpers, instantly cradling your cheek. He furrows his brows, throbbing inside you. He fights the urge to kiss you, to rest his forehead against yours, to bury himself deep inside you.
“Please don’t look at me.”
“Jungkook.”
His name hasn’t rolled off your tongue ever since he left you at the playground. It almost brings tears to his eyes, forcing his arm around you tighter.
“I can’t do this”, he drops his forehead against yours “I think I remembered that I need to put in all of it. It’s not gonna work otherwise.”
He is lying, because he can’t accept the truth yet. That he is selfish and totally addicted to you.
“Please do.”
“No. No we shouldn’t be doing this”, he fights it still, shaking his head which makes his nose rub against yours.
“Please”, your words tickle his lips, “save me. Whatever it takes, save me.”
“Urgh”, he growls through gritted teeth.
“Please.”
Jungkook lifts his head. He wants to look into your eyes as he does it. He wants to see the utter bliss in your eyes as he turns your relationship status from ex childhood best friends to two adults reunited.
He rolls his hips, feeding your warmth his length inch by inch. Your brows furrow and lift, your lids flutter, your mouth falls open.
“A-ah”, you squeak out.
“Shhh, it’s okay. I’m here. I’m all here”, he whispers. He closes his arm around you, cradling you in a gentle headlock.
You close your fingers around his lower arm, spilling tears from your eyes.
“Does it hurt?”
You shake your head.
“But?”
“So…filled out. So big.”
“I know. I’m big, but you’re taking me so well.”
You whimper. Jungkook feels so insanely protective over you right now.
“Yes, you are. Taking me so well”, he insists, brushing the back of his hand down your cheek.
Jungkook continues until he bottoms out. He shudders, choking down a whimper. You feel so good. He never ever felt like this before. It feels like coming home which is insane because he was never with you like this.
“___”, your name comes out of him against his will.
“Jungkook”, you answer him, clenching around him.
“Stay still, please.”
“Okay”, you whimper, looking at his lips.
The pull is magnetic. Jungkook draws closer with parted lips, you meet him with parted lips. Once you kiss, it will be over for you and him. There will be no coming back from this.
“No”, he croaks, putting his hand over your mouth. The headlock tightens like this, giving you such a sense of being protected that your walls clench against your will.
“We shouldn’t kiss. Never”, he rasps weakly, mouthing at his own hand right where your lips lie beneath. You close your eyes, trying to move your lips under his hand. It is starting to feel cruel to be denied his kiss. Especially when memories of your past come back to you.
You remember that it was a group of eight kids and you were doing “dares” to see who is the coolest. Taehyung was dared to prank call his mom and he actually did. He pretended to be a grown up insurance clerk and once he hung up, you really thought that he managed to prank his mom (he didn’t hide his phone number and had a childlike voice). Jimin, another friend, was dared to climb a tree. Which he did and he was sooo cool for it. They were silly, childish dares who did no harm but made you feel so cool. Then it came to you and you were dared to kiss Jungkook. Which you did. In a childlike, innocent way but which made you and him feel so grown up for a moment.
The memory is haunting you right now, making you want to redo it in a grown up, mature way. You open your eyes, meeting Jungkook’s gaze. Judging from the foggy desperation in them, he is haunted by the same memory.
“Please get out of my head”, he gets out.
You whimper his name behind his hand. Jungkook furrows his brows, grinding his teeth.
“No please. Stop it”, he croaks, squeezing his eyes shut.
You want to fight it as well, of course you do. You swore to hate him forever and now you want nothing else than his kiss. You want to fight it, but your hands move against your will. They rest themselves over Jungkook’s hand and try to dig between your face and his palm.
He growls, huffing out air. The only thing keeping your hips from joining the impossible fight is his hand on it. Shit, now he is concentrating on down below. Your puffy walls around him, so soft and warm. Being inside you, Jungkook swears he will never be cold again. Or maybe he will be, maybe he will never find warmth again once this stops, once he has to slip out and pretend that it meant nothing.
What will happen afterwards? He is so needy and he knows that you are too. What will happen? Are you going to lie next to each other, wet and needy and force your bodies to calm down? Or maybe he will need to excuse himself to outside, fuck his own fist as the loud thunder masks his desperate moans while inside the shed you most definitely would touch yourself as well?
Jungkook was so lost in his haunted thoughts that he realises too late that you managed to tug his hand away. Your lips brush his’.
Jungkook moans from the bottom of his heart, going in for more at first. He even rolls his hips into you. Like instinct. Like it is meant to happen.
“No”, he pushes you away, slips out, breaks the moment. “We shouldn’t be doing this. Not that far.”
You sob, shrinking into yourself.
“Please”, you whimper your words, staring at him with desperate, sad eyes. You lift your hips, begging him silently.
“I won’t be able to stop if I do it again. I can’t do this to you.”
“Please”, you beg.
“Do you even know what an alpha does when he fucks? I won’t be able to stop until I bred you. I-I’ll knot you and, and you won’t be able to get me out until I’m soft again.”
“I know.”
“This could take hours. You will feel out of control and vulnerable.”
“You said that you will protect me. That I-I’m safe with you.”
“___”, he chokes out and crawls to you. He picks you up in his strong arms, holding you against his chest. His heart is racing like crazy against your back. “Stop me. I beg you. I can’t pretend any longer that this means nothing to me. You have to stop this.”
You reach up and twist his hair, pulling him down to you.
“We shouldn’t-”
You silence him with a kiss.
Jungkook trembles, resting his weight against you as the kiss renders his body useless for a moment. You are kissing him. You stopped this stupid farce for you and him. You sealed your fates. Jungkook knows that it won’t be the same after tonight. He will never fucking give you up.
He breaks the kiss, but stay close.
“You shouldn’t have done this.”
“Please. More.”
“Are you even hearing me?” he hisses.
“Yes. Please, more.”
“Fuck, we really shouldn’t, but maybe I…I have to move it a few times? To really mark you?”
“Yes, sounds good, mark me please. I don’t wanna be sold.”
“I-I’ll do it just for that. To make sure.”
“Yes. Okay”, you sigh and melt into him, lifting your leg.
Jungkook slides his hand under it instantly.
“Let me do it. Relax.”
You let your muscles relax, allowing him to carry your leg’s weight. He does it so easily, tracing your hairline with his fingertips as he looks down at you. He moves his hips so his cock would slip between your folds, working you up to what was coming by grinding back and forth. He really drags out the movements, sending trembles through your legs each time his thick tip rubs your swollen clit.
He exhales shakily, whispering his thoughts.
“You’re so wet. I have never felt slick so warm and, and wet before.”
You look up at him with shy, nervous puppy eyes, making him want to protect you forever.
“Is it bad?”
“No, fuck no”, he puts his arm around your chest, pulling you up to him until he can rest his forehead against yours. “It’s perfect, baby.”
“Baby?”
“I…” he drops you, hips stilling in shock. He doesn’t know what to say. Anything he could say feels like too little of an apology.
You however increase the lethalness of your puppy eyes, reaching down to try and move his hips again.
“Please. More.”
“We’re only doing this to save you, right?” He asks, picking up a rhythm again. It is the same as before but way more arousing because he purposefully makes sure that his tip slips into you every now and then. He starts off with just a little poke, increasing the inches more and more. But it stays just the tip, for now, don’t be mistaken. If he slips inside it should happen accidentally. He likes to tell himself if it happens like this, it will mean that it wasn’t his fault.
“Yes, only to save me” you lull your words, getting droopier and droopier. Each time he has his tip inside you, it feels so good. Before he slips out and you feel sad, until of course he drags his cock over your clit instead.
You can’t do this for long anymore and Jungkook seems to share your feelings. The tip he buries in you starts to go way past your entrance and it seems to stay longer inside. His golden eyes never break contact, his fingers rub your arm as he holds you so close.
He slips into you again. So deep.
“Mhhhhm” he lets out in a rumble, furrowing his brows.
You whimper, lifting your brows.
Deeper. Deeper. Deeper. He won’t be able to escape like this.
Deeper.
He bottoms out.
You moan, eyelids fluttering and lips chasing his kiss.
He shakes his head, talking as he falls into the kiss.
“We really shouldn’t be doing this.”
You kiss and Jungkook’s cock doesn’t leave you again. It stays buried deep inside you, reshaping your walls as his hips move. Slowly for now, daring not to be too rough with you. Because being rough makes it real. Maybe if he keeps his movements tiny enough, it will still count as being nothing of importance.
Because that’s what this is, right? Something that doesn’t mean anything, something that won’t change who you and he are. This is what those needy, hungry tongue kisses mean, this is what the desperate touches mean, this is what the exchanging of warm slick means. Nothing. Because if those things meant something, it would force Jungkook to admit that he is doing This for himself. Of course he does it to save you, but if it meant something, he would have to admit that he is also doing this for himself.
But it doesn’t mean anything, right? Right?
You break the kiss for air, looking up at him submissively and droopy.
“It feels so good”, you whisper.
“Close your eyes, please.”
You obey and Jungkook has to come to the realisation that it makes no difference. This fucking means something. Holy fuck, he is done for.
“Maybe I have to make you cum?”
“What?” you ask, eyes still closed.
“I think I need to make you cum once. Then you’ll be marked.”
“Please do. I trust you.”
Trust. He thought that he would never earn it again and yet here he is. With your weakened, trembling body in his hold as you trust him to take good care of you.
“Mhhm shit”, he presses out, biting down on his own tongue to calm himself. Be tender with her, he thinks, you swore to be a gentle alpha so fucking get it together.
He moves you into another position, draping your leg over his hip so you wouldn’t have to use your muscles. You are so open and spread like this, allowing his big cock entrance. He slides his hand to your clit and takes it between his thumb and middle finger to massage it.
“A-ha”, you let out, arching your back and lifting your hips.
“Ssssh, relax. I’m here.”
“Please, deeper.”
Jungkook buries his cock deep inside you and stays there, circling his hips. He is so big and long that he stimulates both your g-spot and your cervix. He is so gentle that it doesn’t hurt. It just feels so good that your fangs grow against your will and you leak masses of new slick.
“Like this? Am I making it nice for you?”
“So nice”, you mewl, nodding your head vigorously.
Jungkook is gazing at you as it happens. He watches every change of expression on your face, fighting the urge to call you beautiful. Because that’s what you are. Beautiful. You would deserve to know but he is scared of the consequences. It would mean the fluttering of his heart is real.
“Is so nice”, you sigh, writhing happily. It breaks him.
“You’re beautiful”, he says, moaning softly when you tighten and arch your back. So you liked it. His cock throbs inside you, leaking into you needily. “Yeah that’s right, you’re beautiful. So fucking beautiful. Taking me so well, feeling so good on my cock.”
“Ah, aaaah”, your moans are so loud, your pussy so fucking wet and your clit so swollen.
Jungkook fucks you gently, massaging your spot of pleasure with his long, skilled fingers. He can feel your heartbeat in your back, as much as he can feel you rub against his nipples.
The blanket over your bodies is so hot, making you and him sweat wherever you are touching. He can’t deny it anymore that this is real, that this means something. This means fucking everything to him.
“You’re such a good omega, taking me so well.”
“You’re making me cum”, you croak, grasping his arm for support, “please, can I cum?”
“Yes, baby. You can. Cum for me.”
“Jungkook”, you gasp, ripping your eyes open to stare in shock as his gentle touches bring you over the edge.
Your eyes flicker golden, you moan silently with an open mouth.
“That’s it, cum for your alpha. Let me mark you, that’s it.”
He has a hard time saying these words to you. His thoughts are running wild. This is the face you make when you have an orgasm. Never in his wildest dreams could he have imagined this to be a face he gets to see. And it’s so beautiful that he treads the moment your high stops and he has to pull out. He doesn’t want to pull out. He needs more of you. He needs you like fucking crazy.
“More please”, and then your beg releases him. You are down from your high, yet still so hungry for more. You feel so fulfilled with him that you don’t want this to stop.
“What?” he croaks.
“More please, more.”
“If I do this, I won’t stop until I cum too.”
“I know.”
“Maybe you’re right. Maybe I have to cum inside you to mark you?”
“Yeah, maybe.”
The pretend continues. The fucking charades that this is only to save you from your fate, that you and he aren’t doing this because it feels so good to both of you.
“Please Jungkook, fuck me properly.”
“Are you sure?” he almost squeaks the words because he has such a hard time controlling his urges.
“Yes. Please.”
“Holy fuck. ___ urgh.”
Your needy beg does the rest. His animalistic instincts take over.
Jungkook growls, grabbing you roughly to flip you onto your stomach and therefore pin you down. He straddles you from behind. His right hand slips to the back of your head, his left hand has a possessive grip on your hip. His legs cage in your legs, keeping them squeezed together as he drills his thick cock into your pussy. You are so tight like this, jerking him off in such a maddening way.
You scream up as you didn’t expect him to take on such a punishing pace instantly, but you aren’t complaining. It feels so good to take him. He fucks you so well. His cock is so filling, making you feel whole.
“I’m not holding back now. For you, just for you. Is this good for you? Do you like this?”, he growls through gritted fangs, shifting his eyes between your face and his cock.
“Yeaa”, you sob, clawing at the ground helplessly. You were aware that Jungkook has been an adult for years, but this is still changing how you see him. Whenever you thought of him, you saw that twelve year old boy calling you immature for playing. That boy is gone as if he never existed. Jungkook is a fucking adult and he is rewriting the image in your mind one heavy stroke at a time.
“You should have never seen me like this. Fuck, this shouldn’t happen”, Jungkook spits, high on your body. He is embarrassed by his actions, but can’t stop them. “But I can’t stop. Holy fuck, I need you so fucking bad.” He needs to fuck you. You are so small and weak right now, so goddamn vulnerable. Once so unclaimed until he took you.
You are his.
Jungkook growls, pinning you harder into the ground.
You are his.
You reach behind yourself because his hand on your head hurts. He grabs your wrist instantly, using it to pin your arm against your back. You wail up, kicking the ground as best as possible as you writhe in your imprisonment.
“I’m sorry. You shouldn’t see me like this. Not you. I’m sorry.”
He apologises, knowing that he won’t be able to stop until you are claimed. The thought makes him crazy. He is claiming you. The girl who was his first kiss, his best friend who always came to him when she needed help, the woman who counts on him to protect her from her fate and the wife he always hoped to have one day. And he is claiming her. He is marking her, making you his for anyone to smell.
Jungkook drills you harder. He pulls out all the way to his tip just to thrust into you sloppily. He does it over and over again, reminding your dripping pussy of his size with each possessive thrust.
And you take it with grateful sobs, existing only for him right now. You would never recover if he stopped right now. You need him to finish what he started even if it ruins you in the process.
“We really shouldn’t be doing this, fuck, this shouldn’t happen”, Jungkook gets out, gawking at where he buries himself in you.
Your slick is slowly taking on a milky colour from the intense friction. It sticks to his veiny shaft and his dark pubes, smearing all over your ass and his thighs as well.
If this shouldn’t happen, why does it feel so good? If this shouldn’t happen, why does it look so hot? If this shouldn’t happen, why does he not want to stop?
Jungkook scrunches his face in anger. He lets go of your arm so he can grip your hips with both hands. He pulls them up until you are kneeling. Your face is still buried in the ground, your back is arched.
You shake and convulse instantly, sobbing in embarrassment because the open position of your legs forces your slick to run out of you.
“Holy fuck”, he gets out, staring at it with blown out pupils, “holy fuck, ___.”
“I’m sorry, please don’t judge me”, you beg, trying so hard to keep it inside with clenches around his cock.
“Never. Holy fuck, I could never.”
“I’m so embarrassed.”
“Don’t be. Relax, baby. Don’t fight it”, he says, knowing that you and he shouldn’t be doing this.
You obey instinctively. You relax around him, releasing the slick you so desperately wanted to hide from him. It begins squirting out of you messily and audibly, marking him yours.
“Yes”, he growls and begins pulling your hips onto his cock possessively, thrusting into you at the same time. He does it with one hand because the other he slips between your legs to pinch your clit. Gently of course, keeping her between two fingers to massage her in circular motions.
“Let me help you.”
You wail and shake, releasing more and more of your pretty slick. It runs down your thighs, covers his legs, smears all over your ass and his stomach.
“Relax, that’s it. My pretty omega shouldn’t keep it inside. It’s not good for you.”
“Jungkook, I can’t do this”, you sob.
“I know. We can’t do this, we never should have.”
“No”, you wail, “no. I have to cum again.”
“Whenever you want to. Your alpha’s right here, baby.”
“Jungkook!” you scream, breaking apart as if you never orgasmed before. It feels so good.
“Holy fuck baby, ah!” Jungkook yelps, hips stuttering in shock, “you feel so good, what the fuck ah! Ah! I can’t control myself. Baby!”
Jungkook growls and lays himself over you. He holds you up with one hand around you, biting down on your shoulder as his body breaks. You sob from the pain of the bite, loving every second of it.
And then it hits you.
His seed.
His thick, hot seed.
It shoots out of him with such strength that you feel punched in the gut. The effect is instant. You lose control over yourself. Quite literally, you lose control. You can still talk, using it to scream his name as you orgasm in a way you have never experienced before.
The first one was intense but familiar. This right now? You didn’t even know that your body could feel this way. It is truly, seriously, religious. It is as if you finally found your purpose in life. And in a sense you did. You found your alpha. He finally claimed you properly. You are his’. You aren’t unclaimed anymore. Nobody ever educated on this, so you have no idea that these religious, soul fulfilling feelings mean that you changed forever, but you don’t mind right now. You are just riding on these feelings, screaming his name and milking him dry.
Jungkook whimpers. He truly, honestly whimpers from the bottom of his heart, collapsing on top of you. He knocks you into the ground like that, burying you under his weight but he couldn’t stop it from happening.
He never experienced this feeling either. He had sex with people, but it never felt like This before. He orgasmed in them but it never felt like this. It feels as if his seed finally has purpose. That’s how it feels. Like his efforts and all the rutting he is doing has fucking purpose.
And then it happens. Something that he was only told could happen to him, finally happens to him. His knot swells. He actually fucking grows a knot and has to writhe on top of you, burying his nose deep in your hair as he sobs your name.
You sob as well, insides suddenly feeling like bursting. His knot is so big and thick that it should feel like an intruder but it doesn’t. It feels like the best drug ever. You didn’t even know that you could stretch this far. The amount of stimulation it gives you as it rubs against your walls is otherworldly, making you chase one orgasm after the other.
“I don’t know what’s happening to me. Ah! ___!” Jungkook yelps, having to orgasm again as your tight walls stimulate his knot. The amount of sensitivity he feels on it is insane.
His hands slide together with yours, holding them tightly as he pins them into the ground. His tears fall into your hair, your own tears soak the blanket.
“I can’t stop”, you get out, shaking in fear, “I can’t stop cumming!”
“Me neither.”
“I’m scared. I’m so scared”, you sob, riding on the unfamiliar, scary sensations.
“Don’t be scared, I’m here. I’m here”, he talks you through it, shaking beyond saving.
You aren’t even moving much. There are no thrusts, no sloppy wiggles. Just and you and him, actually stuck together because of his knot while he pumps one cumshot after the other into you. There is no movement and yet it feels better than the most passionate rutting session you each had. No movement and yet you are fulfilled beyond comparison. Is this how it feels to find your mate? Is this what it is?
Did “we shouldn’t be doing this” turn into the finding of your other half? Was “we shouldn’t be doing this” fate’s way of protecting you from what will happen once you gave in? Or was there ever a “we shouldn’t be doing this” strong enough that could have prevented you from doing this?
Whatever it might be, it is too late to think about the what ifs now. The reality is that you and he can’t stop climaxing, lost in the most addicting and intense pleasure you and he ever found yourselves in. It is never ending. When he climaxes, you have to too which sets him off again, triggering your need to as well. It is a vicious, never ending, orgasmic cycle.
“This feels so good”, he croaks out, writhing on top of you, “does it feel-”
“Yes! Yes! Oh god please Kook not again. Kook!”
“Kook”, Jungkook repeats the nickname in a whimper, curling his toes as another orgasm hits him as well. He never thought to hear this name from you again. He can’t handle it any other way than filling you with more of him.
There is so much of him inside you by now, having no way to escape because of his knot that your body reacts in the only way it knows how to survive. It opens up for his seed to go deeper. It trickles into the deepest parts of your sex organs, warming you from the inside out. It is like he is alive inside you, feeding you with the strongest drug you ever took. You think that you black out for a moment. You are still aware of what is happening to you, but it is hidden behind a thick layer of blurriness.
“Eh”, you let out, falling into the darkness gladly. It feels so good to do. There is something because you are aware of your orgasm, but there is also nothing. It is as if you are standing next to your body, watching it shake and tremble as he makes a home inside you.
And then there is nothing. Truly nothing. No more orgasmic pleasure, no more watching yourself. Just darkness.
“___? Hey, ___? Holy fuck, what’s wrong with you? ___, open your eyes please”, Jungkook’s distraught voice comes closer and closer, his hand on your face becomes clearer and clearer, “please ___, open your eyes, please. Oh god, what have I done? I should never have done this. I- Oh god ___ please, I’m sorry. Wake up, please.”
He shakes your head gently. It brings you back to reality. Your body regains the ability to feel.
“Jungkook”, you whimper, opening your eyes. You writhe instantly, throbbing around his knot happily.
“___ hey. Holy fuck, thank god. Hey”, he says, dropping his forehead against your temple and kissing the side of your face desperately, “I’m so glad that you’re back. I thought that I killed you.”
“No, just made me black out.”
“Why? Does it hurt? Are you in lots of pain?”
“No, just haven’t felt so good before. Ever. Kook, I”, you suddenly have to whimper your words, “I feel your cum inside my uterus. It’s so warm and alive and….right.”
“It is?” He whimpers as well, feeling weakened in emotion.
You nod your head. Jungkook sobs quietly, using the hold he has on your hand to guide your arm under your body and against your chest. Like this, he rolls your bodies to their sides, instantly cradling you against his chest while his trembling lips kiss any part of you that he can reach.
Your face, your neck, your shoulder, your arm, your back and the bite mark he left, your face again. Over and over he kisses each inch of you, whispering your name every now and then as if he is trying to make sure that he remembers who made him feel like this. As if he is trying to make his brain memorise who it was who made him experience his first knot.
He is still swollen, keeping everything inside you safely. It is still so intense, but suddenly it feels more emotionally intense than physically. Enough time must have passed for the fire to reduce the logs by lot. And all of a sudden you and he don’t feel the uncontrollable need to orgasm anymore. You still want to be close, moving your hips in emotionally needy wiggles in hopes of keeping his knot alive for as long as possible, but it is not to chase another orgasm. You want this to last because it feels so safe.
“I don’t know what’s happening to me. I don’t want this to end”, Jungkook confesses, holding you protectively.
“Me neither. I feel so safe like this.”
“Holy fuck, ___. What did we do?” he presses out, kissing your cheek over and over again.
“I don’t know.”
“I never knotted before. I never felt like this. Holy fuck, ___.”
“What is gonna happen to us now?”
“I don’t know. All I know is that I can’t let you go again. Ever. I don’t wanna fucking share you. Never. I’m trying so hard not to tell you that you’re mine ‘cause I promised you that this would never happen again.”
“Please don’t.”
“What?”
You turn your head, leaning deeper into his embrace. Like this, you feel his racing heart against your shoulder and you are entirely protected in his arms. His knotted cock throbs inside you as your eyes meet. The same playful, gentle boy of the past looks back at you, except that his once boyish features are mature and aged up. A gentle, adoring man stares back at you and you can’t seem to find your way out of his galaxy eyes.
“Please don’t promise me that this won’t happen again.” You cradle his cheek. “Don’t hold back on telling me that I’m yours.”
“You don’t know what you’re saying. You’re high from my cum, these aren’t your real feelings.”
“Why shouldn’t they be?”
“___, we-”
You put your thumb on his lips.
“We shouldn’t have done this, I know. You kept telling me as we kept doing this.”
Jungkook gives up in a sigh, having to chuckle afterwards. You giggle, cupping his cheek again.
“Just the tip. That’s what we agreed on. Just the tip”, he says.
You clench around his knot, touching your bloated stomach. You instantly guide his hand to it, wanting him to feel what he did to you. He purrs deeply, biting down on his lower lip. You grin goofily.
“Just the tip indeed.”
He laughs softly. You snicker and stub his nose with your own.
“This is the messiest and deepest tip I have ever given”, he jokes, making you laugh.
“Oh god, this was funny.”
“Mhm, I’m pretty funny”, he says and nuzzles his nose into your neck to tickle you gently.
You squeak and giggle, feeling happy beyond comparison. Jungkook ends his loving attack with kisses to your ear.
You sigh, melting into the affection. You and he lace fingers, using the position to melt closer.
Your droopy eyes stare into the flames while Jungkook relaxes you with soft kisses all over your neck, shoulder and back.
The thunderstorm stopped outside. It is already a little brighter. Fuck, so you were really trapped in this orgasmic state for a few hours. It felt as if so little time passed as it was happening.
“What is gonna happen now?” you whisper.
“Now? We’re gonna cuddle and I’ll be kissing you until you’re asleep.”
“I mean after that. Do we have to show Urquard that I’m claimed?”
“I guess. I haven’t thought that far into the future yet. But yes, he will probably want proof that you’re marked.”
“I’m scared. Do I have to get naked in front of him? And his pack? Will he put something in me to get a scent?”
“He can try if he wants to die.” Jungkook pulls you closer possessively. “You’re under my protection now. Okay? You won’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with and I’ll hunt down anyone who dares to overstep your boundaries. Even Urquard and his pack.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really. I promise you.”
You close your eyes, spilling tears.
“Thank you.”
You never thought it possible to have your dreams fulfilled by Jungkook and yet here you are. You are being held and comforted by Jungkook and it feels like home.
“Don’t thank me. You’re mine. My darling ___ to keep safe. You have my body to protect you and my heart to find a home in.”
There is deep rooted honesty in his words, but you are suddenly too sleepy to ask him what he meant by them. There will still be another time. This wasn’t just a one time thing after all.
#jungkook smut#jungkook fanfic#jungkook fanfiction#jungkook scenario#jungkook oneshot#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#dom!jungkook#werewolf!jungkook#alpha!jungkook#bts smut#bts fanfic#bts fanfiction#bts scenario#bts oneshot#bts x reader#bts x you#dom!bts#bangtan smut#bangtan fanfic#bangtan fanfiction#bangtan oneshot#bangtan scenario#bangtan x reader#bangtan x you#dom!bangtan#fanfic: kinktober24#fanfic: werewolf universe
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Hello,Do you have any tips for recovering from internet brain rot? It's like my patience has dried up and if there's a huge amount of text (even about topics I'm very interested in) that I have to read, I get annoyed and just don't interact with the material at all.
I have multiple tips!
TL;DR (Because of course I generated a wall of text): Take a break from the internet, create a schedule for getting yourself used to reading longer texts, take breaks while reading, and perhaps reconsider how you interact with The Internet and the world in general.
Here are the basic "to reduce the brain rot just don't interact" tips:
Take a break. Give yourself time off from The Internet (for these purposes The Internet is the social media industrial complex; clickbait news, recommended videos, social media sites, etc. You don't have to totally check out of email or your local news site, just get away from the huge time sucks). I'd say to take at least one day a week where you're online for less than an hour a day, and to maybe work up to doing a week-long break from whatever the main agents of rot are.
Once you've identified the main agents of rot, give yourself a time limit or set up rules for yourself. I don't let myself look at social media in bed, for instance; no staying up late on my phone, no scrolling before I get up and start my day. I don't give myself a strict time limit anymore, but for a while there I was very firm about "you only get to go online 4 hours a day" with myself.
Don't comment (or at least only share the things you really want to share). If you feel the need to argue, or if you feel pressured into sharing something, don't. Step back, maybe even open the post in a new tab or send it to yourself, and come back later. If you've been thinking about it and have decided it IS something you care enough to talk about, share it. If you look at the tab and feel stressed out or still feel reactive, close the tab and walk away.
Go out and interact with the real world in a non-work capacity for a few hours a week; take walks or go shopping or go out and take pictures of insects. Touch grass so that The Internet is not the only thing you're doing with your downtime.
Here are the "work on reading longer texts specifically" tips:
Set a reading goal for yourself. Maybe you want to read one New Yorker article a week, maybe you want to read all the way through news articles, maybe you want to read novels like you used to in high school. Figure out what your actual goal is and articulate that goal to yourself.
Set up a practice schedule and gradually increase the amount of time you're reading. Don't go from short tumblr posts to a novella, go from short tumblr posts to slightly longer news articles, then to slightly longer essays, then to a novella. You can do this in literal paragraphs if you want to - maybe your goal for your first day is to read five paragraphs in a row, and the second day is seven, and the third day is ten, etc, until you are comfortably reading for longer amounts of time without counting paragraphs. (Try this with books from gutenberg.org; read a classic you haven't read a few paragraphs at a time and if you find yourself going over your paragraph count, let yourself run with it. If you finish a book, good for you, find another one and start again.)
Set up a maintenance schedule. If your goal is to read longer news pieces, try to read a longer piece every week and try to read to the end of every news article you open. If your goal is to read novels or longer nonfiction, try to read a book a month (maybe setting aside dedicated time each week to read, maybe Thursday evenings are book time now). If you find yourself falling back into old habits, take a break from The Internet and do some more rigorous practice for a while.
If you find yourself getting frustrated while you are reading you can also take a break! Read until you get frustrated and then *instead of switching to a different page or closing the article* close your eyes or look out the window or away from the screen for thirty seconds (count 'em! count out the time in your head) and then continue reading. You can also take a longer pause and sit and think about why you're getting frustrated. Is it the subject matter? Is it just looking at this text for longer than a couple minutes (if you are experiencing FOMO because you're reading for another few minutes instead of scrolling, the harder tips at the bottom are going to be important to you)? Are you comfortable? Are you reading this text to procrastinate from something and the procrastination is making you nervous? Are you trying to read to the bottom of your dash and reading a long post is taking up more time than you want while scrolling? Are you bored? Genuinely and very seriously: are your eyes straining and does your head hurt (if this is the case when is the last time you had your eyes checked or your glasses prescription updated)?
Here are the much harder "examine yourself and reassess your reactions to things" tips:
Work on re-training your attention span.
Identify something that you enjoy and find deeply engaging, and schedule some dedicated time for that thing. Set a literal timer (it can be a short amount of time at first) and sit down and do the thing without switching to a different website or opening up an app on your phone. This can be re-reading or watching a couple episodes of a show you like or listening to your favorite album while you sit down and draw. What's important is to spend a longer time focusing on doing something you DO like before attempting to spend a longer time focusing on something you DON'T like.
When you're starting on things you DON'T like, start with things you mildly don't like, or that feel tedious but aren't actually unpleasant. One way I do this is by transcribing poetry; I look up poems that I connect to and I transcribe them into a notebook that I have for that purpose. I enjoy having the finished product, but I don't enjoy the process, so it takes some effort to stick with it. Maybe there is a boring book you have been trying to get through, maybe you need to detail your car, maybe you've been trying to take up embroidery - these are good things to make yourself pay attention to (having music or a podcast on can help, but avoid watching videos or opening social apps)
When you're okay at that kind of thing (doing something not actively unpleasant) work on your attention span for things you ACTIVELY don't like. I don't think you should be a masochist about this, but you should work on being okay with doing unpleasant things for a sustained period of time. All of us have to do unpleasant stuff sometimes, and it's better to be able to pay attention to it for an hour at a time than it is to put it off forever.
This leads into the next Big Tip which is:
Work on being less reactive
Find something that you dislike; I'm going to use conservative talk radio as my example.
Expose yourself to the disliked thing for short periods of time (under ten minutes, maybe under five minutes).
Work on moderating your emotions during the time spent exposed to the disliked thing. If it makes you angry, work on intellectualizing the anger without becoming agitated by it. If it makes you sad, work on accepting that sadness without letting it drag down your mood. This isn't precisely about becoming numb to stimuli, but it is about being more in control of how your emotional reactions impact you.
Analyze the disliked thing. Why does it make you angry? Is that on purpose by the creator of the thing? Would it make someone else angry in the same way? How would you explain the anger to a neutral third party?
Consider responding instead of reacting. Let's say you're seeing a lot of very sad and upsetting things online and it's making you sad and upsetting you. You re-share these things because you don't feel like there's anything else you can do or you get angry when you see people sharing incorrect information, perhaps you argue with people about this. Now try looking at the upsetting things through the lens of point number four. This has upset you; how has it upset you? And once you've thought about how it upset you and have articulated that to yourself, find out what you can DO. I cannot make conservative talk radio go off the air, but I can support the groups harmed by conservative talk radio; thus there is no point in me getting upset and angry about conservative talk radio when I could be helping the people they target instead.
And that gets us to the last big tip which is:
Ask yourself if you are spending your time in a way that is enjoyable and edifying.
We all have limited time in our days and limited time in our lives. If you are finding yourself frequently frustrated online, it's a good time to consider whether you want to be spending so much time online.
If you feel like The Internet has become a rat race in which you can't read more than a few paragraphs without getting frustrated, there's a good chance that not only are you spending too much time on The Internet, but you're also spending it on doing things that you don't particularly like.
A realization like yours, Anon, that you are getting frustrated with any longer texts, can actually be really helpful because it provides a good opportunity to look at what you're engaging with and consider the questions:
Is this something I enjoy?
Do I feel good when I do this thing?
And that's a great way to figure out how to get rid of things that are leading to your background frustration. Maybe that looks like paring down the list of blogs you follow, maybe that looks like unsubscribing from some youtubers and podcasts, maybe that looks like uninstalling apps, maybe that looks like blocking a whole bunch of people and terms on your socials.
I don't think that everything we do has to help us grow as a person or expand our consciousness or anything like that, but I do think it's important to prioritize doing things that you like and doing things that you feel good about.
Like, I'm not doing something *wrong* if I spend an afternoon on Youtube watching drama channels every once in a while, but if I come out of a few afternoons of watching youtube drama channels feeling restless and anxious and like I wasted my time - even if I enjoyed myself while I was watching - it's probably a good idea for me to take a break from drama channels and see if there's something I can do instead that will make me feel better.
ALSO, A NOTE:
You are an animal that requires significant enrichment in your enclosure.
Think about tigers. Tigers in captivity are going to be excited to get high-value treats for any reason. They will eat and enjoy the treats. But if a tiger in captivity is only given the treats and never given any other form of activity to engage with, it is not going to be a happy tiger. If you start putting their treats in a pumpkin or a puzzle feeder or giving them toys to play with, that is going to be a much happier tiger.
Please give your brain things to play with that are more than just treats (though it does need some treats!). Make yourself a happy tiger. Your brain need a puzzle feeder, not a treat button.
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Yandere Contained Monstrous Family
Thinking about being born into a monstrous family
You, a baby human lovingly in the arms of a vampire man and his werewolf husband
“Aw isn’t our little peony just perfect!”
“Another gorgeous cub, in our pack. Good job hon!”
“Thanks!”
Inside your opulent crib with a bone ladden mobile above you and the heads of two of your eldest siblings show
“They haven’t got nearly enough fur!” your moth brother says
Your basilisk sister scoffs,” Or any scales for that matter!”
Life is lovely for awhile
You’re the apple of everyone’s eye as the youngest of the family
But it’d be early on when you’d discover that wasn’t all that made you different
If they had been more careful perhaps you wouldn’t have discovered what the family hunts were all about
Chasing humans–creatures just like you–for sport
Who could blame 5-year-old you?
The school lessons you’d sneak to listen to always said to call the authorities if something was wrong
You can vaguely recall the events that followed your brain clearly walling off the memory out of guilt
Time has passed and you are a partially thriving adult
Able to support yourself and devote your time to your study of the mythical
In a movement that had recently come to light, plenty of creatures spoken about in folktales were appearing
And your place of work was housing them
Housing was a strong word
maybe detaining and experimenting were better
As part of the maintenance crew, your job is to upkeep the creatures by their specified scientists demands
Occasionally offering your observations about whatever habits they have when it comes to eating, cleaning, etc.
As someone who’s been working with the facility for a long time so long you may not remember when you’ve become the experienced lead of your department
But you do still interact with the creatures specifically the most high-priority or high-maintenance ones
And like any other, you’ll report for duty with the newly acquired vampire
Apparently, they’ve been talked about for their violence and intelligent ramblings
Claiming it was married to an earlier capture and the father of some others
So far it drained forty of your employees
So now it was time for you to come face to face with this menace
You’ll wave off the security guard as you come up to the window
“Your file says your name is Villar?
“GRAAGRH!!!”
“We won’t get very far if you keep lashing out like this. I’m in charge of making sure you eat, I suggest you get it in gear if you want to ever to see your husband again.”
At the mention of his husband the blonde vampire deflates
His black scleras morph into white
He tiredly rests his head against the silver bars despite the skin burning
“You…will let me see him?”
You tilt your head sympathetically,” If you can comply with some of our tests. It’ll be a lot easier to make it a necessity for you two to meet if you cease killing so much of our staff.”
He growls tearing himself from the bars to glare
“What do I have to do to see him?”
You smile flipping through your clipboard
“There’s three blood tests, four endurance tests, and intelligence quizzes for a start. That sound like a plan?”
The vampire reluctantly nods
You look back at the camera and begin to walk out
“Hey! What’s your name so I’ll know to tear your throat out if they lie to me?”
You smile again on your way out hushing the security guard
“I’m (Y/n). Pleasure meeting you Villar.”
The black-haired vampire loses his vitriol as he’s reminded of the little bundle he’s agonized over losing so long ago
“WAI–”
“Doctor (Y/n) your absolute genius has saved this company again.”
“I appreciate the thought, but I’m just someone trying to have a peaceful work environment.”
As planned you handle the older werewolf man
Violent, giant, and usually rotting in his corner
He hasn’t moved much until you got involved
*knock**knock*
“Hey bud, I’ve got good news for you.”
At the sound of your voice, the werewolf Rod is at the silver bars, practically grazing them as he gets as close as he can to your little window
“Hello (Y/n), have you been eating well today?”
“Sure did but I have an update about your husband.”
He stills but looks interested
“He’s going to work with us so he can see you.”
“That is…what you want?”
“Yes and for you to do the same.”
He stands tall for once, taking an unusual air of authority
“I refuse to do anything if my conditions are not met.”
“Even if it means not seeing him again?”
He growls and turns away from the window
“Look my Uncle is not going to let me go in alone for your tests. Even if you’ve been peaceful so far, he just doesn’t want to take that chance.”
He snarls at the mention of your uncle
“Fine. Then come in with twice as many guards but I will only agree if it’s you.”
You thank him for his time, “we’ll have to see what Uncle says.”
When you leave the werewolf man slinks back into his corner
You’ll have to negotiate with your uncle about the most prized pieces of his collection his facility
Not to count the latest editions claiming to be related to the vampire and werewolf
The real obsession starts because every member of the original family realizes just who you are
And using your job as a mediator to piece together how you managed to slip out of their grasp
When Villar and Rod finally meet they nuzzle and kiss each other as they whisper to one another
“That’s them! Isn’t it? Our baby’s okay!”
“I know, now we just have to take them far away from here.”
Thus chaos is bound to ensue as they balance escaping with their long-lost human child
With promises to pay back your abductor and all these scientists back ten-fold for the pain they’ve brought their little family
Part 2
#yandere x reader#yandere x you#lovelyyandereaddictionpoint#yanderexrea#yandere#yanderes#platonic yandere#platonic yandere x reader#platonic yanderes#yandere family#yandere platonic#yanderes x reader#yandere monster x reader#yandere monster#platonic yandere monster#yandere siblings#yandere writing#soft yandere#male yandere#yandere male#yandere x darling#ask me if you want#yandere original character#yandere oc#yandere original characters#yandere platonic ocs#yandere platonic x reader
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I’m not breaking any new ground here, but it’s obvious that the peak of novelty New Year’s Eve numerical eyewear was 2000-2009
10/10 for legibility, visibility, and typography
for years now, this industry has been stubbornly clinging to an idea that has become too cumbersome. if you will indulge me, I will now rate 2023’s new designs:
5/10 best I can say is “it gets the job done.” it does clearly read as 2023, but the typography is bad & the visibility leaves much to be desired.
2/10 happy 20?3, i guess. they started with a decent font, but these are illegible and everything about the eyehole placement sucks.
6/10 hear me out: this is an okay compromise. it’s a cop out, sure, but it’s a viable alternative. it satisfies the basic requirements of legibility, visibility, and typographical acceptability, yet it lacks all whimsy. this feels like when you don’t do a project the way the teacher intended but you pass anyway on a technicality. this isn’t school, though, so i’m failing this design.
1/10 come on, guys. if you’re going to use the top of the 2 as an eyehole, at least use a font with a more open design, perhaps something art deco. at least when you look in the mirror with those LEDs directly in your line of sight, you won’t notice how bad the glasses look.
7/10 now we’re getting somewhere. like the first design, it uses the 3 as the second eyehole but it does so without compromising the shape of the number. unfortunately, the lack of outlines does negatively affect legibility and there may be some visibility issues for the left eye.
9/10 this is as good as it’s gonna get, folks. an actual graphic designer was clearly involved here. the typography is appealing, the color works, visibility looks good. nicely done.
-1000000000000000/10 :(
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So High School | Kim Mingyu
pairing: fiancé!mingyu x pregnant!fem!reader
rating: fluff, mature
genre: non-idol au, slice of life, established relationship
summary: you and your fiancé haven't discussed the idea of you having children, but with your wedding approaching, the idea of starting a family with him has been on your mind.
warnings: please read ALL! contains smut! not much but a little! (!!!) some time skips, reader gets pregnant, planned pregnancy, reader's mom loves mingyu, reader deals with morning sickness (for my fellow emetophobics this may be triggering!), minwon coworkers mentioned, smut warnings: creampie, unprotected sex, multiple rounds mentioned, backshots, fingering.
word count: 3k
AHEM! go listen to so high school by taylor swift (perhaps while you read!)
author's note!: i listened to taylor waaaay too much while i was writing this, as you can probably tell by the title 🫣 what can i say! guilty. my first time writing slice of life au! i had fun lowkey. AGHHH i just love writing cute mingyu esp when it involves future dad mingyu. the song lyrics are meant to be spacers for the time-skips btw! shoutout to @jenoslutie for also supporting my vision with this 💋 muah xo
click here to join my taglist!
I feel so high school every time I look at you, I wanna find you in a crowd just to hide from you...
Mingyu was your dream man in many ways than one. The perfect boy to bring home to your parents, cooked delicious meals for you, and overall made you feel safe.
You two had been engaged for months now, and wedding planning was well underway, the date set for early into the new year. As if it wasn’t stressful enough, your mom had already started questioning whether the two of you had wanted children, or planned to in the future. The answer was always the same,
“Mom, I don’t know… we haven’t talked about it into a lot of detail… maybe later on…” or “C’mon, we’re still young, Mom!”
Mingyu didn’t know any of this, and you’d probably never tell him, not wanting him to feel pressured by your badgering mother. You both knew you wanted children eventually, but you never talked that far into the future.
But… you also thought… maybe you would want to have children, if it was with Mingyu.
Mingyu would be the father to play dress up and makeovers with your daughter, have tea parties with her, or play with faux tools with your son and pretend to fix things, and play with plastic dinosaurs.
You couldn't picture anybody that would be more perfect to do it with than him.
Are you gonna marry, kiss, or kill me? It's just a game, but really I'm bettin' on all three for us two...
Mingyu stands at the kitchen counter, cooking dinner like he usually does, and he usually insists since he gets home a little earlier from work than you do most days.
You come from the kitchen after changing out of your work clothes to see him chopping garlic as a pot is boiling on the stove.
“What are you making?”
“Agio e olio,” Mingyu responds, looking up to smile at you briefly. “I know it’s your favorite, and you said you were craving it.”
You smile, coming over to kiss him on the cheek quickly. “Thank you, you make it so good anyway.” You chuckle as he playfully rolls his eyes.
He tosses the garlic in a pan on the stove, stirring it a little, then adds the pasta to the boiling water.
You decide now is the time to break your silence, and tell him what’s been on your mind lately.
“Gyu,” You speak up. “… I think we should talk about something.”
“What?” Mingyu’s gaze turns to meet yours, a concerned look on his face, and you immediately want to kiss him and make it go away.
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“I’ve been thinking…” You pause, racking your brain on how to word what you’re about to tell him, also given that you didn’t want to scare him. “What do you think about us… having a baby?”
You look up at his undeniable surprised expression; after all you did come out of nowhere with that statement.
“I mean, I know we haven’t really discussed it much, and we’re getting married in a few months… but I have been thinking about it a lot, and I want to, we’re at that age-“ You break out into a nervous ramble before he cuts you off.
“I’ve thought about it too. I thought it should be something that we should…you know… talk about.” Mingyu says.
“I don’t want to put any pressure on you, or I guess, on us.” You continue. “I know we’re not married officially yet, and our wedding isn’t until a few more months, but I don’t know, I think I want to.”
Mingyu turns to you, smiling ear to ear in the adorable happy puppy way he typically does when he’s over the top excited about something. “I know, me too.”
“Does this mean… we’re trying?” You can’t even hide your smile, your cheeks hurt as you attempt to be the least bit nonchalant.
“Yeah… fuck… c’mere.” Mingyu pulls you closer to him, kissing you fervently.
You pull back, releasing his grip from your waist.
“Hey, after dinner,” You smirk, giggling at his eagerness. “You’re gonna burn your garlic.”
“Mingyu… I can’t, fuck-“ You whine, your face nearly buried into the pillow underneath you.
“Yeah you can baby…” Mingyu grunts, his hand slides up your back to push you down even more. “Taking it all like a good girl…”
You nearly collapse as you can barely hold yourself up anymore, and you’re being pushed forward almost to the headboard from the force of him behind you.
“I’m gonna come, ‘gyu.” You cry, your hand trailing down to rub tight circles on your clit, making your thighs tremble as you push yourself closer to the edge.
“Go on baby…” Mingyu groans, feeling you get tighter around him. “Cum all over my cock like a good girl.”
You cry his name again as he pushes you over the edge, white-knuckling the sheets as he keeps thrusting inside you, almost even harder.
“Fuck…” He groans as he slows down, stilling before he comes inside you.
He pulls out, watching himself drip out of you briefly as he curses under his breath, before he pushes it back inside you with two fingers, making you whine.
“Sorry, baby…” Mingyu sweetly apologizes.
You flip over on your back, pulling him down to kiss him.
“I wanna go again…” You say against his lips, pushing his sweaty long hair back.
“Really?” He asks sweetly, leaning down to kiss your neck a few times. “Wasn’t too much?”
“Never…”
Truth, dare, spin bottles, You know how to ball, I know Aristotle Brand new, full-throttle, Touch me while your bros play Grand Theft Auto...
The next few weeks were just the usual. Going into work during the day, shopping for the wedding with your sister, … Mingyu practically never leaving you alone, but that you wouldn’t complain about.
“What kind of flowers are you guys doing?” Your sister asks you. The two of you made plans to get coffee, and you guys typically talked about whatever. She always voiced her opinion on your life whether it was boyfriends, career moves, and now: your wedding.
“White lilies; one of my favorites. Mingyu said I could just pick what I wanted, he’s happy with whatever I choose.” You say.
“That’s sweet,” She smiles, stirring her matcha latte. “Even though, he probably doesn’t care.” She chuckles.
“You’re probably right, I think he has other things on his mind other than flowers.” You laugh, only you know what you mean by that.
You never told her the both of you had been trying to have a baby.
“I’ve always liked him, though, you know that.” She smiles. “If there’s anybody you marry and spend forever with, i'm glad it’s him. He’s just right for you.”
You smile, glancing down as your gaze flickers on your sparkling engagement ring under the coffee shop lights.
You’re definitely glad it’s him.
“Do you mind if we go into the grocery store down the street? I need to just run in and get a few things.” She asks you.
You nod. “Yeah, that’s fine. I could probably use a few things too.”
“How do you know if a watermelon is a really good one?” She asks you, as the fruit by the entrance catches her eye.
“You’re asking me?” You laugh. “I have no idea, I have heard though if they’re a dark green, it’s too watery.”
“You were always good at picking them, I know Mom used to always say that.” She replies. “Maybe I won’t get one, are they even in season?”
“Probably not, it’s November. Anyway, what did you need here?” You say, grabbing a hand basket for yourself.
“Just usual stuff, yogurt… eggs, oat milk, some strawberries… whatever else I find that I think i need.” She says, placing strawberries and avocados in her cart. Already straying from the list.
You follow her, bagging up some apples, cucumbers, and brussel sprouts into your basket.
You’re both wandering down the ice cream aisle, as you’re grabbing whatever pint of peanut butter ice cream you can find, when your sister speaks up.
“Oh! Let’s go to the hygiene section, I need to get some tampons. That time of the month soon.”
You pause, ice cream in hand, suddenly racking your brain trying to remember when the last time your period was. A few weeks ago? Last month? Were you supposed to get it? Were you late?
“Y/n…? What’s wrong? Everything okay?” She asks, seemingly able to read your inner monologue going on in your head.
“Y-yeah…” You reply, placing the ice cream in your basket, all while your heart is still racing. Was it joy? Nervousness? “It’s just… I can’t remember the last time I had my period…”
I'm watching American Pie with you on a Saturday night Your friends are around, so be quiet, I'm trying to stifle my sighs 'Cause I feel so high school, Every time I look at you...
“I feel bad doing this without him,” You say, staring down at the two blinking pregnancy tests on the counter. “Mingyu should be here…”
“He’ll be home from work soon won’t he? You’ll tell him then. C’mon, he’ll understand, practically sister code for me to be the first one to know.” She replies, checking the time on her phone.
It’s true, you both always did tell each other everything before you told anybody else.
“It’s almost time.”
“I can’t look.” You anxiously turn away. “It’s killing me.”
“How did this happen?” She asks. “I mean… not to be nosey….”
“Well we talked about it, and we’ve been kinda… sorta, trying to get pregnant.”
“What?! How come you didn’t tell me you were?” She exclaims, playfully shoving you.
“We decided to about a little over a month ago. We talked about it, we decided it was something we both wanted,” You start, just as her phone timer goes off, you quickly turn around from the counter. “Oh my god, oh my god, I can’t look.”
“I’ll do it first,” She says, shoving her way in front of you. “Oh my god… y/n…” You can hear the excitement and smile in her voice.
You turn around, facing the two tests.
You see it, “pregnant”, displayed clearly on both.
“Oh my god, I don’t,” You almost stutter, lost for words. “I- I don’t know what to say.”
“Good news?” She asks.
“Yeah, yeah, of course.” You smile, suddenly becoming teary, feeling a bunch of emotions at once. Excitement. Nervousness. “I just- fuck… I wish Mingyu was here. I didn’t want to find out like this.”
“Relax, you’ll tell him later,” She laughs. “Especially ‘cause I know you won’t be able to keep this from him long.”
“No, you’re absolutely right. There’s no way I’m holding it in.”
And in a blink of a crinkling eye I'm sinking, our fingers entwined Cheeks pink in the twinkling lights Tell me 'bout the first time you saw me...
You spend the evening trying to decide elaborate ways that you’ll tell him.
Putting a test in a gift bag as a present? Corny.
Hiding it somewhere and letting him find it? Too lame.
You decided to literally just come right out and tell him, especially because you didn’t want to figure out some cliche way of getting it out.
Mingyu comes home from work, greeting you as he walks in the door, adorably kissing your forehead as he wraps his arms around you, perfectly engulfing you.
“How was your day, honey?” He sweetly asks you, genuinely curious as he’s awaiting your answer.
“It was good actually, I had coffee with my sister, then we went to the grocery store, doesn’t sound like much but we had fun.” You lean up and kiss his lips, smiling.
“But it’s better now that you’re here.”
Mingyu smiles, kissing you again.
“I’m going to get changed really quick, okay?” Mingyu says.
You jokingly pout. “Aw, but you look so nice in your slacks and button up shirt… at least let me savor it.” You reach up, undoing a few buttons on his shirt.
“Enjoying this?” Mingyu chuckles.
“Yes, very.” You smile.
“Well I was gonna ask you, if you wanted to, Wonwoo and Seungcheol asked if we wanted to go out and get dinner with them, and hang out maybe get some drinks.” He continues, before he starts walking off to your shared bedroom to change, as you follow him. “Wonwoo asked me before I left the office.”
“I don’t know… maybe?” You reply, hesitating a bit.
Meanwhile your mind works a mile a minute trying to think of how to break this news of yours to him.
“It wouldn’t be until a little later, if that’s better. No rush.” Mingyu says, nonchalantly unbuttoning his shirt and slipping it off. What a distraction.
He slips on a white t-shirt , and gray sweatpants; his usual after work attire. Suddenly you wonder if whatever you have to tell him is really that important anyway, and you immediately consider just saying “forget it” and fucking him right here in the early hours of the evening. What’d be the big deal? You were already pregnant, anyways.
No! You quickly shake that thought from your mind, refocusing.
“Gyu,” You start, getting his full attention. “There’s something… I have to tell you something.”
“What?”
“I’m not even really sure how to tell you, um hang on,” You continue, leaving the room quickly to retrieve one of the pregnancy tests you’d left in the bathroom.
You come back, very obviously holding something behind your back.
“I guess I should say I kind of have a surprise to tell you.”
“What? What?” Mingyu asks, eager already by the way you’re already smirking, unable to contain yourself.
“It’s, um, this…” You start, pulling the test from behind your back. “I didn’t know how to tell you, I was gonna plan something but I couldn’t wait.” You laugh, smiling ear to ear.
Mingyu takes it from you, seemingly uncaring, or forgetting, that you literally peed on the thing. His mouth drops opened, in awe.
“Oh my god…” He speaks, beaming. “When did you find out?”
“Today, actually.” You say. “I wound up taking a test, and… yeah.”
You sigh. “I feel so weird about it, I know I was expecting it but I feel so excited and nervous at the same time.”
You glance up at Mingyu, and you see him still examining the test in his hand.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Mingyu nods, his eyes meeting yours and you see he’s now smiling. “I’m just… happy, surprised..”
“I mean, cmon, what were we really expecting…” You joke, blushing.
“You know what I mean, it’s still crazy to me.” Mingyu comes closer to you, kissing you.
“Yeah, it sure is…” You smile up at him.
“It’s okay, honey,” Mingyu reassures you, speaking softly. “Just get it out…”
Mingyu kneels behind you on the cold tile floor, holding your hair back as you’re hanging your head over the toilet as your stomach empties its contents.
“There you go…”
You wonder how he can even stand to be in the bathroom with you, if the roles were reversed, you’d be outside the door nearly gagging.
“Are you okay?” Mingyu asks, helping you sit up, as he wraps his arms around you to keep you steady.
You slowly nod as you flush, still feeling a touch of nausea. “Yeah, can you just- just stay here for a little bit.”
Mingyu sits on the tile floor as he leans against the bathtub, and he guides you back to sit in front of him.
You lean back into him, and he leans down and kisses your shoulder. You catch a glance at his watch on his wrist even in the dim light of the very early morning.
“Oh my god, Gyu, is it really 5am?” You groggily ask, feeling sorry. “You have to work in the morning, don’t you?”
“Shh, it’s okay, it’s not a big deal.” Mingyu reassures you. “I can always go in a little later, I wanna make sure you’re okay.”
“…I think I’m good now,” You say, starting to stand up slowly, as Mingyu helps you all the way. “…You know, I have heard that the more nauseas you are, it probably means you’re having a girl. And if you have none at all, it’s probably a boy.”
Mingyu chuckles, “Where do you come up with this? Is that even a thing?”
“The internet… you know, social media. Everything’s on there.” You protest.
“You’re delirious,” Mingyu playfully rolls his eyes. “Cmon, let’s go back to bed.”
“Gyu, we have to leave in like an hour,” You say, as you’re getting ready in the bathroom, finishing up your final touches on your hair. “I don’t want to be late for dinner at my parents house.”
Mingyu stands in the doorway now, “This okay?” He shows off a navy blue polo shirt and black jeans.
“Yeah, honey, you look nice.” You smile. “Besides, you could wear anything around her, she adores you anyways.”
It was true. Your mother would always be calling Mingyu to help around the house when your Father was away on a business trip. She needed help fixing something? She’d call Mingyu. She needs help building a side table? You bet she’s calling Mingyu. His height was also a bonus, being able to reach things stored higher up.
Mingyu smiles at you adoringly, as his eyes trail down your body.
“What?” You ask when you notice him.
“You’re starting to show a little,” He smiles. “You look cute.”
You giggle, placing your hands on your stomach. “Yeah I know, she wants to be seen now, she’s done hiding.”
“Well, are my girls ready to go?” Mingyu smiles, kissing you.
“Yeah,” You giggle, smiling as you kiss him again. “Let’s go.”
It's true, swear, scouts honor You knew what you wanted and boy, you got her.
tags: @jenoslutie @wonuwrites @aaniag @cosmojinyoung
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hello may i request a logan x reader fic where they co-parent and take care of laura? it can be in an au where laura goes to school but she keeps getting herself into fights and stuff. Just thought it’ll be cute to see a family dynamic between them hehe
little family | old man logan
an: keep the old man logan requests coming 😫 i love dilfs
mutant!reader (again, same as logan 😍)
You were at work at the local library when you got a call about Laura. The young girl had gotten into another fight. She was truly a spitting image of her father. You apologized to your manager and excused yourself so you could go meet Logan at the school. Your relationship with Logan had come to an end, but you still cared deeply for each other and for Laura.
You finally made it to the school parking lot where you coincidentally parked next to Logan’s car. You headed inside the school and from the entrance you could hear loud talking coming from the main office. It was Logan’s voice so you followed it.
Laura sat outside the main office in the chairs that were neatly arranged in a row. She looked at you then ran to you in need of her mother.
“Are you hurt?” You crouched down to her level and inspected her face for cuts or bruises.
Laura shook her head. “No.”
“Was the boy being mean again?” Laura had told you about a boy that kept picking on her. Laura nodded.
You were glad she wasn’t injured. Now it was the principal you had to deal with. You told Laura to stay outside while you confronted the principal.
“How are you sure that Laura was the one to start the fight? The other kid could’ve swung first!” Logan raised his voice.
“Sir, this is the fourth grade. No kid should be ‘swinging’ their fists in the first place. We suggest you and your wife talk to Laura and perhaps look into other schools. Her teacher described her as unhinged and we can’t have—” the principal said.
“Excuse me?” You spoke. All eyes were on you now. Laura had poked her head into the office wanting to see what was going to happen. “Laura is perfectly fine. She doesn’t need this school. Don’t ever talk about my daughter like that ever again.”
Logan could see your claws slowly coming out of your knuckle as you approached the counter. He held you back by grabbing your wrist. “Let’s go.”
Just as Logan was guiding you out the door, the principal spoke again. “What is wrong with you people?!”
“Fuck off!” You and Logan shouted at her as you exited the office, Laura followed you with a small smile on her face.
Your little family of three headed outside. You were sure Logan wasn’t bringing her back to school. Maybe it was time to homeschool Laura. . .
“I can take her if you want to go back to work.” Logan said, taking out a flask from his jacket. He never really did care about school anyway.
“It’s fine. You can go back.” He exhaled, putting the flask back in his jacket.
“Actually, why don’t we go get ice cream? We haven’t done that in a while.” You suggested. Laura immediately turned to Logan and started pulling at his jacket. She loved going out with you and Logan for ice cream.
“Yeah . . . That’s . . Yeah, we could do that.”
So Logan drove in his car while you drove yours with Laura in the passenger seat to the nearest ice cream shop. At the shop, you told them about all the workplace drama and some new books you thought Laura might.
“You three are such a lovely family!” An elderly woman gushed when she saw you. “How long have you and your husband been married? I just celebrated fifty five.”
Before you could correct her about your marital status, Logan spoke up.
“Twenty five years, although it feels as if we’ve been married all this time.” He grabbed your hand from under the table and squeezed it.
“How adorable.” The woman said before saying goodbye and leaving the shop.
Laura looked at you and Logan with a smirk.As she was about to say something, Logan quickly stopped her.
“Just shut up and eat your ice cream, kid.” All you and Laura did was laugh. You loved your little family to death.
#marvel fluff#marvel x reader#logan howlett oneshot#wolverine fluff#wolverine x reader#logan howlett imagine#old man logan#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett#wolverine fanfiction#wolverine#x men#x men imagine
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bambi eyes (1) r. cameron
[Warnings] soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, rafe takes advantage of traumatized reader, DUBCON, dd/lg, sex trafficking, sexual slavery, sugar daddy rafe, stockholm syndrome, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, forced? age regression, little editing, 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK
A/N: My first Rafe fic :)
word count: 4.4k
In which Rafe finds a "healthy" outlet for dealing with his daddy issues.
main masterlist
bambi eyes masterlist
Rafe finally felt he deserved to be back at Tannyhill. The house had remained empty over the last five years, Sarah wanted little to do with her real family anymore, Rafe made the tough decision to send Wheezie to a boarding school in Georgia and now she was starting college there. Rafe had cleaned up his act and gotten clean, mostly clean, and managed to save Cameron Development from complete ruin.
As soon as the police were off his tail, and he’d brought back some legitimacy to the Cameron name, he could develop the true relationships he needed to become unstoppable. It started with Barry, then gangsters from the mainland, and then Rafe's gained connections with the cartels. He then rebuilt the empire the Camerons once had in the Bahamas and now he owned ten times the amount of properties they used to own there.
He could achieve everything Ward never could have. He could be better a man than his father ever could.
After half a year in Nassau, Rafe was finally back in Kildare, and he had plans to make Tannyhill the ultimate fortress. He had finally acquired the last missing piece of his American dream – you. He eyed you in his rearview mirror, passed out in the backseat of his truck, before parking in front of the huge, white house.
There were already white moving trucks parked nearby, men in black clothing unloading new furniture he’d purchased and “merchandise” he’d acquired from the Caribbean Don he’d been working with. That Don is who he purchased you from, picking you out in a lineup of twenty girls.
The Don clapped his hands together before he said, “Just tell me which ones you would like to have a closer look at. I’ll have them stand and turn for you. If you have something in mind — perhaps a certain skin tone, curviness, hair color, I can make a suggestion.”
Rafe responded that he didn’t have a preference and that he would know you were the one when he saw you.
Looking through one-way glass, Rafe noticed aspects of each girl, including the tiredness behind their eyes and the elegance at which each of them moved their bodies. The Don had each girl stand and spin for him. There was not a single falter or misplaced step until Rafe saw you. When it was time for you to spin, you almost tripped over your own foot. You fixed yourself quickly and fixed your gaze forward however, Rafe noticed your eyes began to wander. It felt like you were looking right at him. Like you could see him.
“One of my favorites,” He said in thick Creole, “She’s quite an angel if you’re looking for someone who’s a little tamer. Good hips, natural hair, the breasts and ass are real too. I’m sure you’ll notice. For you, since you’re a friend, fifteen thousand for the whole night.”
The Don wanted Rafe to become a new investor in his trade and possibly bring girls to Kildare in order to expand his clientele. He wanted to impress Rafe, and let him have a night with one of his well-trained girls, although Rafe was looking to make a final purchase.
He hadn’t had a real conversation with you yet, he was in such a hurry to get back to the States that he had to keep you drugged for the time being. It would be better this way, he convinced himself, since he would be able to have the house ready before you came to. He got out the truck before opening the back door. Although you stirred slightly in your sleep, Rafe knew he wouldn’t wake you as he pulled you across the seat and wrapped you in his arms. Bridal style, he carried you up the patio and through the front doors.
An elaborate security system now kept track of everyone coming and going from the house. He had so much more than his father ever would have, but that also meant he had so much more to lose. He was a different man than the last time he was here. Much more mature. He used to throw meaningless parties so he could appear well-known, favorited by all, and hook up with girls who only cared about getting free drugs from him. This time things would be different.
“Hey, hey, careful with that!” Rafe barked at one of the men carrying a white tea table that he’d spent thousands on. He was attempting and failing to carry it and the two matching chairs that it came with. Rafe should’ve known what quality movers he was getting when he let Barry put his men on the job, “You think I’m paying you to break my shit?”
Rafe carried you up the winding stairs of his childhood home, imagining you feeling like this place was yours, just as much as he did. He thought he’d feel slightly more melancholy, looking at the familiar yellow walls, the elegant chandeliers, and period furnishings. Instead, he felt a weight lifted off of him. Your bedroom was one of the old guest rooms, only a few doors down from the master, and unlocked with his fingerprint.
The large room was freshly painted white, a twin-sized canopy bed was placed on the farthest wall, and Rafe placed you on top of the cloud-like comforter. You were still wearing one of his button-ups and a pair of his briefs that fit you more like shorts, Rafe not having had the time to dress you in the way he actually wanted to.
“Put it over in that corner, carefully,” He spoke to the mover carrying the table, although his eyes were focused on you.
“Mr. Cameron-”
“You’re dismissed. Tell Barry I’m expecting him tonight at nine.”
As the man turned to leave, Rafe quickly followed to shut the door behind him. He took another glance around the room, deciding that the table set was the perfect edition. He could bring you your breakfast there in the morning and, who knows, maybe you’d come to like the expensive tea set he also bought you.
Rafe spent a good amount of time just watching you sleep and obsessively thinking about what might he say to you when you awoke. His anxious thoughts didn’t go away when he stopped doing drugs, they worsened in fact, but you were his new medium to focus on. You were healthy for him.
He spent all the time he had between his meeting with Barry, caring for you, “Daddy’s going to take care of you,” He brought you to the bathtub and gently scrubbed you clean, shaving all the areas he preferred to be hairless, even taking the time to braid your hair so that it was out of your face. He quite liked you like this, like his very own doll, someone he could mold into a perfect Kook princess. Women in the real world often perplexed him, especially women like Sarah, who took the luxuries they were provided for granted.
You’d appreciate everything that Rafe could offer you, he knew that, and you’d be obedient as well. He brought you back to the main room once you were dried, and clean and your skin was moisturized and scented with vanilla. He laid you on the soft carpet in front of your bed and dressed you in a white nightgown and then took his time rolling white knee socks up your leg.
He could take his time, pacing himself, as he ran his fingers over every inch of you. He’d been rock hard ever since he undressed you originally, and he debated whether to take a quick sample of you.
You have plenty of time, Rafe, he reminded himself.
His phone vibrated a short while later after he tucked you back into bed, and he clicked the notification. Video of the driveway appeared on the screen, and Rafe saw Barry climbing from his car, “Daddy will be back very soon,” He spoke although you couldn’t hear, placed a kiss on your forehead although you couldn’t feel it, and shut the door quietly although you wouldn’t wake.
As soon as Rafe opened the front door, Barry was already shouting, “Country Club! How you been, man?” Rafe’s hand was already out to shake his. Truthfully, and sadly, Rafe would consider Barry his oldest friend. “You happy about all the money I’ve been making you?”
“Thrilled,” Rafe spoke sarcastically, leading Barry to his father’s old office. He thought back to the days when he had to creep through this room and steal because Ward didn’t trust him. Now, it was all his, “Speaking of …”
Swiftly, Barry pulled a roll of hundred-dollar bills from his pocket and dropped it in Rafe’s hand. Leaning against the oak desk, Rafe began to count, “That’s what I got for the boats. Those cars are going to take a little bit longer to sell.”
“And why’s that?”
“Those cars are classics, man, so I have a little bit of a bidding war going on,” Barry explained.
“I said I wanted them moved quickly,” Rafe sighed. He needed to get rid of as many of his father’s old things as possible if he wanted this place to be really his.
“I’ll get you everything by the end of the week,” Rafe nodded, continuing to flip through the bills, although normally this would be about the time he’d throw a tantrum, “So … heard you got yourself a beautiful girl-”
“Your guys run their mouths.”
“But it’s true?” Barry flashed his gold tooth, “You whipped, Country Club?”
Rafe opened the safe behind the tall bookcases, punched in the code, and safely tucked away the twenty-thousand dollars.
“Don’t worry about it, I wouldn’t let you anywhere near her anyways.”
Barry scoffs, “That breaks my heart, Rafe. I’m tired of these Pogue girls and the mainland chicks are even worse. In the old days, we used to share. You won’t help a brother out?”
Rafe smirked, “Like you said, that was the old days.”
You felt weighed down by whatever you were lying underneath, your eyelids were so heavy it took you a full minute to blink them open. You moved each limb slowly, trying to get blood flowing through them again. You saw sunlight reflecting off porcelain walls and felt creamy soft blankets enveloping you. You should feel comforted.
Pushing away the blankets holding you down, you pulled yourself up, strong enough to get onto your hands and knees. You stepped off the platform, off the bed, touching your toes against soft carpet but quickly your legs gave out. You whined as your knees hit the ground, surely bruising your skin, and let yourself fall back on your bottom.
Something fell down with you and turning your head slightly you found a teddy bear. You grabbed it by its arm, examining its chestnut fur and the pink bow tied around its neck. What? That was the question forming in your mind. You looked back at the bed you’d fallen out of and your eyes darted around the room. Three doors, a wall with big windows and long curtains, a table with chairs, a toy chest, a tall armoire, and a bookcase. This room did not belong to you, even in your wildest dreams, you’d never been somewhere so nice.
You noticed details in the wallpaper; small pink flowers decorated each wall, and white trim lined all the edges. All the furniture was white as well with elegant designs, and your original thought was that you must be in a castle.
You attempted to stand again and managed to get straight up on your wobbling legs until there was a small click, and the door began to open. You quickly stumbled back before you were sitting back on top of the mattress.
“You’ll go with Mr. Cameron now. To America,” Master said, “And you’ll remember your manners, won’t ya? Don’t want to end up like your friend.”
Mr. Cameron stood in front of you now. You remembered him being tall, but you didn’t remember feeling so small in front of him. With hands holding a tray in front of him, his mouth parted as his blue eyes raked over your figure.
You gripped the comforter tightly as he stepped closer, “You’ll have to take it easy,” He said first, walking over to that small table and placing the tray down, “Let me help you.”
When he came towards you, he held out both of his hands. You felt like you usually did, terrified, but there was always a voice in the back of your head telling you to obey. There would be worse pain than a bruised knee if you didn’t do as Mr. Cameron said. You grabbed ahold of his hands, allowing him to help you up before his hands moved to your hips as he steadied you.
“How do you feel?” He asked, a genuineness in his tone that you weren’t expecting.
Your lips parted and you realized you hadn’t spoken in so long. You also hadn’t had anyone ask you that question in a long, long time, “I’m … okay,” You spoke quietly as he searched your face. He was staring so intently that you grew insecure, turning your eyes away.
“I brought breakfast,” He began to guide you over to the table. You took slow steps, one in front of the other, holding onto him tightly when you felt you might fall. He set you gently down in the chair before taking the seat opposite you. You could see out the windows from this seat, your eyes finding a long dock and the ocean. When he cleared his throat, your eyes snapped back to his, “I’m not much of a cook but there’s a lady who works for me …she makes great pancakes, french toast, anything you could want really.”
You stared down at scrambled eggs, sausage, toast, and a pancake with a chocolate chip smiley face and a whipped cream nose. He started to pour you a glass of water, pushing it towards you, “Drink something,” He said, “You’ve been sleeping for a long time.”
You were really thirsty, you realized, and you took the glass he poured for you. When he didn’t pour himself one, a question rose in your mind, “Will this … make me sleep again?”
He immediately shook his head, “No, no. Drink, please.”
You were thankful, welcoming the nourishment. As you devoured the glass of water, he began to cut up the pancake into small pieces. You watched his concentrated face as he meticulously poured the syrup. Your mind didn’t stay on his interesting behavior because you were focused on eating next.
“My name is Rafe,” He said, “But you’ll call me Daddy.”
You paused, your mouth full of pancakes, “Okay? Nod yes if you understand,” He added.
You nodded your head, starting to chew again, and a smile seemed to pull at his lips. That’s what he must like all his girls to call him. “Good, that’s rule number one …This is your room, from now on. I’ll show you around the house after you settle in more. For now, you need permission to leave this room. Yeah?”
Again, you nodded, before swallowing your food. Rafe reached across the table with a napkin, wiping syrup from your chin, “I’m sorry,” You said, feeling embarrassed.
“No need to apologize,” He assured you, “From now on, I’m going to take care of you.”
Take care of you. You weren’t positive about what he meant.
Your hands moved to your lap, “Can I ask … how many girls you take care of?”
His head tilted, and he seemed amused, “Just you, sweet girl.”
“This whole room is just for me?”
“Yes, and this whole house will be just for us,” He answers, “Here, that reminds me. I was going to wait until dinner but . . . I can’t wait.”
You watched as he reached into the pocket of his khaki pants, pulling out a silver necklace with a beautiful, pearl pendant. Still, you found yourself struggling to wrap your head around what was going on. Rafe stood, coming closer in order to put the necklace around your neck. You heard a small click before Rafe pulled his fingers away. Your fingers reach up to feel the pearl, “You’ll always keep this on. Okay?”
You nodded.
“Tell me.”
“I’ll always keep it on … Daddy,” You remembered to add. Something lit up in his eyes, and he took your chin in his hand and tilted it up further.
“Smart girl, Bambi,” He stated, “That’s what I’ll call you.”
You nodded, although you weren’t sure why he picked it for you. It was better than “whore” or “slut” which seemed to be Master’s favorites. Bambi sounded … cute, which certainly wasn’t a way you would describe yourself, “Daddy … why …all of this, uhm, for me?”
“You’ll have everything I want you to have. And Daddy wants the best for you, understand?”
“Y-Yes, uhm … thank you.”
“C’mere, let me give you a tour of the room” He gripped underneath your arms, helping you stand. The human closeness, his warmness, wasn’t something you were expecting. You couldn’t fully let your guard down though, you were still waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“It’s good to have, uh, a routine,” Rafe explained, before showing you every item in the room. He clearly had been involved in picking everything out which you didn’t expect, “You’ll wake up by eight, make your bed every morning. . . your dirty laundry will go here and all your clothes are in here, if I have something specific picked out for you to wear, I’ll hang it here, you won’t wear any panties when you’re dressing for bed …and here’s the bathroom,” When you saw yourself in the mirror for the first time, your eyes widened in disbelief. Your hair was neatly braided, white bows wrapped at the end of each braid, and the nightgown made you look like . . . a doll. In the mirror, you could see Rafe lean his mouth down to your ear, “Do you like what you see?”
“I look …I think I look pretty, Daddy.”
“You do, sweet girl; that’s why I chose you.”
This was right. Rafe couldn’t have made a better decision choosing you. He had more rules to introduce you to but didn’t want to overwhelm you. He left you to brush your teeth while he took your tray of food back to the kitchen. When he returned, he found you peeking inside the toy chest, letting the top shut a little too loudly after he seemed to frighten you, ‘It’s okay, all these things are for you. I wasn’t exactly sure what you might like.”
He kneeled down with you as you took a look inside. There were quite a lot of stuffed animals, some puzzles, coloring sets, and some dolls. “My, uh, my sister Sarah, she used to love American Girl dolls. Have you ever heard of those?” You shook your head, picking up one that was dressed like an 80’s aerobic instructor, “They have all types of dolls. I should order you one that looks more like you.”
Rafe noticed you perk up at that. “One that looks like me?”
Your reaction made him chuckle, “Yeah, why not? If you want anything at all, you can just ask me,” Rafe could tell you didn’t believe him, although you still nodded in agreement, “I know you can’t be entertained forever by these things, but it’s better for your brain than watching TV all day. And we can watch movies together.”
“That would be nice-” Rafe leaned in to kiss you, his intrusive thought winning after staring at your lips. Rafe was surprised by how gentle it was and how gentle he still wanted to be with you. You were reacting so well to everything, he didn’t want to take the chance of ruining this. When he pulled away, you immediately started to lift your nightgown, attempting to expose yourself to him.
“You don’t have to do that,” Rafe gently grabbed your hand, pulling it away from your dress.
“I thought you wanted me …”
“ I do, I definitely do,” Rafe laughed awkwardly, “Let’s wait a little while longer. I want to undress you myself.”
You nodded eagerly, “But I … I could use my mouth?”
Rafe couldn’t believe someone could sound so innocent even while they were offering to give a blowjob, “Not before I taste you first, sweet girl.” Sexually, Rafe liked to be in complete control. He’d decide when they were ready, what positions, and who tasted who. His mind was starting to wander a little too far. He needed to remain composed for the time being, “For now, I want you to play. I need to work for a few hours, but I will bring you lunch, and we’ll eat together, okay?”
“Okay…thank you, Daddy,” You agreed, and Rafe happily placed a kiss on your forehead.
“You’re welcome, Bambi.”
Rafe tried to concentrate on work, he had a million things to arrange now that he was back in Figure 8, but his eyes would wander to the live footage on his computer screen from Bambi’s bedroom. She spent a while going through the toys he bought for her, and then she neatly made up the bed, before deciding on the American Girl dolls. Next thing Rafe knew, he was in virtual meeting with his Cameron Development team but was actively scrolling through the American Girl doll website in another tab.
Like he promised, Rafe took a break in the middle of the day to each lunch with you. Lana, Tannyhill’s newest household manager, prepared grilled sandwiches. Rafe joined you by the window seat where you had made yourself comfortable with two of the dolls and your teddy bear. You asked about Figure 8, of course, and Rafe gladly gave you the basics.
That night, after dinner was enjoyed, Rafe laid beside you in bed. You chose a book to read together, a chapter book called Bridge to Terebithia, “I have to admit, I’m not much of a reader. But this should be easy enough, right?”
“When you were little, did you always have …this?” You asked, a few pages of reading later, “Books and clothes and seats by the window.”
“I guess I did, yeah,” Rafe answered, “It was not all rainbows and sunshine, though.”
“Your father, was he like Master?”
“Yeah, basically. He was not a good man,” Rafe closed the book, turning his eyes to you “And he’s not your Master anymore, okay? It’s me and you now. Just me and you.”
You tilted your head, nuzzling more into the pillow, “If I’m bad, you won’t send me back?”
“No, not ever,” Rafe said steadfastly.
“You’ll punish me?”
Your words made him pause, and he could sense your worry, “I’m not going to hurt you, not in any real way,” Rafe’s hands found your waist, he gripped the bare skin beneath your nightgown, before his fingers roamed over your bottom, “You know how to be a good girl, right?”
You nodded, staring back, “Then you have nothing to worry about,” Rafe kissed you again, this time deeply and with the purpose of fully tasting you. He squeezed your bottom tight, pulling your front further against him so he could buck his hips against you. The book fell unread and to the wayside as Rafe roamed his hands over you.
He should wait, he told himself. It was only your first day here, but you were all that he had been waiting for. The idea that he could have you anytime, anywhere, and anyway he wanted you excited him more. A moan escaped you, and Rafe knew you were overwhelmed with the sensations, but he liked the idea of you feeling too much. He wanted fear in your eyes, fear that you wouldn’t be able to take him, and then he wanted you to fully surrender to him.
Rafe buried his face in your neck, kissing and sucking until you cried out. Rafe knew you were a good girl because you had obediently gotten into bed for the night without your panties. He wrapped a strong arm around your back, easily flipping you onto your back. Rafe pulled away, breathing heavily, as he looked down at you.
“You okay, sweet girl?” Rafe asked, noticing your eyes were still closed. As you nodded, Rafe said, “Open your eyes for me.”
Rafe parted your legs further, reaching down to feel between your lips. Gently, he stroked up and down, feeling wetness at your entrance, “Tell Daddy how you like it.”
“I . . .” As he dipped a finger inside, your eyes shut again, squeezing tightly. This was a look of pleasure, Rafe noted, “Daddy-ah!”
“I think you want it gentle, hmm,” His index finger moved in and out slowly as his thumb caressed your clit, “I can be gentle, don’t worry.”
Rafe moved painfully slow, watching how every movement of his would change your facial expression. Once you were squeezing around his fingers and soaking the sheets, Rafe pulled down his sweatpants. He pressed his length against your entrance, watching your face as he pushed inside. You took a breath of air, your mouth forming an “o” shape as he slowly eased his way in and out.
He pressed his body closer to you, your arms instinctively wrapping around his back, and he tucked his head beside yours, his breath caressing your ear. He was gentle like he said, but he had to test your limits and see how deep he could go. Your whimpers told him what he needed to know and he felt your nails begin to dig into his back.
“Daddy, d-daddy, daddy,” You moaned his name, sounding a bit delirious as you repeated it over and over.
Rafe rocked harder against you, “Tell me. Say thank you for saving me Daddy.”
“Thank you–” Your voice came out barely above a whisper but Rafe could hear your small voice in his ear, “Thank you for saving me, Daddy.” Your hips writhing beneath him, needing more of him, was the final thing that sent Rafe flying towards the edge of the cliff.
He wanted to focus, to make himself last longer, but he needed you in that moment. His thrusts became shorter, and he sank deeper inside of you as he reached his peak, “Jesus,” Rafe gasped as you squeezed him tightly, your warmness pulsed around him, “Fuck.”
He resisted his desire to stay inside of you forever, pulling out and slumping beside you. Rafe’s eyes were wide, and he found himself staring at the ceiling for a moment to process what happened.
“Was that . . . good?” Your voice brought him back down to reality.
“Perfect, sweet girl,” Rafe took you in his arms, and you cuddled into his chest. Again, he whispered, “Jesus.”
Please let me know what your thoughts and predictions are! Reblog with a comment to be added to my taglist!
Part 2
#dark fic#rafe x reader#rafe obx#rafe cameron#outer banks#dark!rafe cameron#black!reader#rafe cameron x black!reader#rafe cameron smut#obx fic#outer banks smut#barry outer banks#rafe smut#rafe fanfiction
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Bruce looking past the fact that (recently adopted) Danny is a powerhouse and recognizing that he has other skills also. <3
Danny is a STEM kid and just as brilliant as his sister, you cannot convince me otherwise
Danny gave Bruce the handwritten list of powers in the morning. Bruce stared at it over his cup of coffee, then gave Danny a flat, somewhat disbelieving look. Danny shrugged sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Sorry,” he said, perching on one of the stools. “I can point out the ones I don’t use if you just want to work on the ones I do. At least I have an idea of what needs improving with those.” Alfred gave him a cup of coffee and a plate of bacon and French toast, and Danny smiled at him. “Thanks, Alfred.”
“We’ll have to prioritize your training,” Bruce allowed after a moment, frowning down at the paper. Dick leaned over to look and whistled. “But all of these will be addressed eventually. You should have at least a moderate grasp of every tool at your disposal.” He looked up. “You intended to work in the lab today, correct?”
Danny nodded, playing with a strip of bacon. “I’ll probably spend most of today making a big batch of phaseproof coating,” he said. “Then I can experiment with mixing it with paint and maybe coat some of your spare weapons in it? That should work for the bo staff and escrima sticks, maybe a set of brass knuckles. But I’ll need to make a different solution for the edged weapons.” His mind wandered, thinking of how he could adapt what he knew of the Bats’ gear to work against ghosts.
“Who’re the brass knuckles for?” Dick asked, raising an eyebrow at Danny. Danny flushed and shrugged.
“Batman,” he said. “You don’t really use a weapon, right?” Bruce grunted. “But phaseproof cloth isn’t something my parents ever really figured out. I can work on it, maybe, but I thought brass knuckles would be an okay compromise for now.”
“Hn.”
“Good thinking,” Dick praised with a smile. “It’ll be easy to add to the utility belt too. Should we ghostproof my main set or a spare?”
“The main, I think, if you’re okay with it,” Danny said, tilting his head thoughtfully. “You probably won’t even notice. But the edged weapons should all be spares. Ecto-treated metal tends to glow.”
“Not great for stealth,” Dick nodded. “Whatever you think is best, baby spook. We have the resources.”
“You’re hyper-specialized,” Bruce noted without inflection, sipping from his coffee. Danny winced.
“Sorry,” he muttered. It was easy to forget that all this was pretty useless outside of Amity Park. Bruce shook his head.
“It’s not a problem. But we’ll need to diversify your skillset. Your talent for chemistry and engineering should expand beyond ectoscience alone.” He studied Danny contemplatively. “Higher education might be beneficial, perhaps a PhD.”
Danny’s eyes went wide. “What? I’m barely passing high school!”
“I had Casper High send over your transcripts,” Bruce said. Danny flinched. “You had a B+ average in middle school, with a particular bent for math and science. You also participated in several advanced extracurriculars, including a junior astronaut program, space camp, and competitive robotics. Further, you clearly have a comprehensive understanding of your parents’ work, which eludes both the Justice League engineers and JL Dark. You had these talents prior to acquiring your powers, and it would be a waste to discard them in favor of your raw combat ability.”
Danny stared at Bruce, open-mouthed and speechless. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d considered even the possibility that he could have a future outside of his hero career.
“…Do you think I could do that and be a superhero?” he managed after a minute, quieter than he’d meant to.
Bruce nodded sharply. “Most Justice League heroes maintain a career outside of heroics,” he reminded Danny, without even sounding like he thought Danny was an idiot for asking. “Aside from myself, there is also a Pulitzer prize-winning journalist, a museum curator, a forensic scientist, and a fighter pilot.”
Danny had known that on some level, but it had always seemed unreal. Practically a myth. “When am I going back to school?” he asked, hardly able to believe that he was suddenly looking forward to it.
“At the beginning of next semester,” Bruce said. “Your parents’ trial should be completed by then. I assume you don’t want to be announced publicly until that happens.” Danny shook his head fervently. “You may need to complete some make-up classes online, but we can discuss that next week.”
“Thanks,” Danny said sincerely. He was talking about a lot more than his re-enrollment.
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The Babysitter - Again | dad!harry x babysitter!reader
Part 2 of THIS
Summary: Harry and the babysitter do it again.
A/n: Requested!
Word Count: 2,537
Warning: smut, cheating, inappropriate relationship/power imbalance, etc.
. . .
While Harry fantasized about fooling around with the babysitter more often than not, he didn’t believe he’d get another opportunity. His wife didn’t leave for work trips like she had the one evening. In fact, she was usually always home by the time Harry got home after work, and the cute babysitter was already long gone.
He did see her that morning, though. And what a surprise it was too. She arrived early, before Harry had rushed out the door to head off for the day. He heard her voice just as he was fixing up his tie, stopping the task midway to peek into the living room.
Holy shit… he muttered under his breath as he let his eyes slink over her long legs and the little shorts that hugged her ass just so. She was adorable, as always, but it’d been a bit since he’d seen her in person and immediately his mind worked its way through some very filthy thoughts about what he had done with her that night.
She laughed and turned toward the tall archway where he stood in the hall and smiled at him. He wasn’t one to get flustered but damn if the babysitter didn’t do it for him. She always had, but especially now, knowing what they’d done. Knowing what her body looked like under her little outfits, the kinds of noises she made, how good she felt around him, and how wet she got for him.
He blinked and turned back, face flushed hot from the salacious memory. Something he’d been reimagining over and over again since that fateful night.
Harry palmed at his crotch to tame the growing lump underneath and he sighed before grabbing his briefcase and car keys.
With a quick check of his hair in the mirror he stepped into the living room where Y/n was sitting on the couch with her left leg crossed over her right as his wife went to get their kid.
“Hi. You’re here early,” he looked her over again as she lifted her gaze to his and stood up.
“Yeah. Woke up early and figured I’d get a head start. Here,” she stepped in closer and took his tie, fixing the bit he’d forgotten about when he realized she was there. She kept her hands on the knot and looked up at him. There it was again. That doe-eyed fuck me look that had him plumping in his pants.
She released the tie and moved back as she looked behind Harry toward the hallway and back up at him, “How’ve you been?”
He nodded, “Alright. And you?”
She shrugged, “Okay.”
“Just okay?”
She offered a small smile and nodded, “Just okay.”
Harry didn’t know if she was trying to tell him something or not. Maybe it was school that was difficult or boyfriend issues – he didn’t think she had a boyfriend but he’d never asked either.
“Anything I can help with?” Now he was speaking low and quiet, curious what she might say.
“Mmm…” she pursed her lips to the side and shrugged again, “Probably.”
He knew exactly what she meant when she looked back up at him through her lashes and bit her lip. Goddamn, he could get into so much trouble.
Harry clenched his jaw and looked behind himself and with the coast still clear he reached for her fingers and whispered, “Would love to help. I just don’t know when I could ever do it again, Y/n.”
She nodded, “I know. I just can’t stop thinking about it.”
“Y/n!”
Harry watched his boy run toward the babysitter and break the spell. Which was for the better. He didn’t need to be fucking around like that. What he’d done with her was a one-time thing. As much as he’d love more of her, that just wasn’t in the cards for them.
. . .
It was 1 o’clock when he got the text from his wife. She’d gotten off work early and was already home. Which meant she’d relieved Y/n. And she was at her dorm apartment with nothing to do. Perhaps even alone.
Harry gulped down the saliva that had pooled on his tongue just imagining what he could get up to with Y/n. But he had a pile of work to do. There was no way he could leave the office and still get his project ready by Friday.
It was such a bad idea to even be thinking about it. Yet there he was sliding his files into his briefcase and making the decision to finish some work at home later that night. He’d definitely lost his mind as he sent a text to Y/n asking her if she was home. And her nearly immediate response – Yes. Alone – had him rushing right out the door and jogging to his car to travel across town to Y/n’s apartment.
He wasn’t really even thinking. Not with a rational mind. If anyone saw him coming or going that might be bad. Though, he imagined no one would know who he was anyway. He was just a regular schmo after all. Who would be the wiser?
Y/n met him in the foyer and pulled at his hand before pushing a door open that led to a stairwell. She was only up one floor. Her small dorm was a one-room apartment with a separate bathroom attached.
She turned to face him when he closed the door behind himself, “My roommate has two more classes before she’s done for the day. My only class today is at 7 so…”
Harry grinned and stepped in, placing his meaty hands on her arms and bringing her closer, “So that means we have a little bit of time. And you need my help with something, don’t you?”
She puffed out a laugh with a nod, “I mean if you want. I know…” She sighed and blinked her eyes, he could tell she was nervous, “This is wrong, but… it’s just…”
“It’s just so good, though, isn’t it?”
She nodded again, teeth digging into her bottom lip. Fuck she was cute.
Y/n didn’t need any cues. She lowered her sight to the belt he had on and began to unbuckle him with deft fingers before she undid the button on his pants and pulled at the zipper.
He helped her push his pants down as she lowered to her knees and took her palm over his crotch, softly rubbing upward over his underwear.
“You get so hard… and so big…” She peeled his briefs down slowly once his cock was at full mast and the moment the fabric was pushed under his balls she wrapped her fingers around his rigid shaft and placed soft kisses along the thick vein underneath, licking over his tip and placing him in her mouth.
He put a palm at the back of her head as he watched her suckle around his crown and then pull him deeper into her mouth, tongue swirling and sucking as she looked up at him.
“Baby doll… fuck…”
Harry was so worked up. The last person he’d had sex with was Y/n and now here she was again with her pretty lips stretched around his length, tugging at his base with everything she had in her. She wanted to make him feel good and she was eager. It was no wonder he was so anxious to get to her apartment and flaked out on work. Flake out on his wife. If this was his reward, he’d continue doing it every fucking chance he got (which he knew would be rare).
Soon he had her on her bed completely naked and spread out with his mouth on her cunt. He didn’t even remember the last time his wife let him lick her pussy. His sex life had grown so dry. Hardly a smidgeon of foreplay before they were both rolling over and falling asleep.
But Y/n was moaning and pulling his hair, smearing her juices all over his face as she writhed and quivered from his fingers gliding against her front wall and his lips suctioning to her clit. Honestly? She was a breath of fresh air. Another person who liked sex as much as he did. Harry thought he had been doomed to a life with boring and barely palatable sex (that was when he could get it). Y/n could be the answer to that problem.
He loved the noises she made when she came. She was just loud enough that anyone walking by her door could hear her, but not so loud that everyone in the hallway would know what was happening in that room.
Harry’s cock was so hard as he let go of her thigh and sat up, reaching a hand up her body to smooth his thumb over her nipple, wiping her arousal all around it.
She was breathing heavily, a small, cute smile on her face as she looked at him and kept her legs parted before saying the hottest thing he’d ever heard, “You can have me now.”
Her wet pussy was a decadent treat just for him. Sliding himself right in she inhaled through puckered lips at the stretch and he groaned from relief. And once again he gave it to her bare. No condom. He was insane, he was sure. He’d pull out before he could come, just like the first time, but he was obsessed with how she felt around him, all squishy and warm and soaking wet.
Her bed was cheap with a metal frame and Harry was a big man with a lot of endurance and pent-up desire. He was a man who was getting his cock wet by a girl who wanted it and he was not going to worry about how quiet he was. In fact, the bouncing springs, and frame slapping into the wall only heightened the experience for him. He not only loved the way sex felt and smelled and looked, but he also loved how everything sounded. The way her cunt gushed wetly every time he plowed in, her little squeaks and moans, skin patting together when his hips met hers, and the screeching and bouncing bed they were doing it on were all music to his ears.
“Oh god!” She cried when he ground in, swiveling his hips, buried into the hilt, slushy wetness seeping down to her ass.
“Mmm… fuck, Y/n…” Harry was in heaven as he fucked into her. His balls were squeezing and his cock was throbbing. Perhaps a condom would’ve been a wise decision, especially if it meant he could hold out longer. But he hated the thought of not getting to feel her as nature intended.
He smeared his lips against hers and she rolled up into him, moaning into his mouth. He was sure he was driving deep in her guts, stuffed up into her tummy every time he bottomed out. She keened and cooed and quivered under him.
His chest was pressed against hers and he felt her nails scrape into his lats as his glutes flexed with every thrust. They were pasted together, the only bits moving were their lips and tongues and Harry’s thighs as he worked his girthy dick into her, dragging through her tight walls.
Rocking down hard into her, he wanted to make sure her clit had enough friction. His chest was sweating and his insides were boiling. He was so close to his end.
But then he felt her squeezing in pulses and then clamp down, her mouth dropped open and she halted her kisses as she began to moan loudly, “Mmm… coming… want your come. Come inside of me…”
Harry closed his eyes and tried to ignore the way his inner demon told him to fuck it and give her what she wanted. Fill her up with his come and push it deep into her tummy. He was already playing with fire.
Gritting his teeth he endured the way her cunt was siphoning around him, pulling and fluttering… she felt so good on his cock. Nothing had felt so good in a long time.
And the moment his balls began to constrict with that tell-tell throb and pinch he pulled out with a filthy groan and wrapped his big hand around himself to spurt his come over her pussy, a few ropes coated her clit. But then Y/n scrambled to sit up and she practically dove forward with her mouth wide open, tongue jutted out, and sucked him into her mouth. She placed her hands on his hips and drank him down, moaning around him and sliding her lips down his shaft as far as she could take him.
“Fuck! Oh, fuck me!” Harry rasped out in a deep voice as he placed both palms on her head and rutted inward to let her suck him dry.
When Y/n could tell he’d calmed and he let go of her head she pulled off of him, strings of saliva and come connecting her lips and his cock. It was dirty.
She blinked her bleary eyes up at him, “Why didn’t you come inside of me?”
Harry pulled at her and brought them down to lie on their sides facing one another, “Because that seems a little reckless. Don’t you think?”
She sighed and drew a finger over his swallow tattoos, “I’m on birth control. And… I’ve only had sex with one guy and that was like a year and a half ago. I mean…” she looked up at him with innocent rounded eyes, “I know it’s bad I just wanted to let you do it. Maybe feel it later while I’m in class.”
Harry’s brows shot up at all of this new info.
Looking into her eyes he wrapped his hand around the front of her throat and pressed his mouth to hers. She was gonna be trouble if she was talking like that. Those words… that was every straight man’s fantasy right there.
He parted from the kiss and she gasped as if he’d just given her the headiest kiss she’d ever tasted, “Baby… fuck…” he shook his head and sat up, “That’s… alright. Next time we’ll talk about me filling you up. Preferably before you start to come. Okay?”
She watched him dress himself as she lay in her bed still naked, “So you want a next time?”
Harry let out an incredulous laugh, “I hope there’s a next time. Can’t promise anything. Kind of hard to find moments like these.”
She nodded, his trousers pulled up as he buttoned himself in. Chest still bare and broad and strong.
He grinned when he noticed she was staring at him. He hadn’t been ogled in a long time either. Everything about Y/n was what he’d been missing in his marriage. Which was a fucking shame when he sat and thought about it too much. It was sad that he had to get some of his most basic needs met by someone else. He should have been doing all that with his wife.
But again, there was no remorse or guilt. That hadn’t come yet. He was just going to enjoy the ride while it lasted and hoped he didn’t get caught.
. . .
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"Make Me Wanna" | Jackson!Joel x Reader oneshot
Song: Make Me Wanna - Thomas Rhett Summary: Joel fucks you in the back of a truck. That's literally it. Tags/Warnings: MDNI, 18+, porn with a smattering of plot, smut, PIV, dirty talk, pets names (baby, darling), kind of dom!Joel, established relationship, Jackson era Word Count: 3.2k A/N: As always, the lyrics have been worked into the story, so if you can listen please do!
There are two working vehicles in Jackson. The school bus – a large van that serves as transport for the kids in the winter, when the paths freeze over and the snow falls too thick to walk through – and a ’75 Chevy Cheyenne. It’s the keys to this that Tommy hands Joel one early morning, the dry Wyoming summer heat already pushing the mercury up into the eighties.
The rest of the town are still asleep, but you, Joel, and Tommy are outside in the square, your conversation chorused by the call of the town’s raggedy old rooster. Joel’s having trouble concentrating on his brother’s instructions, his eyes flicking like the hands on a clock to the way the dress you pulled on this morning clings to your ass and hips, the thin cotton leaving very little to his imagination.
He’s sure you’ve done it on purpose; there can be no other reason to wear such an impractical outfit when you’re heading out beyond the wall. Sure, it’s an easy run – up to the dam, check everything’s in order, head back – but Joel’s not sure how he’s even going to make it there with you in that ridiculous damn dress, curves calling out to him. It makes him wanna-
“Joel, are even you listening?” Tommy’s voice cuts through his reverie, has him shaking his head like he’s trying to clear it of flies.
“Yeah, yeah.”
“What was the last thing I just said?”
“Uh,”
Tommy rolls his eyes and Joel looks at you for help, but you just smile at him innocently with dimples in your cheeks, batting your eyelashes like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing.
“Jesus Joel, can’t you concentrate for two minutes?”
Tommy relaunches into his lecture about the dam and the route, and Joel tries to pay attention to the words, tries to ignore the way you’re gliding a single finger across the small of his back, hand dipping under his shirt to reach the hot skin there. It’s such an innocent gesture, the pad of your finger caressing him gently, without urgency, but it sends electricity coiling up his spine.
For your part, it’s all you can do not to jump him here and now. Tommy’s early morning wakeup call disturbed what was shaping up to be a very pleasant morning in bed with Joel, and there’s an insistent warmth in your belly at the memory of his rough stubble on the back of your neck as you lay together in bed not an hour ago. You’re wondering how far you can push him, how riled up he’ll have to be before he sacks in this run and takes you back to bed.
Finally convinced that Joel’s taken on board at least some of what he’s said, or perhaps fed up of trying to talk to him while he’s clearly so distracted, Tommy leads you both to an old barn where the vehicles are kept. The chevvy is a faded, sun-bleached red: a worn leather front bench up front, large enough for three or four people to sit in a line, with an open bed in the back. You climb into the cab next to Joel, shuffle yourself over so that you’re almost in his lap where he sits at the wheel.
“Wanna explain what this is about?” He asks as he starts the engine, gesturing to the dress with his free hand.
“I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about.” You reply, and you can hear him rolling his eyes, hear the tight, whispered Jesus Christ as he shifts the truck into gear.
It’s a slow drive through Jackson; the narrow streets aren’t built for vehicles. Joel steers the truck around the chicken coops and picnic benches, taking you to the front of town where the gates are. Here, the watchers on the duty lever open the corrugated metal wall that separates Jackson from the wilderness outside, and Joel guides the truck through.
You haven’t had much of a chance to spend time outside the walls since your arrived in Jackson some four months ago, but even so, you find it hard to take in the countryside and wide, rolling hills with Joel sat next to you, his warm hand on your thigh. You trace patterns across the back of his hand, follow the lines of old scars and new scratches, let your fingertips trail higher, up to his bare wrist, over the prominent veins that sit just beneath his tan skin.
“I know what you’re doin’” He says, voice dark as he squeezes your thigh in his grip, a warning you’re bound to ignore.
“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.” You repeat, letting go of his wrist to lean across in your seat, reaching for the glove box. You pull it open.
“Aha!” A cassette tape falls out into your hand, writing blurred with age but still legible. “County Sound FM.”
You slide it into the old cassette player set in the dash, hold your breath as it cracks and pops and then starts playing.
“Is this…” Joel turns his head slightly, angling so that the gentle rhythm and rolling melody can reach his good ear. “R.E.M.?”
“Man on the Moon,” You confirm, looking at the track listing on the cassette.
“Jesus.” He says, shaking his head.
He takes a right at the end of the main track up to Jackson, down a dirt road that’s overhung with dense trees. You let your eyes trace over his profile; the strong, curved line of his nose, dark stubble that’s flecked with grey. His jaw is set, but he’s nodding along with the music. He catches you watching him out of the corner of his eye and squeezes your thigh again, kneading the flesh there.
“You gotta stop looking at me that way, baby,” He says, shifting the fabric of your dress so that he can drag his hand further up your leg, the heat of his palm almost feverish against you.
You shift in the seat, open your legs wider, encouraging him to move higher still and then turn into him, press you lips against the juncture of his throat, inching your own hand over the front of his jeans where he’s already half hard.
“You know there’s only so much I can take,” His voice is gruff against the lightness of the country song. “You make me wanna…”
He trails off and you huff a laugh against his collarbone, move your mouth to his ear so that you can say, “make you wanna what, Joel?” into it.
“Pull this truck to the side of the road, for a start.” He says, turning his head to look at you.
His eyes are dark, expression serious, a frown creasing his brow. The hand he’s got on the steering wheel is gripping it tight, knuckles white against the dark leather of the grip. You can see the tension in his shoulders, his thighs when he shifts as you run the flat of your hand against his cock.
“If you don’t stop,” He says, voice catching in his throat, “I’m gonna- fuck, darlin’, Jesus Christ.”
He breaks off as you slip your hand suddenly under the waistband of his jeans, wrist barely squeezing between the buckle of his belt and his stomach. His cock jerks against your hand, smearing precum across your knuckles as you fight against the tight denim. “Gonna what?” You ask again, wrapping your fist around his cock, letting your thumb run over the silky tip of him. “Pull the truck over? Go on then.”
The truck veers to one side, brakes squealing out as Joel brings it to a stop at the side of the road, tree branches scratching against the windows.
“Slide on over, then,” He says, turning into you, leaning back and opening his legs so that you can climb into his lap.
His gaze is hot and hard and animalistic as you settle against him. You reach between your heaving chests to paw at the button to his jeans but he grabs your wrists, grins at you, eyes glinting.
“I’ll tell you what I’m thinking,” He says, wrapping two solid arms around and pulling you flush to his chest, mouth resting at the shell of your ear. “I’ll tell you everything I’m thinking.”
He buries his mouth at your throat, licks and sucks and nips at the tender flesh there, kneads your ass with his hands.
“I think you’re an impatient little thing who needs to learn some manners,” He says, his voice thick, “and I think I’m gonna take you to the back of this track and fuck you on the tailgate. How does that sound?”
He barely gives you a chance to answer, just tucks your dress out of the way so that he can reach down between your ass cheeks to the wet line of your panties, following the crotch round over your cunt to the hard nub of your clit, already swollen and throbbing under his ministrations.
“Joel, please,” You whine, as he teases you with two of his fingers, circling your entrance but not breaching it.
“You know better than to wear that dress, baby,” he says into your throat, “Oughta be against the law,”
He pulls back, fists a hand in your hair and drags your mouth to his. The kiss is heated and ferocious from the start; Joel pulls your lower lip into his mouth with his teeth, draws out your keening moans with a clever flick of his tongue.
“I need you, Joel, please,” You say, trying again to undo the button on his jeans.
“Ain’t room in here,” He says, reaching over the pop open his door, “in the back, like I said. C’mon.”
You follow him out and round to the back of the truck. He lets the tailgate fall with a soft clunk, takes his jacket off and spreads it out on the dusty metal of the truck bed.
“Hop on up,” He says, shooting you a grin that’s laced with mirth and heat, his eyes crinkling mischievously.
You do as he says, sitting up on the open tailgate. He steps between your thighs, presses them open with two large hands so that he can fit there. Running one hand up your chest to your breast, he presses his clothed cock against the wet line of your panties, circles his hips so that the rough denim catches against your clit and makes you moan.
When he pulls back he takes your panties off, dragging them down your legs with two fingers before pushing them into the pocket of his jeans. It makes your stomach clench, the sight of them peeking out, the pink lace a stark contrast to the worn dark denim, marking you as his. With them out of the way, Joel wastes no time in pressing two fingers into your soaking cunt, grinning down at you as you yelp at the sudden intrusion. It turns into a whimper as he bends them just so, the calloused pads of his fingertips searching out that tender spot inside that has you curling your toes and clawing at his shoulders.
“There she is,” He says, chuckling darkly, pressing the pad of his thumb to your clit and applying a steady, gentle pressure.
It’s intoxicating – the firm pressure of his fingers inside you, the sure, confident thrum of his thumb over your clit. It’s like being drunk on no alcohol, just Joel, his breathy sighs and warm scent enveloping you, wrapping you up in a haze of heady desire.
“Gonna come for me, darlin’?” He asks as he feels you start to tense around him.
He trails his free hand along the side of your jaw, drawing your face back to his so that he can kiss you again, swallow down your moans as you jolt and shake against him, the orgasm rising up suddenly in your belly, sending spikes of ecstasy through your quivering cunt.
“Good girl,” He whispers, drawing his fingers out.
He pulls them up to his mouth, places his fingertips against his lush bottom lip and slides his tongue over them, groaning at the taste of you.
“You wear this dress jus’ for me, baby?” He asks, fisting the fabric between his knuckles as he unbuckles his belt, “Know just how to turn me on, don’t you?”
You nod, watching him pull his cock out of the confines of his jeans. He drags the swollen, weeping head against your folds, drawing air in through his teeth as he does, hissing the breath back out.
“Good girl,” He keens, using the fist that’s clutching your dress to drag you forward in the truck bed so that he can line himself up. “Feel how hard I am for you, hmm, baby? Get me so goddamn worked up I can’t think straight.”
He presses the thick length of himself against you, covering his shaft with your slick. He pulls back slightly, places the fat head of his cock at the entrance of your cunt, curses through his teeth as he inches inside, a drawn out, breathy “fuck, baby”, that has desire coiling up your spine. A muscle jumps in his jaw as you watch his face, watch his eyebrows pull up as he sinks into you, the slight tilt to his mouth, a steady slow breath pouring out of him with the effort of not slamming into you in one hard thrust.
“Okay?” He asks, holding himself still when he bottoms out, waiting for your confirmation that he can keep going.
“Move, Joel, please, God.”
A chuckle echoes deep in his chest at this, and then he wraps his arms under your thighs, pulls you firmly into him and drags himself out before slamming back inside. He sets a punishing pace. It’s all you can do to grip onto his shoulders, dig your fingernails into the firm muscles of his back and let him fuck you, his cock kissing your cervix with each thrust. You watch the beads of perspiration rise on his forehead and cheeks, trace them as they roll down his face to his neck, the tendons there straining as he continues to pound into you. He’s quiet, mostly, grunting and cursing in a rasping voice, fuck, that’s it and Jesus Christ, baby.
“Got the softest pussy I’ve ever felt, darlin’.” He praises you, pressing kisses to your forehead, the side of your neck, groaning as he drags his teeth against your jaw, “gripping me so fucking tight.”
A familiar heat is coiling up inside you again, making your stomach clench and your toes curl in the boots you’re still wearing. Joel knows, can tell by the way you squeeze your eyes tight shut, hands gripping his forearms where they hold your thighs up. He changes the angle, shifts his hips so that his cock hits that spot inside you that has you seeing stars, spikes of pleasure sparking in your cunt right through to the tips of your fingers. You come around his cock, fingernails digging into the hard muscles of his arms, no doubt leaving indents that will mark him as yours when you return to town later.
“That’s it, baby, comin’ all over my cock like a good fuckin’ girl.” He presses his lips to yours, licks his tongue into your mouth, teeth biting into your bottom lip, pain blossoming into pleasure.
He slows his thrusts as you come down from your high, dragging his cock against the roof of your cunt and running a hand up your side, over the curve of your hips up to your breast. He pinches your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, soothes your moans with his mouth on yours, swallowing them as they fall from your lips.
“I know, baby, I know.” He says, picking up the pace again, snapping his hips to yours, fisting his hand into your hair. “Can you give me one more? One more and I’ll come in this perfect cunt, hmm?”
He reaches between your writhing bodies, presses his fingers to the bundle of nerves above where he’s thrusting into you and draws circles over your clit. The pressure is firm and fucking perfect, Joel’s fingers confident and sure in what they’re doing. He knows your body like the back of his hand, has spent hours learning how to make you come. It only takes a few minutes before you feel yourself tightening around his cock again, eyes squeezing shut, but this time he lets go of your thigh with his free hand and grabs your chin.
“Eyes open, baby, I want you to look at me while I make you come.”
And you do, locking your eyes onto his. His pupils are blown wide, eating into the chocolate brown of his irises. His brow is furrowed with the effort of fucking you, making the lines that paint his face stand out. There’s a bead of sweat sliding down one cheek, and he bites his lip between his teeth as you come, cunt clenching around him.
“Fuck, that’s it baby, good girl” He keeps circling his fingers as you come, drawing out your orgasm, his voice vibrating in your chest. “Jesus Christ, I’m gonna come. Shit.”
He groans, holding himself still as he spurts inside you, ropes of come painting your cunt as you contract around him. You’re both breathless then, panting and holding each other, your fingers pinching his skin, his hand tangled in your hair.
“I can’t believe we did that.” You say, suddenly laughing as you realise how reckless you’ve been, out here in the middle of nowhere, Joel’s gun long since forgotten on the back seat of the truck.
“Well, you know better than to wear that dress,” Joel says, pressing his lips to your cheek, the corner of your mouth, the side of your neck. “You make me wanna…”
#joel miller#joel miller fic#joel miller smut#joel x reader#joel x you#the last of us fic#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#pedro pascal#joel miller fanfic#jackson!joel#tlouJackson#SoundCloud
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