#whew that is a scene i would like to see | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rissouu · 4 months ago

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meddle about, ryomen sukuna!

“i’ll take you back to my house so we can meddle about!”

synopsis: you were his brothers teacher whom he always had eyes for, so what happens when he runs into you all alone at a bar?

warnings: sexual content (smut), mentions of drinking, mentions of smoking, obsession, stalking (kinda?), sukuna being pussy whipped, slight breeding kink, possessiveness, baby trapping (?), and etc!

authors note: whew this is a lot.. if you’re uncomfy w any warnings pls leave now. yuji is a teeny tiny baby in this, around 3-5. other than thatttt enjoy! i might make this a series. not the best smut i’ve ever written but ehhh it’s alright, pretty long btw! and if i made typos.. don’t be a bitch just ignore it lol.

“yuji you little shit!” sukuna tried to chase after the running child, but almost tripped in the process. “im gonna fuckin’ kill you.” he was lucky enough that no one was around to see, but that didn’t make him feel any better. this kid sure was going to be the death of him.

yuji’s laughter filled the air, along with small repetitive claps because he almost saw his big brother fall. under different circumstances maybe sukuna would be laughing along with him, but not now.

the last thing he wanted was to cause a scene in front of the boy’s school— even though that was technically what was happening.

“fast as heck boiii!” the small child laughed, continuing to run around and twirl in circles. he never took anything seriously, part of the reason sukuna had such a hard time with him. but he was a child after all, so what can you expect?

it was hard for him to maintain his patience with the child.. but it wasn’t anything he hadn’t dealt with before.

“get over here now so i can tie your shoes, boy.” he added a light sternness to his voice, hoping that would be enough to get the kid to listen for once.

yuji stared back at him with a look of boredom, one that sukuna matched almost instantly. the boys were too stubborn for their own good.

“okay kuna!” at first sukuna thought he was trying to trick him but the kid actually complied.. looks like the stern voice worked after all.

sukuna finally felt comfortable with escorting the boy to class once his shoes were properly tied. he didn’t need that little brat tripping and falling on his ass. “you got all your shit in that ugly backpack of yours right?”

“yup yup. wanna go to school now, wanna see ms. (l/n), and all my friends!” he cheered— a cheeky smile on his face like always. sukuna’s brows raised at that, ms. (l/n) huh? he was always curious as to who you were.

obviously you were a teacher of yuji’s. but with the way the kid always talked about you, he couldn’t help but wonder what you looked like. maybe today would finally be the day he got a glimpse of his competition?

according to yuji, you and sukuna were his favorite people in the whole wide world. not including his best friends megumi and nobara, that is!

sukuna always got jealous when the little brat talked about you. because every time he did, there was this unrecognizable glint in his eyes. one that he never gave sukuna or anyone else for that matter. who wouldn’t be jealous?

“alright kid, let’s get you to class.” sukuna gripped him by the back of his paw patrol hoodie, and dragged him along through the open gates. no wonder it wasn’t very crowded outside, school started thirty minutes ago.

he knew the class number by heart because of how much yuji brought it up at home, the kid really did love his school.

room 304. when they finally made it, yuji wasted no time busting in the classroom with that signature smile of his. every head turned in his direction and nearly every kid was up and greeting him. that’s yuji alright, he always had a way of making everyone he met love him.

sukuna stood in the door frame with a blank stare on his face, eyes doting around the room for the teacher who’s name was already embedded into his brain.

“aww yuji, glad to see you made it!” a light voice called out, causing sukuna’s head to snap in it’s direction. “i managed to save you your favorite doughnut before everyone snagged them all,”

almost in an instant, that familiar glint of happiness took over the boy’s vision. and before you knew it he was ditching his friends and running towards you.

“ms. l/nnn, i missed you lots!” his perky voice dragged out, tiny arms wrapping around your knee because that’s all he could reach.

when sukuna’s eyes met your soft ones, everything finally clicked. now he knew why the brat loved you so damn much. it took everything in him to not fall to his knees right then and there, you were ethereal.

one of the prettiest girls he’s ever seen in his lifetime, he felt like he’d been blessed to even be receiving a glance back from you. your bright smile, that contagious laugh, and that perfect pretty face. he couldn’t believe someone like you even existed.

you gave sukuna a small smile before picking up yuji, placing him on your hip. the kid was so busy munching on his donut he didn’t even notice he was off of the ground.

sukuna maintained his look of boredom, he couldn’t let himself be too affected by your beauty. he had more self-control than that. the clacking of heels snapped him out of his thoughts, where were you going? fuck were you heading over to him?

‘fuck fuck fuck fuck’ his mind chanted the words like it was a mantra. he didn’t have much time to register— or prepare, before you were in his face with his brother accompanying you.

“hey, i don’t think we’ve ever met!” your head tilted, taking in the appearance of the man before you. no doubt him and yuji were related, they looked almost exactly alike. “i’m ms. (l/n), yuji’s teacher for the year!”

he wanted to say he already knew your name, first and last from how much the little brat always talked about you, but he decided against it.

“nice to meet you, im sukuna. and that brat’s my little brother,” the older man pointed to the boy who was resting comfortably in her arms, still downing his doughnut.

“well it’s nice to meet you too, sukuna.” you held a free hand out to greet him, and it took a while for him to process it all. you almost thought he was going to leave you hanging.. but he proved you wrong, putting his firm and tattooed hand in yours.

the touch of him lit something in you, what was this feeling? and when the hell did it get so hot all of a sudden??

“you’ve got a real great little brother here, he’s so well behaved!” you pinched the boy’s cheeks, enchanted by his cute smile. tch. like hell, if only you knew how much of a actor the kid was.

“yeah he can be pretty great.. sometimes,” just saying it felt foreign to him.. but he supposed it wasn’t too bad. he never gave yuji praise, so what’s the harm in doing it just this once?

your beautiful smile was almost enough to have him return it, but he hated smiling. the only person who’d ever made him smile was his little brother, a real demon in disguise.

“my bad that he’s so late. do i need to sign him in?” sukuna questioned, knowing that schools usually had a sign in and sign out system.

you paused for a second, “no it’s fine, ill do it for you! i know you’re probably tired of being cramped up in here already.”

surprisingly he actually wasn’t. he enjoyed this little conversation the two of you had, even if it was short and just formalities. “thank you for that, i appreciate it.” his hand came up to his brother’s hair— giving it a small ruffle.

“ill see you later, brat. make sure you behave yourself,” the stern voice came out again, but ever so slightly. yuji’s chubby cheeks scrunched up and he smiled the biggest smile of them all.

“yes kuna, ill be good! want some doughnut?” his small hands held a piece of his donut to his older brother’s mouth, and sukuna opened his mouth slightly.

your heart warmed at their interaction, it was too cute. who knew yuji had an older brother? at first, you made the mistake of thinking sukuna was his dad.. but it actually made sense that he wasn’t. his demeanor gave off older brother much more than dad.

sukuna gave his brother one last goodbye before turning his attention back to you, his piercing gaze making you want to disappear.

it was silent for a while, neither of you knowing what to say to the other. it was you who finally broke the silence, something you were unmistakably good at.

“well i guess this is goodbye, sukuna.. unless you want to stick around with me and these little ones?” you teased, your lips forming in a small smirk.

hanging around in a room filled with brats who are possibly even more annoying than yuji? no thank you.

“yeah im gonna pass..” he scratched the back of his head, causing a bubbly laugh to form in your throat. god your laugh was so cute. it was just as contagious as yuji’s, which is why he couldn’t stop himself from laughing along with you.

“that’s fair! kids can really be a handful.” you smiled. there was something about this man.. something that made you want more. it was very unlike you, but you found yourself wanting to see him again.

and little did you know, he felt the exact same.

ever since that day he met you, he hasn’t been able to get you out of his head. that welcoming smile, your wonderful scent, those pretty eyes.. everything about you had him going insane.

he ran into you again a few times after that. sukuna usually dropped yuji off at the gate instead of walking him to class, now he walks him to class every day. all in hopes to see you again.

it’s been working for the most part.. but he needed more. just seeing you and talking to you were no longer enough, he was stuck.

sukuna had no idea on how to advance whatever this thing the two of you had was. he wasn’t delusional, you definitely felt the same as he did.. even if only a little bit.

his other brother— choso, noticed his frustrations and suggested they go out for once. that’s how he ended up in this loud and crowded bar, drinking all of his problems away.

yuji was with his grandparents so he didn’t have to worry about that brat too much. the kid was in great hands for the night.

“so are you gonna tell me what has you so..” the black haired man paused for a moment, thinking of a right word for it. “disoriented?” just the thought of it had sukuna sighing.

he took a snag of his drink, getting ready for a little ‘therapy session’. choso had always been the brother that likes to solve other people’s problems. he may have been younger but he was definitely more mature than sukuna.

“it’s yuji’s fuckin’ teacher, (y/n) (l/n).” he spat. “i can’t get her out of my damn head. the little minx,” now this.. was intriguing. choso couldn’t help the smile forming, or the low chuckle that followed after. “the fucks so funny?”

“i just wouldn’t expect you to be this worked up over some girl, that’s all.” choso waved his hands in defense, but he did have a point.

the infamous ryomen sukuna stressed over some elementary teacher he barely even knew? who would’ve thought…

“well the sukuna i know wouldn’t just be sitting here, he’d do something about it.” choso shrugged— hoping he actually talked some sense into his brother. it was hard to get through to sukuna because of how stubborn he was. he never liked to listen to anybody, or abide by any rules.

the more he thought about it the more he realized choso was right. he’s ryomen fucking sukuna, the man who always gets whatever he wants. and in this case, what he wanted was you.

choso downed the rest of his drink, while staring intently at his older brother. he knew sukuna more than almost anyone, choso was positive his brother would get what he wanted sooner or later.

“how about you go get us some more drinks, im gonna need em’ if im to deal with your shit.” he slid the glass cup across the table which sukuna stopped with ease.

if it were anybody else talking to him like that, sukuna probably would’ve killed them. but this was choso so he let it slide, “shut up, kid. i’ll get your stupid fuckin’ drink.”

without waiting for a reply, he walked off. this bar was so humid, and there were people all over the place. playing pool, making out, passed out, you name it.

in times like these sukuna couldn’t help but think about you. what were you doing right now? were you thinking about him as much as he was thinking about you? all these questions he would probably never know the answer to, and it pissed him off.

“can i get a light vodka, with a side of lime please!” an awfully familiar voice called out, making sukuna stop dead in his tracks. it took everything in him to not drop both glass cups onto the floor. he’d know that voice from anywhere, it was you. but what were you doing here?

you didn’t notice him yet which he was thankful for, he looked like a star struck little kid. but when he did finally get himself together, your name was the first thing to fall from his lips. “(y/n)?”

your head perked up at that, looking around until your eyes finally met his. no way.. why was he here?!

“sukuna! what are you doing here?!” you exclaimed— that pretty smile taking its natural place on your face.

he eyed you dangerously, taking in every ounce of your appearance. you wore a skin tight dress that was a bit too short for his liking, and with the way you were sitting he almost had a full view of your ass cheek. the man didn’t know whether to be aroused, or pissed off.

“i came here with my brother to get out for a bit. what are you doing here?” that was the question he wanted answered. you were here alone, with a dress that barely passed as clothing at all. were you on some type of fuckin’ date or something?

before answering his question, you grabbed his hand and pulled him down into the seat that was closest to yours. you wouldn’t admit it but.. you only did it because you didn’t like that he was so far away.

his eyes lit up when your hand met his, he felt like he was going to die. sukuna couldn’t tell because of how good you were at playing it off, but you were eying his appearance as well.

he wore a fitted black shirt, with black jeans to match, and not to mention the silver chains around his neck to bring it all together. nearly every arm tattoo he had was on full display and it was doing something to you.

it took everything in you to not pounce on him right here, right now. and sukuna felt the exact same, watching your eyes take him in as he gave you a look of pure lust.

the sexual tension was so strong almost anyone could sense it, you knew for a fact what would happen if you guys kept this up. you needed to snap out of it, before you did the unthinkable.

“uhm so, you have other brothers?” you crossed your legs while rubbing the skin on your arm. you were starting to get chills from this man, what was he doing to you?

“there’s yuji, then there’s choso who’s closer to my age.” he pointed to the table where his brother was glaring daggers into you both. his glare was almost as scary as sukuna’s, what the fuck was up with these two?

“don’t mind him staring like that..” he mentally rolled his eyes, he should’ve known. choso could be fairly nosey at times, sukuna figured he probably pieced it all together by now. “he’s just not a people person.”

you chuckled at the fact that he really wasn’t either, but sukuna didn’t laugh along with you this time. “you still didn’t answer my question,” his head tilted to the side as his eyes worked their way down your whole body.

“why’re you here all by yourself?” you looked off to the side letting out a slight sigh. well you very well couldn’t tell him the truth. that you were on your way home but saw his car parked here, and decided to pay a visit. you’d look like a fucking psycho. “same as you kind of. i just wanted to get out of the house.”

he gave a soft hum to that, nodding his head. for some reason he just didn’t believe you, and you could tell. a pretty thing like yourself coming to a bar like this all alone, just for the hell of it? no. you weren’t telling the truth. sukuna knew it, and so did you— but neither of you were willing to speak up about it.

“i’ve been thinking about you a lot since we met, y’know?” his eyes never left your soft ones, and he wanted nothing more than to kiss all over your pretty little face. to sukuna, you were already his. he just needed you to finally accept it.

you felt your heart beating even faster than before, and now the chills weren’t just on your arms but your whole body. you need to pull it together. you’re finally getting the chance that you’ve been longing for, and you weren’t letting it go to waste.

“ive been thinking about you too, sukuna.. a lot more than i should be.” you tried to hide the small tremble in your voice, but he could see right through you. how cute of you to try and put on a brave voice for him though.

“you wanna get out of here?” and there it was. the words you’ve been dying to hear ever since he came up to you. your pussy throbbed just looking at him— it always did. since the day you two first met and every time you’ve seen him since then, she just gets wet.

at first you thought it was nothing. but the more you saw him, the more you talked to him, and the more you heard that enticing voice of his.. you knew. you wanted this man, no. you needed this man.

“yes please.” you whispered, and that was all the clarification he needed. he was right, you wanted him in the same ways he wanted you. a cheeky grin spread across his lips and within an instant he was grabbing your hand and pulling you from your seat.

as much as he wanted to hurry and get you to his place, he needed to borrow something from choso first. sukuna slid his arm across your waist on the walk back to his table, he needed all these bastards to know who you belonged to.

choso’s lazy smile was the first thing he saw once he reached the table, but the smile dropped as soon as he saw there was no drink in his brothers hand. “hey where the hell is my drink?”

“gonna have to get it yourself,” sukuna shrugged before pulling down part of your dress that was rising in the back. “let me borrow your jacket really quick.” he pointed to the coat that was hanging on an empty chair, and choso knew better than to question him.

without saying anything he handed the coat over, and took a glance at you. it was a cold stare, just like before when you were sitting at the bar. “hey, im choso. his little brother that he’s too rude to introduce.”

you smiled ever so slightly, giving him a small wave. “hi im (y/n)! nice to meet you.” that name was all he needed to hear for a small smile to reappear. he knew his brother could do it, he just needed a little push.

sukuna didn’t know how much longer he could wait, he needed to get out of here now, both of you did. he could tell you were getting antsy as well.

“we don’t have time to stay around and chit chat.” sukuna sighed. he left some money on the table to pay for both him and his brothers expenses, and bided choso a small goodbye to which he returned.

on the way out he could feel the glances of old and drunk men staring you down in that tiny ass dress you had on. he hated it.

the pink haired man growled out a string of curse words before taking the jacket, and wrapping it around you. “keep this on until we get to my place. i don’t want any of these fuckers looking at you, ever if i can help it.”

the tone of his voice and how protective he was over you had you even hornier than before. how was this even fucking possible? this man was driving you absolutely crazy. “sukuna please hurry, i need you.” you whined, and gripped onto his arm.

with the position you were in he could feel your tits right against chest, he almost wanted to say fuck it and bend you over right across the bar counter.

“fuck woman, gotta’ be patient for me okay? ill give you what you want soon enough.”

as soon as sukuna got the door open, your lips were on his almost immediately. the two of you were tripping over your own steps, but neither of you cared. the man picked you up with ease— refusing to take his lips off of yours.

once he made it to his room he wasted no time tossing you onto his bed, and ripping off your dress in the process.

sukuna had no mercy when it came to ripping it. “hate this fuckin’ dress, got everybody staring at you and shit.” his anger only got worse once he remembered the looks of all the guys in the bar.

“mhmm want you s’bad,” you bit your lip while bringing a hand down to your panties, attempting to get some type of friction.. but sukuna wasn’t allowing it.

sukuna gently slapped your hand out of the way, “don’t touch it, only me okay?” the whines of frustration you let out sent blood straight to his dick, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold back for much longer.

his hands gripped on the waistband of your panties and ripped them away with so much ease. why were you clothes so easy to rip? and more importantly, why did he keep ripping them?!

just the sight of your pussy alone could’ve had him cumming right on the spot. it’s even prettier than he imagined.

you found yourself getting shy from how intense he was staring, so you shut your legs. maybe he didn’t like it? was he rethinking his decision to bring you back to his home?

“tch. who told you to close them, you brat?” he spat. his hands shoved them back apart, making a gasp fall from your throat. he was so rough, and you loved every second of it.

he took a good look at your glistening folds— savoring every second of this moment. he’d waited long enough after all. without any warning his lips latched onto your thigh, gently kissing on the soft skin.

the biting didn’t come until after he remembered all those fuckers from the bar. he needed to mark you, stake his claim on you before anyone else got the chance.

“n..no more teasing sukuna! need you. right here,” your hand grazed over your pussy, gathering some of your wetness along the way. you stuck your hand in your mouth after— sucking on it slowly while staring straight in his eyes.

he grinned, amused by your little show. “nasty ass girl. call me ryomen,” your pussy clenched at the mention of his first name, that you never knew. “hm? she likes my name doesn’t she?”

you nodded hysterically, patiently waiting for the man in front of you to finally stop with all the teasing. you’ve wanted this since the first day you met him.. now it was finally happening.

his warm breath hitched over your pussy as he placed small kisses over your clit— the juices getting all over his lips. he spat a glob of spit onto your folds, watching it slowly fall down in fascination.

it wasn’t long before he went back to his attack on your pussy, pushing his tongue into your tight little hole causing you to squirm. your hand met the back of his head, pushing his mouth closer to your cunt— if that was even possible.

“such a pretty ass pussy you got here, all f’me huh?” he used his hands to spread your lips— giving him more access to all your sweet spots. “yes ryo yes! mm, all for you!”

you were this fucked out already and he hadn’t even stuck his dick in you yet? he couldn’t help the chuckle falling from his lips, “think it’s time i get serious,”

the man took his thumb and circled it around your clit, softly flicking it in the process. one look at you had his dick even harder. drool was dripping down your chin, and your bra was slightly ripped open from his previous assault on your dress. now he even had a clear view of those perfect tits of yours.

“want you to play with your tits for me, princess.” he coated his finger in spit and pushed it inside of you, watching your face scrunch up. “did ya’ hear me brat? can you do that f’me?”

when he added a second finger, you felt like you were already on cloud 9. and you didn’t even get a taste of his cock yet, you just knew you were in for it.

“f..fuck yes, i can do that. i’ll do it for you!” your hands slid up your stomach, and up to your tits that were already so sensitive because of the cold. you squeezed them gently while locking eyes him, your juices dripping down his chin was enough to push you over the edge.

once you felt him curve his fingers, it was over. you couldn’t hold back the familiar pit in your stomach for any longer. your hips moved on their own, and right now they were grinding against his thick fingers, longing for more of that overwhelming pleasure. “‘m gonna cum ryomen, ohh fuck!”

the way his name sounded falling off you lips had him going berserk. sukuna felt you getting tighter around his fingers, and just before he got the chance to pull them out.. you were already cumming, a silent scream to go along with it.

with a hiss, he took his fingers out of you as strands of cum dripped down his hand. “who gave you permission to do that, you damned brat?” the man gave your pussy a light smack, causing your whole body to jerk.

“mm stop, ‘m sensitive now!” you tried to shut your legs, but he was quick to give your thigh a slap. “keep this shit open (y/n).”

a small whimper fell from your lips as you followed his orders and kept your legs open to his liking. he brought his hand with your cum on it up to his mouth, and wasted no time licking it clean. “tastes so fuckin’ good, shittt.”

you tugged on his shirt, trying to get it off and getting frustrated when you couldn’t. “wan’ this off ryo, take it off.” he gave you a stare that you didn’t recognize and took his shirt off, revealing his chest to you.

he had tattoos in almost every corner of his body, and he was absolutely ripped. you’d be lying if you said your pussy wasn’t throbbing at the sight. “wanna touch ‘em mama? you can,”

you ran your hand across his chest slowly, feeling every ounce of muscle he had. from abs, to biceps, to v line.. it wasn’t long before you were tugging on his pants too, letting him know you wanted those off next. to which he chuckled, but still did as you said and slid them off.

now all he was left in was his boxers and that was next to go. this time you didn’t have to say anything, he already knew. his boxers were off in an instant, and next thing you knew he was hovering over you.

“you sure you want this brat.. not gonna take it easy on you y’know?” it was sweet, but you didn’t care about any of that. in this moment right now.. you’d let this man do whatever to you. “‘s okay baby. i jus’ want you, need you to fill me up so bad.”

those words alone were enough for him. he gave you a cheeky smile and wrapped your thighs around him, slowly slapping his tip on your aching clit.

you looked so pretty like this. sprawled out on his bed, all eager and ready for him. if sukuna had it his way you’d be like this everyday. he was mesmerized by the way your pussy clenched at the smallest of things, “so fuckin’ perfect.”

your soft hands rested on your thighs as you held them apart in anticipation. his words only added onto your fire.. and you didn’t know how much longer you could take this.

when the man in front of you finally decided to make his first move, your eyes almost plunged out of your head. with a slow rock of his hips he was already sliding inside of you with ease, being careful not to overwhelm you.

once he was in, your gummy walls involuntarily clenched at the intrusion. it hurt. you nearly had the sensitivity of a virgin because of how long it’s been since you last had sex— and the size of him wasn’t making things any better.

to sukuna, this was heaven. he had to stop himself from cumming right there on the spot. with the way your deprived little cunt clamped down on him every other second, he definitely wasn’t going to last.

“fuck girl,” he let out a tight lipped grunt while giving your thigh a small smack. “lemme in, gotta relax for me yeah?” it was true you did need to relax, your whole body was tense and shaking, and he hadn’t even moved yet.

“‘m sorry.. can’t help it.” small whines left your mouth and you found yourself finally calming down— body included. when you weren’t as stiff anymore, sukuna took that as his sign to move.

cold yet comforting hands rested on your stomach, playing with the tiny pudge. sukuna couldn’t stop his mind from wondering.. you’d look even prettier with your tummy all swollen.

the room was filled with the sounds of skin clapping, and you choking on your own spit. you were already going brain dead.. and sukuna wasn’t far behind. the divine man was already so caught up in his own little fantasy.

what if he didn’t pull out tonight.. what if he got you pregnant and glued to him for life? yeah, that sounded like a perfect idea. he’s always been a selfish man, and this situation was no different. how else would he make sure you never left him?

the pace of his strokes only got sloppier, rougher. before you knew it he had one of your legs over his shoulders, and he left a litter of kisses starting from your calves all the way down to your feet. every inch of this perfect body was his, and he wasn’t going to stop until you realized it too.

“this..” he started off, bringing his hand down to massage your poor puffy clit. “and this..” now his hands were groping at your chest as he brought his lips toward your perfect tits. the realization that he barely payed them any attention had him quickly latching his mouth onto your nipple— somewhat eager like a baby.

his mouth was tired and red from all the attacks on your body, but he didn’t care. all the pain was worth it if it meant bringing you pleasure.. that’s how head over heels he was. he only pulled away after he’d given both of your nipples a soft bite, and his eyes never left yours.

ah, how could he forget? the most important part. “this too,” he grinned, and within a split second both of his hands were on your stomach— pressing down onto the lower area. “it’s all fuckin’ mine, you hear brat? nobody else gets this shit,”

your face twisted at the random feeling of pressure, it was too much. answering his question was the very last thing on your mind. right now all you could think about was getting this man out of you before you lost it. a mix of tears and drool dripped down your face, and onto your exposed body.

“oh s..shit ryo please! ‘s too much, can’t take it!” your shaking hands went to his stomach, eagerly trying to push him away. “mm ‘m gonna fuckin’ pee if you don’t quit it!”

he growled at your measly attempt at pushing him away, and wasted no time slapping your hands away. who the fuck did you think you were? trying to push him out of such a heavenly cunt like yours?

“don’t do that again.” the tone of his voice made it clear that it was an order, and something that you should definitely follow, or else. “where’d my good girl go, hm?” he cooed, a small pout on his lips.

he brought his thumb to your clit and flicked it slowly, but not before wrapping his hand around your throat as a means to trap you. the tip of his dick hit against your cervix over, and over, and over again— making your jaw drop in response. and the smirk forming on his lips couldn’t be any bigger.. he finally found it.

“that’s your spot mama. feels good?” you mindlessly babbled through your spit as he wiped away the stream of tears on your pretty face. “yes y..yes yes right there, oh fuck!” your legs wrapped around him on their own, craving for the man in front of you to be even closer.

with the way your pussy was clamping down on him more aggressively than before, he could tell you were almost at your limit. perfect.

“gonna cum so deep in this tight lil’ pussy, fill you up til’ you’re round n’ swollen with my babies.” you let out the lewdest whine at his words, feeling the pressure in your stomach suddenly snap. “you’re so good with kids, so good with yuji. think it’s time you have some of your own, hm? gonna be the best mama ever,” the whole time he was fucking you, a hand always stayed glued to your stomach.

if it weren’t for your addicting cunt sucking him in, or that pretty little face of yours, your stomach would probably be his favorite thing about you. and that’s only because of the fantasies he had, that he’d be fulfilling tonight.

“p..please ryo, wanna have all your babies- fuck ‘m gonna cum!” you let out heavy breaths as sukuna pressed down on your lower stomach— again. your legs shook at the un-welcomed pressure, and before you knew it, you were squirting all over him. stomach, thighs, dick, you name it. every inch of his lower body was covered in your juices, and he couldn’t be happier.

call him crazy, but sukuna wished he could scoop up the liquid, and put it in a jar or something to preserve it. he wanted a memory of the very first time you squirted for him, even though it surely wouldn’t be the last.

“f..fuck woman. who knew my brother’s teacher was such a slut,” his rough hand tightened around your neck as he felt himself twitching inside you. from the looks of it, he wasn’t too far behind.

your mouth was still wide and filled with spit, runny mascara dripping down your cheeks all the way to your neck. you looked an absolute mess, but in sukuna’s eyes.. you were the prettiest like this.

“f..fuck brat, you don’t know what you do to me.” when he got a look at your messy-fucked out face, he couldn’t stop the throaty groan from arising. without any warning he was releasing his load into you, finally filling your hole full of his cum. “look at that shit,”

he looked down at his dick— watching it disappear inside of you only to come out with a ring of cream coating it. “she’s milkin’ me fuckin’ dry,” you mewled in response, taking both hands and placing them on his chest.

“no more okay? ‘m tired baby.. no more,” when he finally pulled out of you, a series of liquids leaked out and he was mesmerized. sukuna had you right where he wanted you, on his bed with his cum dripping down your sweet cunt. the man made a mental note to get a plug for next time.

before you were even able to get a break in, sukuna lowered his head right between your thighs. he just wanted to give her his thanks for taking him so well.

“just wanna talk to her for a bit.. that alright with you mama?” your head titled in confusion, but nonetheless you let him do as he pleased before letting your eyes finally close.

small kisses being left on your pussy had you stirring in your somewhat ‘sleep’. what the hell was he doing?

“mhmm you said talking not kissing ryo. you liar,” you used your foot to push him away and he couldn’t help but to laugh. you were never usually this whiney, but when it came to your sleep you didn’t care.

“she’s just so tempting,” he left one more kiss to your clit before trailing his way up to your stomach until he’d finally had his fill. “cmon my brat, let’s go get you cleaned up.”

if you weren’t pregnant with his seed in the next two weeks, he’d just have to try again until it takes.

bonus.

“oh gosh, no way!” yuji exclaimed as soon as he walked in the door with sukuna trailing behind him. the small boy didn’t even bother to take his coat off because he saw you— his teacher at his house and in the kitchen cooking dinner. the first thing he thought to do was run to you and hug you, so that’s exactly what he did.

tiny hands made up motions at you, and you knew that meant he wanted to be picked up. “ms. (l/n)!! why’re you at my house, i missed you!” his hands were clapping and you cooed at his chubby cheeks and missing teeth.

“call me (y/n) when we’re not at school yuji,” you pinched his cheeks. “me and sukuna are.. friends now, he invited me over.”

sukuna leaned over the counter, a scowl forming on his face. “tch, friends my ass.” he whispered, more to himself than anyone else. just hearing those words come from your mouth had him wanting to set the world ablaze.

yuji’s mouth dropped in an ‘O’ motion, and not long after he was wiggling his eyebrows with a small smirk on his face. “friends.. like boyfriend and girlfriend?” your lips parted to correct him, but sukuna beat you to it.

“yeah you little shit, she’s stayin’ with us forever and ever. guess i have two brats to deal with now,” and possibly another he wanted to add, but decided against it.

your heart warmed at his small speech, did he really mean all of that? a smile fell over your lips, and when your eyes met his you knew it was genuine. the glint in his eyes told you everything you needed to know.

“yayyy, my two favorite people in the whole wide universe!! (y/n) and kuna!”

©rissouu 2024 (if you steal my shit i will get your ip and fuckin end you ^_^, this is a threat.)

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megamindsecretlair · 2 months ago

Text

Dance in the Dark

Pairing: Ghostface!Terry Richmond x Sub!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Cursing, Dom!Terry, mean Terry, SMUT, PWP, PIV, oral (male receiving), fingering (female receiving), knife kink, hair pulling, praise kink, degradation kink, breeding kink if you squint, all consensual. Sorry if I missed some.

Summary: One drunken night, you giggle with your friends as you dared each other to sign up for a fetish dating website that matched your kinks with others. The site took its reputation seriously so you knew that the man on the other side of the screen was real. And he really was that gorgeous. Terry acknowledges that it's time to meet and he makes sure this Halloween is unforgettable.

Word Count: 6,350k

AO3 Link

A/N: WHEW. I'll see myself out on this one. Chilleeee. I need to hose myself down. Enjoy and Happy Halloween, my loves. Taking a much needed break after this one! Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

📥 New Message

You continued to swing back and forth on your gamer chair, grabbing your phone and immediately swiping on the message.

TJ: I look forward to tonight.

You shrieked and bit your nail, pulling your legs in towards you as far as they would go. When that grew uncomfortable, you lifted your sock-clad feet to the edge. It dug into your arch but your mind was only focused on one Mr. Terry Richmond.

It shouldn’t have thrilled you so much to receive a message from him. It had started out as a simple dare with your friends, each of you making a profile on a fetish connection website and laughing at all the desperate men.

You never expected to actually run across someone who looked like him. You thought he was fake or a bot. You thought AI had crept its way into the dating scene, preying on unsuspecting lonely people. The checkmark next to his name let you know that he was, in fact, very much real.

The website took its privacy and its reputation very seriously, vetting all members that signed up. You included. Anyone could message first, the app offering potential matches based on answers to the questionnaire on start up.

You and your friends had giggled, deliriously drunk while you answered the questions. Some you kept to yourself. Not because you were embarrassed, but because you were kind of taking it seriously. You wanted to see what was out there for someone like you, someone who desperately wanted to hand over control to someone capable of leading.

You: Me too.

TJ: Did the box arrive?

You sucked in a rush of air since you forgot to breathe. Over the course of the past few weeks, you shared many messages with Terry. Told each other everything really. You always managed to skirt around talking about the obvious. That you were on a fetish dating website and looking for someone to take control.

You discussed books you’ve read or music you listened to. No matter how silly your tastes, Terry wanted to hear it all. You always felt heard with him. Understood by him. And it made your crush sink further in your chest and take root. Blossom into a full on obsession with his pictures.

He was a private man, evident by his profile that you visited at least ten times a day. Eleven if you had enough time to stroke yourself to his pictures. He didn’t have many, but he had a few of him in the gym and of him hiking. He had one thirst trap picture of him in a berry shirt, staring at the camera with crushing intensity.

As you grew more serious, Terry began to switch up the conversations. Naturally sliding in his dominant nature by telling you to do things. He did it so subtly, so minutely, that you hadn’t known what was going on until he was ordering you not to touch yourself anymore and you actually obeyed. All from texts.

You stared at his latest message, panties growing damp from how excited he made you. The past week, he decided that it was time to meet in person. You were obviously nervous, but every time you thought of it, your thighs tingled and your pussy throbbed.

You: I got everything.

TJ: Good. I want you to relax tonight.

You giggled breathlessly in the comfort of your room, chewing on your nail. This couldn’t be real. This couldn’t be your life. It would be hard to relax knowing that Terry could slip in at any time. Show off those mysterious Marine skills he talked about on his profile.

You: You really don’t find this weird?

TJ: What’s weird about it? It’s healthy.

TJ: Besides, I’ve been fighting an erection all week thinking about tonight.

“God,” you moaned out loud.

It turned you on even more that he was so open with his desire for you. You were used to weak men constantly trying to play it cool. Play it smart. Act as if they were doing you a favor by being with you. You always knew that a real man wouldn’t pretend. He’d be real. And Terry was real.

You: It’s been so hard not touching myself. 😣

TJ: You didn’t, did you?

You: Noooo 😇

TJ: Am I sensing a brat? A little late in the game to introduce curveballs.

You giggled at your phone, nearly kicking your feet. You were obsessed. You had a job where you couldn’t even try to sneak and be on your phone. Rules were important and you always felt like you had a neon sign professing your guilt whenever you broke a single one. But you were always itching to look at your phone. To see if there was a new message from him or a new command.

Once, he made you stop what you were doing and go to the nearest bathroom to edge yourself. You’d never done anything like that before and you had been so nervous, but fuck, you had been close to cumming. It was impossible to stop yourself but somehow you did.

Another time, he wanted you to take your sexiest picture. You had been fussing and fawning over the correct one, loving them all but you weren’t sure which one would appeal to him. Then it dawned on you. It was about what appealed to you.

After that, you took a teasing photo showing just enough but hiding a lot more. You wore a black bra and panty set and sat on your haunches, letting your thick thighs widen. You tilted your head and gave him a shy smile. The minute the picture went off, you knew it was a good one.

You sent it to him and he sent you a picture back five minutes later showing a puddle of cum on his office desk. This man drove you wild, stimulated your brain in the best possible way. You hadn’t ever known a man to seduce your mind the way he seduced all your other senses.

He sent a few voice notes, enough to understand the cadence of his speech while he issued out small orders. It wasn’t always sexual. Sometimes he wanted you to go to bed early, grab you some tea, or run you a hot bath because you had a body ache earlier.

You: Moi? A brat. I know not what you mean.

An alarm went off on your phone letting you know that it was past time to start getting ready. The first part of Terry's carefully thought out night was that you took a bath, paid attention to your body, relaxed with a glass of wine and unwound from the day.

Hell, that sounded relaxing just on general principle. You took your phone with you into the bathroom, turning on the light and getting the bath started. You added your favorite scent, pouring a healthy dollop of bath soap into the steaming water.

You hummed as you moved around the space, gathering a plush cream towel big enough to fit around your body. Comfort items had to be one of your platonic love languages. You loved soft things. From blanket hoodies, to bath towels, to throw blankets.

You lit a candle as the water ran, white bubbles foaming on the surface of the water. You went to the kitchen and poured your favorite glass of wine, swirling the liquid in your wine glass. You sniffed the glass and took in the subtle notes and highlights.

You hooked up your phone to your bathroom speaker on your way back to the bathroom, turning on some grown and sexy music. Terry wanted you to relax, then you were going to relax.

You told him you were hopping in the bath and he responded quickly.

TJ: Take your time, beautiful.

Your heart fluttered and you sighed, wondering how the hell you got so lucky. Truly, what kind, divine act did you commit to land someone like Terry? You had to pinch yourself as you took off your clothes.

Your silk short shorts and tank top slid down your body, tingling in some areas from how hyper aware you were. You sat on a hand towel on the edge of the tub and ran your fingers through the water. Just a few more minutes before it was perfect.

You grabbed the last candle you used, the smell of spearmint eucalyptus filling the space even if it wasn’t lit. You used an electric lighter to light it. The soft glow played across your hands and you took a deep breath.

Tonight already did wonders for your frayed nerves. Taking the time to soak everything in helped you relax in a way only journaling could accomplish. You needed more nights like these, nights that were just for you.

You tucked your hair into a bonnet and then sunk into the bath, moaning at the hot water touching your cool skin. The water sloshed as you carefully sat down, leaning your back against the back of your tub and moaning once more.

This felt entirely too good. “Falsetto” by the Dream played and you sank further into the water, lighting washing yourself at first. You started with a face mask, smattering the cream on your face. You let that sit while you washed the rest of your body.

With every area that you washed, you wondered which areas Terry would pay attention to. Was he an ass man? Titties man? Thighs man? You had your impressions but you didn’t want to get too caught up in the fantasy. If tonight went well, you hoped to turn this into a full time thing if he was game.

You didn’t have to date on top of it, but god, you wouldn’t say no either. Wouldn’t say no to living life the way you needed to. Being at the mercy of someone who knew what to do with it. How to handle you. How to take all of your stress and worries and let you know what peace felt like. You wanted to do the same for him.

You wanted to be the one he sought out when he had a bad day. Or when he just needed some stress relief. When the world got too loud and unfair and the only thing he could control was whether or not you came.

You wanted that push and pull and you wanted it desperately with Terry. You only hoped he was game as well. He said he wasn’t talking to others on the app and you wanted to believe him. You also wouldn’t blame him if he were lying. You only needed him to be safe and careful.

He sent over his latest test results showing that he was clean. He told you from the onset that he hated condoms. He enjoyed the feeling of pussy wrapped around his dick. You were on the pill and showed him your results as well. Somehow, he even made getting tested sexy.

After your bath, you took time shaving the important bits. You rubbed your favorite lotion and perfume together and then rubbed it into your skin. Your skin prickled. When would he do it?

When you were in bed? When you were in the kitchen? When you were on your way out of the bathroom? You looked towards your bathroom door. It was slightly ajar, your dark hallway beyond.

He could be there now, watching you just beyond the shadows. It should scare you. Yet it only made your skin flush with heat. Your breathing turned choppy and you forced yourself to return to that sense of calm you had before.

You finished lotioning up and brushed your teeth, adding on a mint just in case. You blew out the candle and then pulled on your robe, returning to your darkened room. The blackout curtains worked well. The darkened room felt more intimate than normal.

Terry’s preferred outfit lay across your freshly laundered comforter and sheets. You hoped after tonight, that it would be good and filthy again. You slipped on the lingerie Terry shipped to you, taking your time to pull on the purple metallic bra with fleur-de-lis decorations in black and turquoise blue. The matching panties and skirt set glided smoothly across your dewy skin.

The skirt connected to thigh high stockings and you hurriedly pulled those on as well. You leaned down to pull on high heels, strapping it around your ankle. You’d never felt sexier. There was something deeply erotic about wearing an outfit someone else picked for you.

You took off your bonnet and shook out your hair, arranging it just how you liked. You walked over to your closet, opening the door to look in the long mirror. You turned from side to side, appreciating how well it fit. How sexy it looked on you.

The heels felt like stepping on clouds and you walked around your room, getting used to the feel of it. Hell, you’d fuck you in a heartbeat. You hoped Terry liked it. Speaking of…

You went over to your dresser, cleaning up some of the mess you made while getting ready for work. You grabbed your phone, charging, and switched the song to Under by Pleasure P.

You opened the new message by Terry, tingling pinpricks shooting up your inner thighs.

TJ: See you soon, beautiful.

The message was sent when you began your bath so you had no idea if he was just now leaving or if he was already there. Not knowing had you clenching your thighs. You had to calm down. Had to return to a relaxed state.

Final steps. You dimmed the lights in your bedroom, setting it to where you could barely see. You transferred the music from your bathroom to your bedroom’s speakers. Then you grabbed your wine and took a few more sips until you emptied your glass. You pouted at the missing liquid and then sighed.

You turned around, trudging to the kitchen to the nasty croon of Pleasure P. singing. You hummed as you opened your fridge, bringing out your wine and pouring another healthy glass.

You stopped pouring and lifted your head, an awareness of being watched creeping into your senses. You slowly turned around but there was no one in the kitchen. You fought the urge to turn on the overhead lights, letting the backlighting guide most of your way.

There was no one behind you, yet you couldn’t fight the urge that he was there. That he was near. “Terry?” You called out. Your house never seemed so empty before. You stepped forward, your heels clicking on the tile.

Your phone buzzed in your hand and you jumped with a shriek, laughing as you saw Terry’s phone number flash across your screen. You swiped it to answer it and brought it to your ear.

“Don’t you know you’re not supposed to call out who’s there?” He asked.

“Terry?” You asked, breathlessly, looking for any sign of movement. There was nothing in the pitch black night outside your house and not a peep from the one level house.

Terry’s deep chuckle made you shiver and bite your lip. This man was too sexy for words. Too fucking sinful. He was the total and complete package, driving you crazy with a few well placed words.

“Are you scared?” Terry asked, dropping his voice to a low, purring tease.

“N-No,” you said. You abandoned your wine and then went snooping around your own home, staring at closet doors warily. How did he get in? If he got into your place without a disturbance in the air, you hated to be an enemy of his. Hated to see what he was capable of when he was focused on a mission.

Terry chuckled. “Don’t lie to me,” he said.

“A little. I’m a little scared,” you admitted.

“That’s better. I’d be worried if you weren’t. You smell good by the way,” he said.

Your gasp was a mix of a whine and a moan. Where was he? Where would he pop out? You walked towards the back of the house, towards your room and your bathroom. You checked behind the doors and everything.

“You’re playing with me,” you said, with a breathless giggle.

“A little. Remember our safe word?” He asked.

You nodded and licked your lips but then it dawned on you that he couldn’t truly see you. “Yes. It’s Halloween,” you said.

“Good girl,” he purred.

You whimpered, pussy fluttering. Your essence pooled in your panties. There was no way that you could play it cool tonight. No way to remain cool, aloof, and alluring. You were down bad for Terry Richmond. Down atrocious. There was nothing that you could deny him. Nothing he couldn’t ask for that you wouldn’t try to provide.

“Want to play a game? I have a few questions,” he said.

“What kind of questions?” You asked. You searched high and low but you couldn’t determine where he was. If he was in the house or if he was right outside. You were not dressed for outside so you didn’t even attempt it.

Instead, you went around to check the locks on your doors. All still locked. Nothing amiss. You pulled back the white curtain on your back door window and peered out into the foggy evening. Nothing moved. Not a single leaf or blade of grass.

“What’s your favorite scary movie?” He asked, a dark rumble in his voice that made you bite your lip once more. This was why you could never seriously wear lipstick or lipgloss. Maybe for about ten minutes before you were biting or nibbling or picking at your lips.

You giggled. “Really?” You asked.

“Don’t want to play with me?” He asked.

You sighed and relaxed a fraction. He couldn’t be in the house yet. He was only toying with you and you were letting him get to you. He told you to relax and that was what you were going to do.

“The Frighteners,” you answered.

Terry chuckled. “That doesn’t count.”

“Sure it does. It’s classified as horror and it sure freaked me the hell out,” you said.

“Do you get scared easily?” He asked.

“Depends. I can watch movies but being scared in real life sucks,” you said. Which only made this whole exchange all the more surreal. But you were already a dripping mess. Forget prep time. Terry would have no issues just sliding right inside you.

“Can you guess which room I’m in right now?” Terry asked.

You gasped, turning around. Didn’t you just check all of the doors? You stepped back into your kitchen. You could hear your gasping breaths, heart thumping against your rib cage. “You’re playing with me again,” you said.

“Am I? You’re cold by the way,” he said.

You released your breath in slow increments, stepping forward through your kitchen with blue cabinets making the kitchen darker. You peered around the corner, looking towards the living room. You took a step forward and Terry tsked at you.

“Freezing,” he said.

You giggled nervously, turning around to your hallway. Your steps turned from clacking to pattering on the runner as you walked down the hallway. “Getting warmer. Warmer,” Terry teased as you walked closer to your bedroom.

Your heart was in your throat, beating a thumping rhythm against your neck as you traveled closer to your room. Why had you turned the lights so low? You inched closer, wanting to get close but not wanting to be blindsided by Terry jumping out.

“Burning up,” Terry said as you passed the linen closet. You stopped and reached out a hand, turning the handle slowly and then opening the door. You flinched, prepared for Terry to jump out.

“Found you,” Terry said.

You giggled, relief flooding through you now that you knew he wasn’t on the other side. You closed the door and then walked to your bedroom just fine, putting your hand on your hips. “You’re not really here. Because if you were, you’d be able to tell me what I’m doing right now,” you said.

You made an L on your forehead and twisted around in your room. “What am I doing?” You called out. “What am I doing?”

You giggled and lowered your hand, turning around just as a shadow passed in front of your door. You squealed and tripped over your heels trying to backtrack away. Escape, escape! Your mind flashed warning bells in your mind.

A man stood in front of you wearing black cargo pants, black boots, and a black tank top. Tattoos caught in the low light of your bedroom window and your pussy clenched looking at his powerful arms. The Ghostface mask seemed to float in the air but you knew just beneath that was Terry’s fine face.

“Boo,” he said.

Your mouth turned dry at being scared but heat flooded through your system taking in every delicious inch of him. He was incredibly tall and he had to duck to cross into your room.

You backed away even as your mind screamed for you to move forward. Terry raised a knife in his hand, the metal glinting. It was a standard chef’s knife and you whimpered looking at it.

This was the dumbest thing you’d ever done. The wildest, stupidest, most asinine thing ever. But it was also a wish that came true. You were already a puddle, a mix of adrenaline and arousal confusing your senses in the worst way. You didn’t know if you wanted to scream from frustration or fear.

Terry tilted his head, making the mask go sideways. He stepped closer to you and brought his hand up to caress your chin. He pulled you closer to his mask and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. Couldn’t look away at the ghostly visage as he took a deep breath.

“You smell good enough to eat,” he said.

You sighed and finally blinked. “You don’t look so bad yourself,” you said.

“Safe word?” He asked.

“Halloween,” you said.

Terry nodded and then walked around in a circle, perusing your body as if you were on display. He hand followed behind him, reaching out to run his rough, callused fingers across your bare belly. “Gorgeous,” he said.

Fuck, you were ready to burst right out of your skin. This entire week had been nothing but foreplay to you. He gave instructions and a list of things to obtain for him, things he wanted you to choose so that you knew exactly what was coming.

“What are you going to do now?” You asked. You felt like he could hear your audible gulp. Swallowing around the thick cord of lust zapping through your body and making it hard to breathe properly. You were on the edge, itchy with the need to cum, but knowing that it would only happen when he decided.

“Where’s the rope?” He asked. You felt behind you on the dresser for the silk rope he asked you to pick out. Something soft and easily adjustable so that you could escape at any moment. If this continued, you’d work your way up to more hardcore stuff. Hand over more and more of yourself.

Your fingers clasped clumsily around the rope and held it up. Terry leaned to one side and tilted his head once more, playing with the edge of the knife. “Put it on,” he commanded.

You licked your lips and slipped the silk rope around your wrists and tightened it. Terry crooked his finger and you walked forward immediately. No use pretending that this wasn’t exactly what you craved.

Terry had set a neat trap in his messages and voice notes to you. The late night calls where his sinful voice rocked you to sleep. He made it easy to surrender. To give in. To cast off all of the doubt and anxiousness. Now you just wanted to feel. To listen. To shut your brain off for half a second and enjoy yourself.

Terry tugged you forward by the silk rope, testing the limit and resistance on it. You almost hated that you couldn’t see his pretty face. But you’d cum so many times to his pictures that you had it committed to memory.

Terry pulled you forward with the rope, pulling you over to your bed and pushed you down. You bounced with a gasp, your titties bouncing with the movement. Terry stepped into your personal space, leaning down and pressing the cold metal of the knife against your throat. You moaned, feeling the knife slide across your skin. He barely grazed you but it was the dark promise of it that turned you on.

That you were a hair’s breadth away from mortal danger. That at any moment, he could press deeper and draw blood. You whimpered as your body overheated. You burned from the inside out, sweat breaking out in patches all over your body.

“Terry,” you moaned.

Terry moved the knife down to trail over the swells of your breasts. Your chest rose and fell in choppy waves, getting too excited before he had a chance to do anything. He slipped the knife beneath your bra and you moaned, arching your chest into the knife.

“You’re too trusting,” he said. He palmed your breasts roughly, finding your nipples through the fabric of your bra and squeezing painfully. You cried out, trying to close your legs but he had encroached upon your space without you realizing. You had been too busy focusing on the knife and his mask.

He tossed the knife onto the bed and gripped your thighs, spreading you open and yanking you to the edge of the bed. The music still playing in the background only added to the scene, getting you further into the mood.

I know you like it nasty.

Nasty by Joshua Williams began to play, juices slipping between your legs and soaking your panties.

Terry pushed the seat of your panties to the side, trailing his fingers through your wet folds. “Oh, fuck,” you whispered, whimpering as your hands flew to his to stall his movements. He ignored you, smacking your hands away.

“Push them titties up and keep your hands there,” he said.

You grabbed your titties and pushed them together. Terry groaned, leaning forward. His thick fingers played you like a fiddle, gathering up your slick. He shoved two fingers inside and you cried out, body arching. Your hands slipped from holding your titties.

“Put your hand back. Don’t make me tell you again,” he growled.

You whimpered and replaced your hands on your chest. You turned pleading, doe eyes towards him. Terry leaned down and rubbed the mask against your cheek. You shivered from the unexpected coolness of it. It did little to dampen the heat in your veins. The fire in your lower belly.

“Nice and fuckin’ wet. All of this for me?” Terry asked.

You nodded. “Yes, yes,” you said. His fingers worked liquid magic on your pussy, making you soak his fingers with how long and deep his fingers went. You opened your mouth, arching your back and grinding on his fingers. He stroked until you were shaking and moaning on his fingers.

“Gonna stretch the fuck outta this pretty pussy,” he promised. He withdrew his fingers and then shoved his fingers into your mouth, forcing you to taste yourself. Taste how wet he made you. Taste how turned on you were under his control.

He ripped at your panties and you gasped at the shredding sound, knees trying to close around his massive frame. His narrow hips kept you spread open. He moaned, getting his first look at your pussy. “Look at that shit. My needy little slut,” he groaned.

Your pussy clenched as he unzipped his pants, jerking it down his hips and revealing his long, thick dick. Your eyes widened taking in the size and girth of him. His balls were big and heavy, drooping and tapping against his strong thighs.

He slapped his dick against your pussy, competing with the music. You moaned with each wet smack, hearing how turned on you were. Your taste was still on your tongue, in your nose, and you closed your eyes to all of the sensations.

Terry pushed you onto your back and slapped his dick against your pussy once more, your juices jumping from the action. Your teeth chattered, unbridled desire coursing through you and driving your pleasure higher and higher.

It’d been too long since you came. Too long since you felt that rush of relief and you were ready to leap from your skin.

Terry grabbed the knife and slipped it beneath your bra. He cut it loose and you cried out, your titties free and spilling out from either side of the cups. Terry groaned, pushing his hips in before catching himself.

He palmed himself with his other hand and guided himself inside, placing the knife against your skin but keeping his fingers there as a barrier so that it wasn’t directly on you. Just held above your skin as a silent threat.

He was so big, you cried out, holding up your hands. Terry ignored you, pushing in deeper and retreated to give you a tiny breather. He grunted and tried again, getting deeper this time.

“Too big,” you moaned, your eyes turning watery at the slow burn working its way through your midsection.

“I’ll make it fit, don’t worry,” he cooed. He dived back in, giving you shallow strokes. It became easier to take him with every downward stroke, and your thighs clenched around his hips.

He used his left hand to slide down your thigh, up your calf, and pull your foot to his face. He rubbed the mask against your foot, lifting your leg higher to sit against his chest. It opened you up further to him, allowing him to nearly reach the base inside you. He was close to bottoming out.

You were crying, whimpering, shivering on his dick as it throbbed the more it slid in and out of you. Terry’s moans rivaled yours. He threw his head back and sank in deeper.

“Oh, fuck, god, damn, fuck, shit,” you whimpered, out of breath and half delirious. The stretch was perfect. Stuffing you completely full of dick.

“That’s a good pussy. Taking what I’m giving you. Feel me in this pussy?” He asked.

“Yes, yes, I feel you,” you cried, tears gathering in your eyes once more. You were driven out of your mind. Body weightless, limitless, stretching your awareness beyond what you could sense. It was metaphysical. Like your soul found his and stitched you together the more he stroked deep inside.

Terry moved the knife up to your cheek. He pushed your face to the side, exposing your neck. He trailed the knife close to your neck. You clenched around him and he moaned, picking up the pace and ramming inside of you.

He fucked you like you had him fucked up. Like he missed you. Like you intentionally kept yourself away from him and he was back to stake his claim. To draw a line in the dirt and dare you to disobey.

“Oh, shit. Ouee, shit. Ouee, shit, fuck you feel so good,” you moaned.

“You look so pretty taking dick. Getting my dick fuckin’ creamy. Can’t stop staring at how much every time I pull out,” he said.

You lifted your hands, intending to push him away. You were close to another orgasm and it was coming too fast. Too fast for you to brace for.

“Move that hand or I will,” he huffed, harsh moans and panting making you sick with desire. Your pussy squelched from the pressure of him entering you.

You moved your hands, holding it above your head. “Ouee, fuck. That dick feels too good,” you whimpered.

“That’s all yours,” he said.

You tensed up, careening head first into the orgasm and crying out, screaming to the ceiling from the intensity. You flopped around on his dick like a fish out of water and Terry continued to fuck you through it, moving the knife when necessary when it appeard you’d get too close.

Terry withdrew and tossed the knife back on the bed. He gripped your hips and flipped you over, re-entering you and you screamed. He matched you with a moan. “Fuck. So fuckin’ good. So fuckin’ wet. Fuckin’ me getting you this wet?” Terry asked.

You nodded and stretched your hands above you. You arched your back, giving him full access to your ass. His large hand came down to smack your ass, causing it to sting with pain. You hissed, not expecting the bite of pain. You flooded his dick once more, fresh juices leaking out of you.

“Oh fuck! Terry! Please, no more,” you cried out. You didn’t have another one.

Terry leaned down, pressing his lips close to your ear. “Aww, you think I care. Come on pretty girl, move that ass. Come get yours,” he said.

You shook your head. You didn’t have enough to hold yourself up with. Each thrust sent you into the bed, fucking you into the matress with unrelenting speed. Your body flushed with heat, great licks of fire. Still, you managed to throw it back on him. Matching his thrusts.

“That’s it. Soak this dick, pretty. Bouncing pretty on this fuckin’ dick. Unf, fuck. Takin’ me very well. You takin’ what I’m giving you?” Terry moaned.

How did he expect you to answer him at the moment? Your mind was gone, down into another plane of existence. He gripped your ass cheeks and spread them. He lifted his right hand and then quickly pressed his wet digit against your asshole, pressing in. You fell forward and he followed you down. He continued to stroke, sliding in and out of you, punishing you with his dick whether you could keep up or not.

The pressure was new, weird, but oh so fucking good when he pressed in deeper. You felt full. Stuffed completely.

“Give me another one,” he commanded.

“Can’t,” you gasped, your face smooshed into the comforter.

Terry gripped your hair with his free hand and yanked, bending you at a weird angle. He didn’t care. “I’m gonna paint this fuckin’ pussy with this nut. But you’re going to give me another one first,” he said, voice low and scraping against your eardrums in the most pleasurable way.

He wiggled his finger in your ass and you moaned, tensed up, and screamed with your orgasm. Your eyes burned as you screamed, loudly, shaking uncontrollably on his dick. “There it is. Fuck you think you are making me wait?” He asked and yanked on your hair to the point of pain.

“Sorrrryyyyyy,” you moaned as you came and came. He fucked you through it, chasing his own pleasure in your body. Burying his dick to the hilt and unloading with a deep, powerful growl erupting from his thick chest.

His cum shot inside you like it was a race to get you pregnant then and there. Your brain turned fuzzy, eyes turning black in the corners and he came and came with seemingly no end in sight.

“That’y my good fuckin’ slut,” Terry growled low in your ear.

“Fuck,” you whimpered.

Terry pumped his hips a few more times before withdrawing from your body. He stepped back to admire his handiwork. Your pussy clenched as you pushed his cum out. He encouraged you, telling you to try to work every drop out.

He flipped you back onto your back. He grabbed you by the silk rope still tied around your hands and pulled you to your feet with one bicep curl. You moaned. Fuck. You’d go another round if you were able. You needed him back inside. Your pussy was unbearably achy, twitchy, needy.

You whimpered and cried as he pushed you to your knees. “Open your mouth,” he ordered.

You opened, staring up at him. He dug his fingers into your hair, pulling you forward. He tapped his dick against your lips, painting it with a mix of his cum and your essence. He shoved his dick inside and moaned, throwing his head back while you sucked him off.

You braced your fingers around his long legs, dusted with hair. You held on as he face fucked you, feeding you his dick.

“Get it nice and clean,” he cooed, at complete odds with the way he shoved past your resistance. You moaned, turning watery eyes to him. His mask was frozen in fake sympathy. He tilted his head at you, thrusting along with fucking your mouth.

“Perfect. You’re perfect,” he moaned. You reached out and touched his balls. His hips jerked forward and you gagged, body rejecting him. “Fuuuck.” His moan tugged at your throbbing clit.

Saliva dribbled down the sides of your mouth, onto your chin, and dripped onto your titties still bouncing in the bra he cut through. You felt his cum leak out of your pussy, likely falling onto the floor.

“Pretty fuckin’ mess too. I’m finna bust. Swallow it,” he said.

You nodded on his dick. He thrust a handful more times before he burst in your mouth, stuffing more cum into your body. You swallowed it all, letting the sticky substance slide hungrily down your throat.

His hips stroked absently, like he couldn’t make himself stop even if he wanted to. He slowed down, pulling his dick past your lips slowly. You let him go with a wet pop. Terry cleaned the corners of your mouth with his fingers.

He dropped into a squat, as much as his pants would allow. He took off the mask letting you get a glimpse of that beautiful, sexy face of his. His eyes were narrowed, intense, focused as he smirked at you. He had permanent bedroom eyes. As if he were just waking up or just falling asleep. No in-between.

He smirked at you. “Ready for round two?”

The end.

Ya'll know I can't leave this man aloneeee. The Secret Terry Richmond Files

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glossdebut · 2 months ago

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PRICE OF FAME | MYG ★ 01

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

✧ SERIES SUMMARY: You were about ready to give up, your career nowhere near what you dreamed it’d be when you started at eighteen, bright-eyed and naive. Reality for you these past few years has consisted of pouting at a camera, ignoring whispers of your name at company events, and ensuring that the stupid, tiny designer purses they keep forcing on you can at least carry a flask. But now, you’re helping a friend in need. For the first time in a long time, it feels like you’re doing something worthwhile with your life. Too bad Min Yoongi, the newest thorn in your side, seems insistent on stopping you.

✧ SERIES TAGS: enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, smut, fake/pretend relationship (not main couple), rockstar!yoongi, model!reader, guitarist yoongi, singer jungkook, bassist taehyung, drummer jimin, manager namjoon, yoongi & maknae line are in a rock band, reader & seokjin are best friends, yoongi & hoseok are best friends (sope duo ftw), yoongi has a tongue piercing, reader is a brat

✧ CHAPTER WARNINGS: recreational drinking, yoongi is an asshole (see series masterlist for series warnings)

✧ CHAPTER WORDCOUNT: 6.1k words

✧ AUTHOR’S NOTE: NEW ERA NEW ERA NEW ERA! whew!!! i’m excited for this one! this is going to be a loooong ride, so buckle up and enjoy! please note the slow burn tag on this one, because i’m not joking around with it. trust me, it’s going to hurt me just as much as it hurts you.

a HUGE thank you to tanni @yooniivrse for continuing to beta read for me <3 your commentary never fails to make me laugh and your edits save my life.

P.S. everything i know about the korean music industry is informed by my years as a kpop fan. i don’t know much about the rock scene there, so expect inaccuracies galore going forward. i do my due diligence where i can, but that can only help so much.

CH. 01: ALL YOU PEOPLE ARE VAMPIRES!

You aren’t entirely sure when you stopped feeling at home in places like this. There has to be some kind of defining event, some kind of indicator of The Before and The After, but every time you try and figure it out you come up short.

In The Before, not all that long ago, you would be scrounging for the bus fare rattling around in your pockets to get to a place like this as soon as you punched out from your shift at the Speedy Mart.

During your short stint in college, your friends didn’t understand your obsession. Music venues, to them, were fun for a weekend’s night out. The thrill of flashing a fake ID, of flirting with the musicians after their set, of getting said musicians to buy them drinks—it was a satisfying rebellion, a fun story to tell people at school and hide from their parents.

But you were there every day, even after classes and graveyard shifts under fluorescent lights, always racing to the nearest show without even changing out of your polo. It was never a rebellion to you. The lights, the thumping bass, the secondhand smoke—it made every nerve ending in your body light up.

You were born in this smoke, as far as you’re concerned.

Maybe it’s different now because it’s work to be here. But what isn’t work, these days? Your life is micromanaged down to the minutiae—the meals you eat, the products you use in your hair, your goddamn piss breaks. There’s no clocking out for you, no gasp of relief that comes after. Such is life for one of Seoul’s many playthings.

Even in the dead of winter, your stylist, Hyerin, has you in a dress that begs to be pulled down every five minutes like clockwork.

You learned a long time ago to bite your tongue on matters like this. The brands you work for pay you for the exposure you give them, after all. The chill that settles in your bones from the ten steps you take from your paid car to the venue door will be well worth it next time you count the zeroes in your bank account. At least, that’s what Hyerin told you as she pushed you out of the car and into the cold.

Wasteland looks the same as it did the very first night you ever stepped foot inside. Same red, glowing guitar sign above the entrance. Same shitty overpriced drinks. Same sticky floors. It’s nice that some things never change even when you do.

You’ve never been on the balcony, though. You’ve gotta hand it to Jeongguk—he’s really pulling out all the stops. To your knowledge, the balcony is normally reserved for VIPs. Close friends and family of the band, other celebrities, lucky and well-connected fans. Significant others. You suppose you fall under more than one of those categories now.

The crowd gathered on this side of the stage buzzes incessantly around you, waiting for the set to start. The excitement is palpable, and you understand why. It’s the very last show of Burn The Stage’s very first world tour following the release of their third studio album, and they’re ending it here: in Seoul. At Wasteland no less, the venue that housed the show that got them signed in the first place. Of course people are excited.

If you were the same person you were in The Before, you would be, too.

Instead, as the stage lights go down and the crowd roars around you, you down the rest of your drink and pray it’ll do its job and calm your fidgeting. For a split second, the thought that maybe you shouldn’t be drunk tonight passes through your brain, but it disappears as quickly as it comes. Your hopes of making a good first impression were squandered as soon as Hyerin zipped up your dress.

Besides, it’s not as if Jeongguk picked you for your shining reputation. More like the opposite.

With a flash of lights and a cacophony of sound, Burn The Stage launches into their first song on the setlist. The crowd roars around you, but you’re not here as a fan, so you try to remember everything Jeongguk taught you in preparation for tonight.

If you weren’t already close, most everything there is to learn about Jeon Jeongguk himself could easily be found with a simple Naver search.

Not only is Jeongguk the lead vocalist and rhythm guitarist of Burn The Stage, but he’s also the de facto face of the band, and he couldn’t be better suited for the job. He’s beautiful. Like, seriously beautiful. Well-built and knows it, sings songs about love and sex and anger with the sweetest voice known to man, covered in tattoos and piercings that eommas everywhere pretend to disapprove of when they’re actually ogling just as much as their daughters. He’s a teenage girl’s wet dream, and with that comes hordes of them using the deductive skills of the NIS to figure out the last time he took a shit. Very little in his life is a secret, whether he likes it or not.

The rest of the band, in turn, gets the luxury of a little bit of mystery.

Park Jimin, the drummer, and Kim Taehyung, the bassist. Jeongguk’s best friends in the world. You’ve met them both in passing before, at industry events here and there, and they both seemed nice enough.

Jimin has a bit of a reputation for being temperamental, angry, but the way Jeongguk describes him paints him as something gentle. Childhood friends who’ve known each other since scraped knees and runny noses.

It’s public knowledge that Jimin wanted to be a dancer, before this—that when he was in college, he suffered an injury that ended his dancing career before it even started. One moment he was one of the most promising ballet students in Seoul, and the next he was retired at nineteen. He doesn’t like to talk about it, but every time the band is interviewed the question is inevitably asked. Do you have any regrets? You’ve watched the videos, seen the way he shakes with anger even as he answers with a saccharine smile. You have a feeling getting along with Jimin won’t pose any challenges for you. You know a thing or two about regrets.

Taehyung is a bit harder to figure out, but not in any way that sparks concern. He’s just an interesting guy that way.

He was the last to join the band, the first to answer a ‘BASS PLAYER NEEDED’ ad posted around the city. Apparently, he was so good that they didn’t feel the need to call anyone else.

He lives in his own world, does his own thing. Posts very artistic photo dumps on his Instagram with concerningly cryptic captions. He’s quiet when he’s around people he doesn’t know, but when he’s put in a room with Jimin and Jeongguk he becomes the loudest person there. He’s kind, caring, always seems to know the right thing to say even if it’s delivered in the strangest manner possible.

Jimin and Taehyung won’t cause any problems for you. Jeongguk assured you that they’d be easy to win over, that as long as Jeongguk likes you, you’re in with them.

The real wild card is the guitarist. Min Yoongi.

According to Jeongguk, Burn The Stage wouldn’t even exist if it weren’t for Yoongi. When the band formed, they were just dumb kids with a shared dream, but Yoongi was the one to set it all in motion.

When they didn’t have anywhere to practice, Yoongi convinced the ajumma he worked for to let him cram as much equipment as he could fit into a tiny noraebang room. When venues wouldn’t book them without the guarantee that they would draw a crowd, Yoongi burned hundreds of CDs and stood on the streets of Hongdae begging people to listen. When shady entertainment companies started offering them laughable contracts, Yoongi found Namjoon and somehow convinced him to manage them for dirt cheap. When they finally got an offer worth taking, Yoongi made them mull it over for as long as they possibly could. Weigh the pros and cons and decide if it was what they really wanted.

If Jeongguk is the face of the band, Yoongi is the heart. Unfortunately for you, this particular heart is very well-guarded.

Yoongi takes his privacy seriously. He refuses to answer interview questions he deems too personal, he doesn’t use social media. When asked why, his answer is always that he wants the music to speak for him.

Because that’s another thing: every single song that Burn The Stage has ever released has been penned by Yoongi. To his credit, it’s kind of what they’re known for. His lyrics have a raw honesty to them that’s gotten the band into trouble more than once.

You finally tune into the show that’s unfolded below you, the words spilling from Jeongguk’s lips loud and clear in your ears now that you’re paying attention.

Well, I ain't got no dollar signs in my eyes That might be a surprise but it's true Said, "I'm not like you and I don't want your advice Or your praise or to move in the ways you do and I never will" 'Cause all you people are vampires And all your stories are stale And though you pretend to stand by us I know you're certain we'll fail

It’s rock music. It’s polarizing, controversial, edgy. Biting the hand that feeds them—especially in the eyes of the executives lining the band’s pockets, you’re sure. And yet everyone eats it up.

Still, Yoongi wouldn’t get away with half of it if he wasn’t attractive, you’re sure of it.

Because he is. Attractive. They all are, and he’s no exception. He checks all of the boxes annoyingly well. The long hair, the signature smirk, the little silver barbell on a tongue that he seems all too happy to flash at a moment’s notice. Too bad he seems like one of those pretentious, tortured artist types that take themselves way too seriously. That’s never done it for you.

Jeongguk is the one singing Yoongi’s words, and he might as well be Korea’s sweetheart—if it weren’t for all the tattoos. He conveys the message of Yoongi’s songs exactly as intended, but he doesn’t have to act like an egotistical gatekeeper to do it.

Maybe it’s a preference on your part. You’ve always had a thing for sweetness.

★ ★ ★

After the concert, you’re ushered off of the balcony by one of the band’s security guards. It’s the same guy who escorted you up when you arrived, and you note to yourself that he’s very polite. Eunwoo, according to his nametag.

It tracks, given Burn The Stage’s reputation for making sure the women at their concerts feel comfortable in the crowd. You’ve heard stories about them stopping mid-song to have handsy men kicked out, and it’s nice to know their commitment extends to the people they employ for themselves.

Eunwoo offers you his hand palm-up as you descend down the balcony stairs, and you take it with a grateful smile. You’re feeling wobbly in these shoes, and the drinks you’ve downed since your arrival aren’t helping matters. Even with the assistance, you still feel like a baby giraffe as you step down, but thanks to Eunwoo, you don’t eat shit.

Eunwoo dutifully guides you backstage, to a grimy, graffitied hallway housing the dressing rooms for Wasteland’s talent of the night. Jeongguk waits outside of one of them, guzzling down a bottle of water as a female staff member dabs sweat off of his forehead with a pristine white towel. She’s only there for a moment before slipping back through the dressing room door. Finally noticing your approach, Jeongguk turns his head and grins at you, and you feel your nerves ebb away instantly. He’s good at that.

As you get closer to Jeongguk, you turn to smile and nod at Eunwoo in thanks. He smiles back politely, wordlessly falling back to give you some privacy.

“Daaaamn, YN-ah,” Jeongguk says, whistling lowly as you reach him. “You’re going to cause a bloodbath in there.” He nods his head towards the dressing room door, and you roll your eyes despite the heat building in your cheeks.

“I know, I know,” you say, smoothing your hands over your dress. “It’s not exactly a meet-the-family outfit, but I didn’t have a choice.”

“Nah, it’s cool. You look hot,” he says, grabbing your hand and making you do a spin, forcing a surprised laugh out of you as you try not to trip over yourself. Jeongguk keeps you steady, though, with a hand on your shoulder. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you say, although you’re sure your face gives away how terrified you are of what awaits you on the other side of the door. “Maybe you should’ve picked an actress for this, though.”

“I trust you,” he says softly, squeezing your shoulder. “It’s not too late to back out, though. I’ll understand…”

You believe him, of course. Those doe eyes don’t lie, and even so, he’s already told you over and over how bad he feels for asking this of you. But you don’t want to back out. Jeongguk has given you so much since you’ve met—it’s only right to try and repay him for it.

“I want to do this,” you assure him, reaching up to squeeze his hand on your shoulder. “I’m just worried I won’t be able to pull it off.”

“You will,” Jeongguk says, smiling down at you warmly. “Don’t sweat it too much, okay? We’ve got this. It’s not like I have to pretend to like you.”

Right. You wish Jeongguk’s words did what they were meant to and instilled some kind of confidence in you, but what they actually do is make your chest ache uncomfortably. Pull yourself together, you think. Now’s not the time.

You smile good-naturedly, hoping Jeongguk doesn’t notice the way it doesn’t quite meet your eyes. “Let’s get this over with,” you mumble.

“That’s the spirit!” he laughs, sliding the hand on your shoulder around to the other one so his arm is slung around you. You hate the way your heart flutters, despite the fact that you’d prepared for this. Dumb bitch.

Jeongguk cracks the dressing room door open just enough to ensure that all of the men inside are decent, and then he’s guiding you inside, your hands flying down to smooth your dress over again, just in case.

The dressing room is bustling with more people than you expected, people you recognize from the balcony and staff alike. There’s a fast-paced rock song playing over a bluetooth speaker, almost loud enough to drown out the chatter.

Everyone seems to be in celebration mode after the last show of the tour. There’s a large sheet cake on a cart in the middle of the room emblazoned with the band members’ faces in frosting, plastic champagne flutes littered around the room in varying states of fullness. Judging by the bottle in his hand and the way staff members wipe at his face fussily, it seems like Taehyung took the liberty of pouring champagne over his head to cool off.

You’re used to having lots of eyes on you—it comes with the job—but something about the way Jeongguk’s bandmates immediately stop what they’re doing and take notice of your presence startles you, puts you on edge.

“Jeonggukie! You missed the cake,” Jimin calls, standing up from where he sat on the couch. He holds out a slice of the sheet cake to Jeongguk, tilting his head at you as he approaches. “Where do I know you from?”

Jeongguk removes his arm from your shoulders to take the plate, snorting at the image of his decapitated cake-head staring up at him. “Hyungs,” he says, grabbing a plastic fork and digging into the slice. “This is YLN YN.”

“Oh, we’ve met before! The model, right?” Taehyung pipes up from where he’s still being wiped down, and you nod politely. “I saw your Innisfree campaign last month. I couldn’t remember whether your skin was really that nice in person.”

You watch as he extricates himself from the staff, ignoring their protests as he walks away from them.

Taehyung gets close to you, close enough to inspect your pores like he clearly intends to, and you fight the urge to instantly recoil. Jeongguk seems too busy stuffing his face with cake to interfere, and you want to make a good first impression. So much for your personal bubble.

“It is,” he says, nodding sagely to himself.

“Th-thank you?” you stammer. Beside you, Jeongguk finally tunes back in.

“Jeez, hyung,” he says around a mouthful of cake. He chews for a moment, swallowing thickly before continuing. “Let her breathe.”

“Sorry,” Taehyung says sheepishly, backing out of your personal space, and you let go of a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, shaking your head.

“It’s fine,” you say, mustering a polite smile.

You note that despite his initial (albeit subtle) acknowledgement of your existence when you walked in the door, Yoongi now seems entirely disinterested in interacting with you. He hasn’t moved from where he’s planted on the couch, focused intently on strumming his guitar. How he can even hear what he’s playing over the noise is beyond you. It’s not even plugged into an amp.

You’d be a little annoyed that he hasn’t even bothered to greet you, but you reason that he must be pretty worn out from all of the fanfare surrounding the show tonight. Introvert recognizes introvert. You try not to take it personally.

“Do you know Jeongguk-ah well?” Jimin asks, drawing your attention back to him. His eyes bounce between you and his bandmate. He seems to be putting the pieces together, so you glance at Jeongguk, wordlessly passing the question his way.

Thankfully, Jeongguk seems to get the hint. He tosses his plate in the nearest trash can before sliding over to you again, his arm slipping around your waist easily, betraying nothing.

“Hyungs,” he starts, glancing at you and nodding once. Let the show begin. “YN-ah is actually, um… my girlfriend.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Yoongi sit up. That got his attention, it seems.

A hush falls over the room, even the eyes of the staff members within earshot widening in response to Jeongguk’s announcement. Oh shit, you think. Please let this go well.

“Since when?” Taehyung asks, curiosity piqued. Thankfully, though, he doesn’t seem upset by the new information. At least, not as far as you can tell.

“Well, um,” Jeongguk starts, tonguing nervously at his lip ring. He pulls you closer so you’re practically curled against his chest now, and you silently pray that the way you’re looking at him reads as sweet and not like you’re about to jump out of your skin. “It’s actually been a few months now… Since right before the tour, actually.”

“Right before the tour?” Jimin asks, his brow furrowing in obvious confusion. “So you’ve been doing long distance?”

Jeongguk glances at you, a soft smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah, it was bad timing on my part,” he says, his eyes fixed on yours. Damn. If he didn’t have such great pipes, you’d say he should’ve gone into acting. He’s male lead material. “I just couldn’t leave without telling her how I felt.”

You wish that you could do or say literally anything useful instead of just clinging to Jeongguk’s side like a barnacle. This is supposed to be a joint effort, but you feel frozen in place, unable to find your voice. It’s a good thing Jeongguk seems to be pulling it off all on his own.

“So cute,” Taehyung coos, bumping his shoulder against Jimin’s conspiratorially. “Our Jeonggukie’s all grown up and in love.”

“He’s always been a romantic,” Jimin joins in, miming at wiping fake tears as if he’s a proud parent. He reaches out and grabs your hands, startling you. “Please take care of him.”

“Hyuuuungs,” Jeongguk whines, tearing his arm away from you to whack Jimin and Taehyung on their heads simultaneously. “You’re going to scare her away!”

“Doubtful,” Yoongi says from where he’s still seated on the couch. Oh, so he does speak. It’s the first time you’ve heard his voice all night. It’s low, raspier in person than in the videos you’ve seen online. His words are directed at Jeongguk, but when you turn your head to look at him you find that his gaze is fixed on you. Your pulse spikes at the discovery. “I don’t think anything could scare her away from you, Guk-ah.”

The words themselves are innocuous, even supportive, but something about the way he says them makes your gut twist. Nobody else seems put off by it, but you can tell something’s not right. You have to say something, to open your mouth and speak. You have to pull this off, for Jeongguk.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you say, forcing a smile. You manage to tear your gaze away from Yoongi, looking back at Jeongguk. He’s grinning down at you, and it’s real, even if the pretense of it isn’t. Your smile becomes a little less forced in return.

★ ★ ★

Jimin and Taehyung are insistent that you stick around and celebrate for a while, so you do. You end up enjoying yourself, despite the weird moment with Yoongi.

Jimin and Taehyung are fun to be around, just like Jeongguk said they would be, although conversation between the three of them becomes a little hard for you to follow sometimes. They just talk so fast.

They ask you questions about your job, your friends, your family. They also tease Jeongguk relentlessly in front of you and seem all too thrilled to find out that you’re their noona. You find it surprising how easily you open up to them, but it just… happens. Just like it did with Jeongguk when you first met.

You relax enough to convince yourself that your perceived pointed nature of Yoongi’s words earlier was all in your head. Surely, he couldn’t have a problem with you when he doesn’t even know you. Jeongguk told you himself that Yoongi’s a quiet guy. Maybe that was his own way of telling you he approves of you. He hasn’t said or done anything since to make you think otherwise. Granted, he hasn’t said or done anything, period.

Once he arrives, you meet Namjoon, Burn The Stage’s manager. Jeongguk told you a little bit about him, but it was mostly just thinly-veiled thirsting. Now you see why.

He clarifies right off the bat that he already knows who you are, which saves you the anxiety of having to go through the whole routine again, and then he apologizes for being late.

“I was talking to reporters. I wanted the guys to be able to celebrate without having to do any interviews,” he explains as he shakes your hand with a dimpled smile. Damn. Yeah, you don’t blame Jeongguk one bit.

After a while, the champagne catches up with you and you have to excuse yourself to the bathroom.

The staff member that was dabbing Jeongguk’s sweat earlier—Minji, you learn—directs you out of the dressing room and to the nearest women’s bathroom further down the hallway.

You try to make it as quick as possible, much tipsier than you thought and all the more unstable in these shoes because of it. After one last check of your hair and makeup in the mirror, you make your exit, focusing down at your feet as you go.

Unfortunately, you run headfirst into someone’s chest in the process. Hands come up to grab your elbows, steadying you before you fall flat on your face. For a second, you think maybe Minji had been waiting to escort you back to the dressing room, but these are not a woman’s hands holding you up. Wait a second, you think. You definitely saw these ring-clad fingers displayed on a huge screen earlier. Strumming at a guitar, perhaps?

In a moment of amazing mental clarity on your part considering the state you’re in, you realize that these are Min Yoongi’s hands, and your head snaps up to look up at him.

“Yoongi-ssi! I’m so sorry!” You quickly right yourself to the best of your ability, pressing your hand to the wall next to you for support.

Once he’s sure you can hold yourself up without his help, Yoongi instantly retracts his hands, crossing his arms over his chest. “I should’ve been looking where I was going,” you add, doing your best to bow in apology without losing your balance again.

Yoongi tilts his head at you as if he’s assessing you, his gaze inscrutable. Man, for a lyricist this guy isn’t big on words. You’re just about to politely say goodbye and head back to the dressing room when he finally speaks.

“I’ve spent the past hour trying to figure out what your angle could possibly be, but I’m coming up short.”

Um. What?

“Huh?” you manage, blinking at Yoongi like he’s suddenly grown a second head.

“It’s not like your career’s in any trouble. Nobody thinks you're Korea’s angel or anything, but your shit reputation hasn’t stopped you from getting brand deals,” Yoongi continues, scoffing to himself. “Are you just bored? Is this what you do to amuse yourself?”

Uh oh. He knows. He knows for sure, and even worse, he thinks that you’re the mastermind.

“I seriously have no idea what you’re talking about,” you say, forcing your voice to remain level. You don’t even try to defend your reputation. It’s not like he’s wrong.

“Right,” Yoongi says, leaning in a little closer, like he’s about to tell you a secret. “Well, a word of advice. If you want people to buy that you’re really in love with Jeongguk, you could try to look less like you’re going to throw up when he touches you.”

FUCK. You thought you pulled it off. You thought you pulled it off, and now here’s Jeongguk’s goddamn hero telling you point-blank that you didn’t. You wrack your brain trying to think of anything you could possibly say to defend yourself, to get this guy off your ass, because this cannot be your fault. You’d never forgive yourself.

“I—”

“Or,” Yoongi starts, cutting you off. “You could just cut the bullshit and leave Jeongguk alone.” He pauses, rubbing his chin as if he’s pretending to think about it and then nodding once. “Yeah, let’s go with that one.”

Jesus Christ he’s a piece of work. You feel your fists clench at your sides, your nails digging painfully into your palms. You just got your nails done, and there’s a strong possibility you’ll draw blood, but it’s all you can do not to strangle this asshole right here and leave Burn The Stage without a guitarist.

“Yoongi-ssi,” you say, your words dripping with fake politeness. Fuck this guy, actually. “I don’t know what I’ve done to give you such a bad impression of me, but I assure you that Jeongguk and I are very much in love.”

“How many times do I have to tell you I don’t buy it?” Yoongi asks, voice tinged with impatience. “You may have everyone else in that room fooled, but not me, and if you hurt Jeongguk I can guarantee it won’t end well for you.”

“You don’t know anything about me,” you snap. “Again, I don’t know what the fuck I’ve done to make you think so poorly of me, but I meant what I said in there. I’m not going anywhere.”

You need to remove yourself from this interaction right now before you do something stupid like burst into tears. You take the opportunity to push past Yoongi before he gets a chance to say anything else, making sure to essentially shoulder check him in the process because again, fuck this guy.

You stalk down the hallway, feeling much more sober now. It’s as if all of the alcohol got forcibly drained from your system in the face of total fucking disaster, and you’re honestly thankful for it, because the last thing you need is this asshole seeing you actually fall.

For a moment, you’re fooled into thinking you’d successfully ended the conversation, but of course he needs the last word.

“I know more about you than you think, dollface.”

Dollface? The fuck?

You chance a glance behind you and you immediately regret it. Yoongi leans against the wall where you left him, an amused smirk spread over his face, and the sight immediately fills you with dread, a type of primal panic you haven’t felt in four years flooding your senses.

He doesn’t… He couldn’t know about that. There’s no possible way. Jeongguk doesn’t even know about that. Nobody does, because you’ve done everything in your meager power to keep it that way.

You whip your head back around to face front, your heels clacking on the crusty linoleum beneath them as you continue down the hallway. Don’t look back, you think. He doesn’t know.

You’re thankful that you brought your bag with you to the bathroom, because you’re very much not in the mood for a party now. Once you’re safely outside, you call your car and send a text to Jeongguk explaining your sudden escape. You felt sick, you tell him.

It’s not like it’s a lie.

Yoongi loves being on stage.

Over the past few years, there’s been a noticeable change in his demeanor. He’s become passive, apathetic to the normal day-to-day that comes with being a celebrity. Nothing really wows him anymore.

He remembers the way he reacted to the accommodations the band received when they first got signed. He was way too scared to ask for things at first, but the label gave it all to him anyway.

For instance, Yoongi’s always been particular about his stationery. The first time he filled a notebook after getting signed, he didn’t even think to consider it a company expense. Why would he? He was fully capable of buying his own shit, even if he had to save up for it. Sure, every time he had to write a lyric down on the back of a receipt his eye would twitch, but it wasn’t anything he hadn’t done before.

But the label guys noticed. Before he even had a chance to buy his next batch of notebooks and pens, he was sat down in a spacious meeting room and asked point-blank what he needed. When Yoongi gave them specifics—Leuchtturm 1917 unlined hardcover pocket journals and a fuckton of Uni-Ball Jetstream Premier pens—they didn’t even bat an eye. When he—rightfully—warned them that he might strangle someone if he’s handed a gel pen instead of a ballpoint, they just assured him that wouldn’t happen.

Ever since then, there’s been an endless supply of exactly what he needs, always within reach. He’s still grateful for that, of course, because he goes through those fuckers fast. But it’s just a fact of his life now. It’s not special to get his fucking Leuchtturms anymore, not when he could douse his entire supply with gasoline and burn it on a whim and still have a fresh one in his hand within mere minutes.

And it’s not just journals and pens.

Namjoon is the band’s representative. Yoongi picked him personally long before there was any contract, or even hope for one, and if everything were to go to shit tomorrow, Namjoon would still be there. But after the single from their second album charted on the Billboard Hot 100, a label-equivalent to Namjoon was hired, as if anybody could ever be equivalent to Namjoon. Park Hyunseok. Park Hyunseok, whose sole duty is to buzz around Yoongi and his bandmates like a pesky fly and “make sure they’re happy.” They quite literally want for nothing.

Yoongi remembers when his skin used to buzz with the emotions simmering just under the surface. He was fiery in his youth, pissed off and ready to prove a point. He felt everything strongly, fully.

Not so much these days. Anger is only marketable for so long, or so he’s been told.

For the past year, Yoongi’s felt numb to the world. And he’s dealt with it, of course. That’s what he does. The album did great, the tour sold out, the boys are happy. That’s really all that matters. He just doesn’t know how he’s going to write another fucking album if he’s got nothing to write about anymore.

Still, he loves being on stage. There’s nothing like it. It never gets old, never gets boring. He still hasn’t gotten used to the feeling of stepping onstage and feeling a crowd scream his name, scream his lyrics right back at him. Lyrics to songs that he wrote in his shoebox apartment when he was eighteen and it felt like nobody gave a fuck about him. Funny how things change.

Nobody can take that feeling away from him, even if they’ve taken all the other ones.

It’s been a good night. It feels good to be back in Seoul after being away for months, feels even better to be on this particular stage again. Yoongi always feels keyed up after a good show, itching to do something with all of the energy thrumming through his body, and tonight is no different. He’s almost giddy with the opportunity to celebrate this tour with his bandmates and Namjoon and then go home and crash. Home. Fuck, it’s a good night. He has a hot date with his king size bed.

But then you.

It’s been years since you’ve even been a thought in Yoongi’s brain, and he liked it that way. Unfortunately, it’s apparently true what they say: all good things must come to an end.

Yoongi sees right through you. He's met so many of your type in his life that even if he hadn’t met you before he would’ve been able to sniff you out the second you walked backstage. Users. Social climbers. The bored and braindead looking for their next toy. The exact kind of person he’s been trying to protect Jeongguk from this whole time, and now you’re on his arm.

And whatever, a hookup is one thing. Yoongi frankly doesn’t give a fuck where Jeongguk decides to stick his dick. The less he knows the better on that front. But a relationship? No, it isn’t real. Yoongi knows that much. Maybe it is for Jeongguk, but not for you. He's never even heard Jeongguk, hopeless romantic extraordinaire, talk about you.

Jeongguk introduces you as his girlfriend, and suddenly it’s like Yoongi’s watching a car crash in slow motion. He prays that he’s not alone, that Jimin and Taehyung have caught on to your piss-poor acting skills—seriously, you look like you’re about to pass out—but it looks like Yoongi’s entirely alone on this one. You have them wrapped around your little finger with minimal effort. He has a feeling that comes as naturally to you as breathing.

Of course, Yoongi has the added displeasure of having met you before, way back when. When you had the chance to be somebody, before you pissed it away, to what? To pout in front of a camera for a living? He thought he’d run out of ways to be wrong about you four years ago, but clearly you just can’t help yourself.

And of course you don’t remember him. Why would you?

Yoongi knows Jeongguk better than anybody. He also knows that thing people say about teenagers is true. If you tell them not to do something, they’ll only want to do it more. Jeongguk may be a grown man now, but he’s stubborn as fuck, and he never grew out of that. If he goes to Jeongguk and flat-out tells him that his girlfriend is a piece of human garbage, Jeongguk will only date her harder.

He tries to control the infection at the source by confronting you directly, but it’s clear the fire that he thought you lacked is, in fact, there, if only to piss Yoongi off.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you say.

Okay.

If that’s how you want to play, Yoongi can fucking play. He’s going to make you wish you’d left Jeongguk alone when he gave you the chance.

✧ shoot me a reply or an ask if you enjoyed this chapter! feedback is always appreciated <3 join my taglist if you want to be tagged in future fics!

✧ TAGLIST: @jajabro @pitchblack0309 @sugar-snap @ot72025 @ktownshizzle

@futuristicenemychaos @tea4sykes @sugainmybowl @namjoonsbuspass @wobblewobble822

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whirlpool-blogs · 2 months ago

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whirlpool's personal fic recs, part 2

well, it's been a minute since the first time I did this, so here's some more great fics I've read since then.

(this is a totally fresh list! if by chance you see a repeat from part 1, it's only because there's been an update to it since then)

-> Please let me know if any of my links are messed up, or if I got a tumblr handle wrong!

rarepairs/3somes/from perspective of other characters:

Biggest Dick on Base by @impalachick (Crosby/Bucky) you guys. this one is soooo hot. oh the dialogue is sooooo good. as the author says, "It's canon that Croz and Egan are the two horniest guys in the 100th" and this fic NAILS it!

dancing cheek to cheek (to cheek) by @meyerlansky (Curt/Bucky/Buck) Curt POV and it's soooo good, equal weight is given to the Curtbucky of it all, and there's this summering electricity in the Curtgale, and the Buckbucky devotion is so real, it's a true threesome fic and author absolutely nailed it!! also start taking your chances in the same series, WHEW!

I Get A Feeling That I Never Had Before by @darkimpala1897 (Clegan+Hambone) 978 words, so it's short but sweet! Funny and original and creative, and like, of COURSE this is how Buck discovers his feelings for Bucky & Ham.

Learning Curve by @hogans-heroes Clegan through the perspective of Alex Jefferson, explores his friendships with Buck and Bucky, and his observations of them from an outside view! Really heartbreaking and sweet and touching, such a great writing style.

Pegasus by merle_p (Rosie/Bucky) Egan is an absolute horny menace and a terrible authority figure sometimes lmao, and this fic gets it! Loved the characterization in this one. And the ending is just <3

Render Me a Wreck by @almost-a-class-act (Brady/Bucky) you guysssss you GUYSSSSSSS you KNOW I love me a Brady fic and holy shit this one is IT! this one is IT!!!! absolute masterpiece that comes roaring out of the gate and never lets up. a must-read!

save yours, and take mine from me by @corrosivesaints (Brady/Bucky) another Brady fic and I loveeeeee it!!! this author absolutely nails Brady's prickly little personality and the mutual trust and attraction between him and Bucky. and not just trust to not turn each other in, trust as in knowing they need to keep each other ALIVE. which is basically love. as the author said, "guys who are not normal about each other and never will be" <3

Squared Away by @meyerlansky (Curt/Bucky) wheeee you know i love me some John whump, and luckily Curt is there to give him what he needs <3 such a vivid writing style, love it!

the vein in my neck adores you by @galetops (Harding/Bucky) hardingbucky hARDINGBUCKY AAAAAAAAAAA!!!! bro!!!!!! oh it's so delicious, power abuse is one of my fave tropes and John gets fuckeddddddd OVER in this one. gripping. devastating tbh.

Would You Mind? by @johnslittlespoon @nicijones (Ken/Bucky and then Ken/Bucky/Gale) HOT! hot! HOT!!!!!! oh god I was literally melting....... KenBucky is so big brained and the way the authors characterize them is just. so good. did I mention it's HOT??!!?!?!

Clegan+Marge:

A Big Surprise by @sweaterkittensahoy (PerpetualMotion) (Clegan+Marge) MARGE GETS THE STRAP OUT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! biggest yeah buddy ever!!!!!!!

A Horse is Not a Home by @fascinationstrt (Clegan+Marge) Lovely and sweet, explores their post-war trauma and all of them coming together to support each other and also like. literally coming together. hee hee!!

Barefoot and Bareback by @soliloquy-dawn aaaaabrhrfhgh it's so HOT and physical and playful and fun!!! love the little notes of dom/sub floating in and out, truly just feels like you're watching something sweet and sexy between 3 people who love each other!

clegan fics:

3am eternal by @feyd-meowtha 90s club scene AU, oooff it gets messy, deals with the consequences of John's substance abuse and Gale's avoidance and overall both of their lack of communication, and god!! it's so good

a thousand feet per second by anonymous Sub Gale, Dom Bucky and it's delicioussssss, Gale is not doing well <3

another version of me, I was in it by @majorbuckyegan (brianmaybrianmay) post-war, hurt/comfort sex after Bucky has a nightmare reliving running through the forest. love when Gale gently leads Bucky to where he needs to go!!

baby doll eyes by @ladybundle John gets smashed on stalag hooch and ohhh it's hot and sad and beautiful and full of yearning!!!

Baby I’m on Fire & Keep Me Forever by @oopsiedaisiesbaby Teacher Gale and Student John (not underage fic) and yeesh!!! both of them are a menace tbh and I lovedddd both of these!!!

Before the Dawn by @atlanticslide THE stalag fic, like when I envision them in the stalag, it always turns out that I am just remembering something from this fic!!! especially the parts where they are in separate compounds and talking through the fence!?!?! like ouch. like wow. a slowwww burn and it's so worth it!

Branded by @hogans-heroes Gale stalag whump and protective Buckyyyyyyyyyy <3 oh my heart!!!! so good!!!

crossroads by @shipstorms (ipsilateral) has a BoB tag but you don't need any BoB knowledge for this fic!! Bucky and his unrequited love for Gale and it's ouch....it's oh.... I definitely recommend for the beautiful writing!

diamond eyes by @vveissesfleisch (cunninglinguist) whewwwwww dom gale and sub john and it's awesome!! jealousy and desperation and then getting their shit together in the end <3

Extinct Animals by @feyd-meowtha Mad Max AU, but as someone who has 0% familiarity of Max Max franchise, I can assure you no background knowledge is needed. this fic is BRUTAL. this fic is CRAZY!! it's heartbreaking and feral and raw and everyone is clawing for survival and it's soooooo well-written!

futile devices by @drylite ohhhhhh this one will forever be famous in my mind, John gets sick in the stalag and Gale takes care of him but it's so much more than that, this fic is HUGE to me, the feelings and John's descent into his stalag spiral, it's all so beautifully written!!

He Calls Me Bunny by @johnslittlespoon modern AU, John wears a bunny costume to their college Halloween party and Gale fucks him about it <33333333333 HEART EYES FOR THIS FIC!

hit me where the heart is by @london-cowboy / @luckydeuce Ohhhhh my god this fic. THIS FIC!!! modern BDSM AU, John is a medevac helicopter pilot who once transported Gale from a horrible private plane crash, and then they encounter again years later -- but like. ALSO THERE'S SO MANY OTHER THINGS GOING ON AND IT'S ALL MIND-BLOWING!!! past fucked-up Harding/John and current Harding/Gale and that's just the tip of the iceberg. so good. sooooooo good.

i followed fires by @swifty-fox Wild West/spooky supernatural AU. suing for emotional damages!!!!!! genuinely cried from this fic. and not just sniffle sniffle dab at my eyes. I'm talking tears streaming down my face, can't see anymore, this fic is HOLY SHIT WOW.

I think the love I bear you should make you not to die by @amiserableseriesofevents (WonderGinia) soooooo heartwrenching, multiple timelines and so many times they get so close but then lose each other

if it feels like love (then it must be love) by @rangerelizabeth College AU and it's a goddamn masterpiece!! John is Gale's RA and Gale navigates dorm life and college life and a new relationship and it's just. such a great journey from start to end!

jump the gun by @swifty-fox Part 2 of Outlaw AU (highly recommend Part 1 as well, obviously!) and whoa. hits you right in the gut. love love loveeee how swifty weaves the parallels between show canon and this au, while also keeping it super fresh and creative and you never know what's gonna happen next! there's one particular line that absolutely BROKE me......such a good read

kinktober 2024 by anonymous Goddddd. GODDDDDDDDD. Every time I got an update email for this fic, it was like get hand-delivered a delicious slice of chocolate cake that also happened to encompass like every single dirty kink and fantasy I've ever wanted to read???? author is big-brained. author is living in the 4th dimension. READ THESE!!

kiss my cheek, and pretend we're lovers by @euph0riacc Modern Au - Iraq War, and it's soooo creative and the desert setting is so well-described and the whole ensemble is weaved into this new imagining so well!! truly so creative and so well-executed, highly recommend a read!

knuckleball by @drylite PIT STUFF!!!!!!! PIT STUFF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! PIT STUFF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! let me tell you i was screaming pretty much through my entire reading experience of this. did i mention. pIT STUFF??????????????

let us not desert one another; we are an injured body by @irregularcollapse cannibalism fic oh my godddd oh it's sickeninggggg (positive) it's crazy (positive) it's insane (positive)!!

Looking for Eight by @weimarweekly (VoluptuousPanic) modeln rodeo AU. absolutely blows my mind, every single chapter is so perfectly written, it's vivid and it's sweet and it's truly alive!! definitely take your time to savor each paragraph...so worth it.

love means nothing (in tennis) by @irregularcollapse this was in my part 1, but it's had an updateeeeee since then, so go read it!!! gale's orthorexia and overexercising goes brrrrrr

Moecher by @inpotatoeswetrust (Razor_to_the_rosary) fantastic, very show-like dialogue, love the Curt & Bucky friendship keeping it reallll, deals with John's slippery descent into his alcohol abuse and how hard it is to pull oneself out of that path!! but also like. john jerking off to a stolen letter from Gale. dry humping. HOT!!!

never falter or fail by anonymous Post-war John is in the hospital with temporary amnesia after a flight crash, he's getting visitors from his war days, but perhaps not everyone is who they claim to be....really creative, beautiful storytelling!! i'm hooked!!!

No Proof, One Touch by @c-goldthorn sweat kink!!! pit stuff!!! oh you knowwwww I'm here for it! it's flight school and it's so sweeeeeet too i love them so much your honor

Only You Can Cool my Desire by @johnslittlespoon a one-shot in the Tough and Sweet AU (which you should totally check out!!), Gale's POV this time and oohhh overstimulated, begging, overheated John <3

Rack 'Em Up and Knock 'Em Down by @happy-days19 a whump collection, each chapter is a one-shot and super creative and varied!! love it!!

release, please (no longer on ao3) by anonymous Oh goddd I wish I knew who wrote this, if you're out there plssssss shoot me a message, I love this fic so much!!!! Gale lets John piss himself and then he lets him come and christttt. I legit have this saved on my google drive because it's just like. everything to me.

Sous Le Ciel de Paris by @rambleonwaywardson Modern Olympics AU, Gale is an equestrian and John is a gymnast, super creative and well-researched (as ALWAYS by this author!!) and also HORSIES and also JOHN INJURY! hee hee <3

Stripper, Occasionally Hooker by @donotnomi Modern AU, lawyer Gale and dancer John, this AU is everythinggggg to me!!!! corporate intrigue!! paulina and harding at the law office and ensemble at the club! I can't even put into words how sexy and hot and mindblowing stripper john is, somewhere in the realm of surface of the sun perhaps???? I LOVE THIS FIC OH MY GODDDD. I EAT IT UP. I RE-READ IT CONSTANTLY. go read it, I beg of youuuu

Wind in the Wire by @livelaughlove-write extreme gale whump in the stalag, such a great concept and love seeing the author explore it here!

windfall by @rangerelizabeth modern meet-cute, John meets Gale in a corn maze and pretends to be lost so that they can spend more time together <3 so cute!!

Wrapped Around Your Finger (You Say That I'm A Home Run) by @johnslittlespoon Gale cleans up John's face after he picks a fight, and he's a little mean about it and then they fuck about it and it's great!!!

You Don’t Ever Have to be Stronger Than You Really Are by @oopsiedaisiesbaby ABO fic yeah baby!!! except they're stuck in the stalag and they're both miserable and hungry and itching to get out and oh it hits so good!

You, Me, and the Sky by @oopsiedaisiesbaby Major Character Death, so mind the tags, heartbreaking and gripping and terrifying and beautiful and sad!

"You were doing all this to a toothpick?" by anonymous Gale's oral fixation.....yeah you know where this is going >:-)

Your Idiot by @eternallytired17 John gets hit on a mission and doesn't register it until he's literally collapsing wheeeee!!! so good!!!

#mota fic #john egan #gale cleven #john brady #curt biddick #once again mindblown at how talented this fandom is!!!#i love you allllllll #post

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callmebrycelee · 4 months ago

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Advice from a Queer Almost-40 BuckTommy Shipper

Over the last several months, there's been a one-sided war brewing between Buddie shippers and BuckTommy shippers. As we get ready for Season 8, I want to give all of you fellow BuckTommy/Tevan/Kinley shippers some advice:

Do NOT let them ruin something truly groundbreaking and special.

I repeat:

Do NOT let them ruin something truly groundbreaking and special.

Let me take you way back to the early-2010s. Glee was quite popular in the cultural zeitgeist. The show spawned a plethora of ships including Finchel, Brittana, Samcedes, and Fabrey. However, there was one ship that reigned supreme on Beyoncé and Al Gore's internet. If you were on Tumblr during this time you definitely remember the chokehold Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson aka Klaine had on the Glee fandom.

Now I'll admit, at first, I was into the two glee club gays being together but then episode 2x06 aired. For those of you unfamiliar with the show, episode 2x06 titled "Never Been Kissed" is episode where closeted football jock Dave Karofsky cornered Kurt in the boys' lockerroom and kissed him. What followed was some of the best storytelling in the history of the show.

Over the next few seasons, we watched Dave Karofsky come to terms with his sexuality, apologize to Kurt for his relentless bullying, finally embrace his sexuality, get outed, and attempt to un-alive himself. Those of us who initially hated Dave and his initial treatment of Kurt became fans of him due to how realistic he was. If you went to high school in the early-2000s, chances are you either knew someone like Karofsky or you were him. That's why he resonated with so many of us in the queer community.

However, the showrunners weren't invested in Dave and Kurt becoming an item. You have to remember, this was the era of listening to the fandom and giving them exactly what they wanted. The fandom wanted Rachel and Finn to be together so that's what we got. The fandom wanted Brittany and Santana to be together so that's what we got. And what the fandom wanted was Kurt and Blaine.

Till this day, I still resent the fact that the showrunners and writers went the safe route when it came to couples on Glee. For the most part, all of their main pairings were expected and boring. Over a decade removed from the show, a lot of folks have come around to the idea that maybe Kurt and Blaine aren't the #couplegoals they initially thought. A lot of us will forever wonder just how different (and possibly better) the show would have been if they took a chance on Kurt and Dave.

Fast-forward to the year 2024. We have, on another Ryan Murphy show, Klaine and Kurtofsky 2.0. The moment Eddie came on the scene back in Season 2, folks on the internet started shipping him with Buck. Nevermind that these two were coded as platonic friends, here we had, once again, two good-looking guys played by two actors who have impeccable chemistry.

Much like Klaine, a lot of us see Buddie as boring. The ship smacks of cis straight women overlly fascinated by two good-looking, masculine guys. It reminds me of the overabundance of m/m romance written by straight women which have little interest in showcasing real queer male relationships and instead serve as fantasy fulfillment for straight women using two queer men as avatars to satisfy what they feel is lacking in their own heterosexual relationships. I don't necessary have a problem with those books existing but I do take issue with that kind of storytelling overshadowing queer male content written by queer male writers.

Whew! Now that I got that out of my system, let me tell you what I loved most about the latest season of 9-1-1. It seems the showrunners and writers of this show took note of what happened with Glee and they decided to go a different route. Instead of listening to the relentless noise on the internet, they have decided to not go the safe route.

Enter: Tommy Kinard.

The romance between Buck and Tommy is truly revolutionary. As someone who grew up consuming the queer media of the 90s and early-2000s, it is quite refreshing to have a couple like Evan Buckley and Tommy Kinard on primetime television. I love that many of the scenes between these two is just slice of life. Very similar to the scenes we get between Athena and Bobby and Chimney and Maddie. I've always said that true equality is when queer people can be just as mundane as straight people. Mission accomplished. Finally, we have two queer characters just existing and being happy. No AIDS. No gay-bashing. No Don't Ask Don't Tell. No epic coming out scene. Buck and Tommy are a shining example of what queer couples can and should look like in the 2020s.

So, back to my original point. When it comes to the great ship war, please do NOT let them ruin something so groundbreaking and special. If the showrunners wanted , they could have made Buck and Eddie a thing years ago. However, that's not the direction they wanted to venture. Thank you Tim Minear for not going the safe route. I look forward to all of the rich storytelling we will get in Season 8 and I have decided that whatever happens, I'm going to enjoy this era of 9-1-1. Oliver Stark and Lou Ferrigno Jr. are amazing actors but so are Angela Bassett and Peter Krause and Aisha Hinds and Kenneth Choi. All of the actors on this show, whether main or guest or supporting, are putting their whole self into crafting the characters we know and love. Regardless of what ship you champion, keep in mind that behind these beloved characters are real, human actors who do not deserve to be bullied and harrassed and threatened due to them simply doing their job. At the end of the day, everything we see on the screen is fiction.

Okay, this has gotten really long. Stepping off of my soapbox. Remember ladies and gentlemen, it's just a show. And although it makes us feel real emotions, 9-1-1 nor Glee is real life.

#911 abc #glee #klaine #kurtofsky #bestie boos #bucktommy #kinley #tevan #evan buckley #tommy kinard #oliver stark #lou ferrigno jr #tim minear

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chereus · 1 year ago

Text

Oblivious Boyfriends | D. Winchester

Summary - Dean had been neglecting his boyfriend bedroom duties and you were getting frustrated [set in season 10ish, they’re fully moved into the bunker]

Pairings - SoftDom!Dean x Fem!Reader

Warnings - Dom Dean, daddy kink, if you squint there’s angst before the blinding smut, spanking, choking, hair pulling, p in v, unprotected sex, breeding kink, hot angry Dean, sexual tension, talk about love and marriage??? Kinda??? It was done tastefully though I promise!!!

Cherry’s notes: Whew! That was spicy—in honor of my new phone I decided I’d post this as a thanks to people who’ve supported me throughout my writing journey <3. I’m still getting used to this writing format that tumblr has so pls be nice!!!

P.S ~ This may have been sorter than intended due to tumblr deleting half of this while I wasn’t looking. Still upset about that. Also sorry for the time delay because of said tumblr issues, had to rewrite most of it + an ending -_-.

Word count: about 1.2k

You were kind of being a bitch today. But in your defense, your boyfriend Dean had been so busy with work that he hardly had time to satisfy your in the bedroom needs. When you’d try and communicate that this was becoming an issue you’d been brushed off every. single. time. So naturally you started to get frustrated and decided to take control into your own hands for the time being.

“Y/n, have you seen my gun?” Dean announced himself as he stumbled into the library. You just continued to sit there and do your research without so much as a morsel of acknowledgment.

He cleared his throat and tried again, “Y/n have you seen my gun?” only this time he got a small clench of the jaw and a silent flare of the nostrils. Still with no response he decided to try a third time when you suddenly just got up and left leaving him completely alone in the library.

Wondering what he did he promptly followed you, but once he realized he wasn’t getting far by just following in your footsteps he bravely spoke, “Okay, seriously, is this how we’re acting today?”.

This immediately caught your attention but you showed no signs of making a huge scene so you quickly and calmly stopped while turning around to face him while replying with, “I don’t know Dean, is it?”.

He really didn’t like the passive aggressiveness in your tone. It hadn’t helped that you’d quickly spun around and once again resumed ignoring him. Being ignored was one of his top ten pet peeves and you knew it. That’s exactly why you chose this method to piss him off. Get him all worked up, he’d have to take his frustrations out on you then.

“What the hells’ that supposed to mean?” He countered, following you into the kitchen.

“It means that if you don’t know then it’s not worth talking about.” You said truthfully. Suddenly Dean found himself recalling the days to see if he’d missed a birthday, a dinner, an anniversary, anything that would constitute this type of treatment and he came up empty.

As you noticed Dean sitting there dumbfounded you took it upon yourself to grab one of his beers from the fridge and march back out successfully initiating phase one.

You’d been toying with the idea for quite some time but never had the means or justification until now, you were going to go around the house and dump all of the alcohol.

This was seemingly easy considering after your and deans little spat, he’d decided to give you some space to cool off seeing that you were angry with him. It gave you the perfect opportunity to do what you needed to do. This was phase two.

Phase three was to just sit back and watch the anger seep from deep within Dean Winchesters veins until he couldn’t see anything but red.

Sam had been on a hunting trip for the last couple of days and you were thankful because the things he would’ve heard…

“Y/N! Where is all the beer?!” Dean hollered as you passed him in the kitchen.

“I dumped it.” You simply said. Deans face went slate.

“You-you…dumped it.” He said as both a statement and a question. You could see the vein on the side of his neck start to pop and you knew he was close to blowing a gasket at how he had been treated.

“Yup. I dumped it. Decided that we’re now alcohol free. Have fun with your green juices and detox tea.” You were beginning to walk away when he grabbed you and spun you back around so that your chests were touching and he was holding your wrists on both sides of your head.

“Is there something that needs to be sorted out? Cause’ I’m getting’ real tired of the way things have been going around here.” He seethed. He probably just wanted a nice cold beer after working a long hard case all day but you weren’t about to let that happen. You were horny and determined to do something about it.

You got closer to his face and begun to look into his eyes while simultaneously brushing your lips together with his. Nudging your nose against his you whispered, “if there was a problem you’d know.” And you ripped yourself away from him and swiftly dropped out of the room beginning to feel yourself getting wetter by the instant.

Not even ten seconds later Dean came marching out of the kitchen behind you demanding that you work this out by pushing you against the hallway wall. You responded by grabbing him by his belt loops and smashing his hips against yours. He’d finally gotten the hint.

“Is this what you wanted? Was my pretty baby just horny and desperate for her daddies attention?” He said as he grabbed you by the throat and kissed you. You whimpered at the gruffness of his touch, desperate and craving more.

“I need you to answer me, y/n. You know daddy doesn’t like it when you go silent.” Dean enforced. You let out the tiniest little ‘yes’ lost in your own world of pleasure and fulfillment.

“Louder, y/n.” He commanded putting slightly harder pressure onto the sides of your throat that were sure to bruise later but you didn’t care. The feeling of his body on your body was enough to drive you wild.

“Yes!” You deeply moaned wrapping your hands around his hips and flushing your pelvis’s together. Dean leaned down and planted an earth shattering kiss on your lips, tongue swirling around with your own while he still held the position of holding your neck firmly in place without making you dizzy from the lack of air.

“Up.” Dean forced. Slipping his hand under your thighs and wrapping your legs around his torso. When you were situated your hands found their way to his hair to gently tug at the roots.

Hiking you up by your ass you were looming over him with every adjustment. Your hands made their way to either side of his face while you ferociously kissed him. He started to stumble his way down the hallway, careful not to drop you. You moaned as his grip on your ass got tighter the more aroused he was getting.

The warm smell of cinnamon from your hair, the combined scent your vanilla bourbon perfume and your honey body lotion, it reminded him of home. Although you’d been getting in spats and arguments all day you’d still somehow made him feel loved and cared for by the way you’d responded to his touch.

It was at this very moment he decided that he wanted to marry you. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, or hell— maybe not even next week, but someday If you’d let him.

Finally stumbling into your shared room dominant Dean was back in action. He gently put you down and then shoved you back onto the bed signifying the fact that he was done playing the game you’d been playing all day.

When you adjusted yourself on the bed he immediately ripped your pants off annoyed at the extra fabric keeping the two of you apart. Dipping down he gently put his right hand to your jaw and repeated what you had to him earlier. Brushing your lips together your noses tenderly touched and he gave you one last affectionate kiss before looking down at your tank top and ripping it in two.

Your eyes widened with desire, you’d never seen Dean like this and it was extremely sexy. The mix of softhearted kissing and rough manhandling was driving you insane. Kissing down your stomach the torn shirt was quickly discarded never to be seen again.

Only in your bralette and underwear you start to feel cold with Dean still fully clothed. Grabbing him by his hair you pull his head up from your panty line. Giving him a single peck on the lips you start to peel off the layers of flannel and cotton until his top half was fully nude.

Reaching down to undo his belt buckle he stops you with a questioning glare. He shoves your hands away and moved away from the bed and to the closet where a medium sized black box was laying on the top shelf. Getting that box down you knew that something freaky was about to happen.

Pulling out four long black ropes he looks back at you with a smirk. You gulp and back away slowly, however he was faster and started tying your left wrist tightly to the headboard. Positioning you in the middle of the bed he ties your right to the other side of the headboard.

Deciding to discard the last two ropes, he resumes your playful foreplay now teasing you at the fact that you can no longer touch him in the way you wanted to.

“M’ gonna fuck you in this pretty little bra. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Been walking around all day getting on my nerves so I’d have no choice but to fuck the aggression out. Well, you should be careful what you wish for.” He says menacingly pulling off your underwear.

Leaving your bare pussy in the cold Dean jumps off the bed and begins to slowly undress. And I mean slowly. You thought you were about to combust when you finally saw Dean unbuckle his pants and slowly drop them.

Getting back on the bed Dean slides his hands up and down your curves on your sides, trailing down to your hip bones and finally your throbbing heat. It really was no surprise that you’d gotten worked up so easy considering you and Dean hadn’t had really any sex in almost four months. Orgasms, yes. Sex, no.

It was killing you not being intimate with Dean like you used to. So when he finally put his cold hands on your warm aching pussy you could’ve cried in relief even though it was only through your panties you could feel his fingertips rubbing up against your clit causing you to softly moan in delight.

Gripping the tightly tied ropes Dean tormented you by pulling off your panties and just sat there. Staring. It would’ve made you insecure had you not known that Dean would’ve loved you no matter what you perceived your vagina to look like.

“Would you let me put a baby in you?” Dean asks out of the blue. Your eyes widened and your breath hitched, “In the future of course. Your still on birth control, right?” He thought out loud. You were speechless so all you could do was nod and let out a small ‘uh-huh’.

Dean could tell you were now really tense after that question so he took his hands and smoothed them over your stomach and said, “Don’t worry. Not until your ready. But until then, I’d like to practice.”

Your muscles were slowly untensing as Dean assured you there would be no baby making until your ready. “If we’re practicing, do you mind going in raw? I’d like to be closer with you.”

Dean was now blushing but tried to hide it through dominance. He spread your knees apart and quickly dove in licking and sucking your clit. Pulling at the ropes, you moaned and groaned until you were so close to cumming that you could cry.

Dean could tell how close you were so he sped up his tongue motions and hooked his arms around the base of your thighs so you couldn’t move anywhere.

“Oh fuck!” You moaned as your first orgasm took over you. Dean wasted no time in sliding his manhood into you with great force.

Putting his hands at your hips he began roughly thrusting into you at an angle that kept hitting your g-spot over an over again. As you were getting louder and louder with your moans Dean reached down in between your legs and rubbed your clit. He was fucking you so hard at this point you were seeing spots.

“Yeah. Your such a good girl. Taking it so good for me. Gonna be doing this to make a baby one day, huh sweetheart. Look at me.” He said as your eyes were starting to droop. Your eyes tiredly opened and you seen Dean look at you like your the queen of the world. His world. With adoration and love.

“Gonna let me fill you up, hmm? Gonna let me take care of you while your carrying our child? Gonna let me go out at three am to fill some ridiculous request of bread and butter pickles from that grocery store half an hour away?” Dean asks with a fond smirk on his face. Like he’d be so excited to be able to do those things for you.

Just hearing how happy it would make Dean to be your caretaker in your time of need makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Not just because he’s still fucking the life out of you.

Once you get close enough to the edge Dean starts to get greedy. He wants you to cum and he wants it now. “Give it to me y/n. Now.” He says wrapping his hand around your throat and pounding into you like there’s no tomorrow.

Seconds later it felt like fireworks had been let off in your stomach with how hard you were orgasming. At one point you were certain that you were seeing stars.

“Fuck! Dean!” You moaned as you made other noises that you had no idea you could even make. Before you could even come down Dean slipped out of you and was undoing the ropes.

“All fours. Now.” Was the command. Still a little dizzy, you comply wanting to see where this was going.

Upon getting on all fours dean was already behind you thrusting upwards at a new angle. Letting out a deep groan you dropped to your elbows and grabbed the sheets.

“Having that attitude all day really drove me nuts all day, y’know that? Now I get to fuck it out of you and I couldn’t be happier.” He said slapping your ass hard. You yelped and tried to go forward but his hands at the crease of your hip and thigh bone wouldn’t let you.

“Your not going nowhere. Your gonna sit here and let me breed you like a good little slut.” You couldn’t deny hearing those words made the sex ten times hotter. When you leaned your head back to moan deans hand was there to grab you by your hair and continue fucking your pussy until you exploded.

Pulling your hair was the final step in your third and final orgasm. Pulling away slightly at the overstimulation Dean speeds up, chasing his own climax. With one last grunt Dean came spilling into you with force.

“Oh God,” you shuddered, suddenly very cold. Goosebumps lining your skin, you get off the bed leaving Dean to fend for himself.

After you cleaned up you got back in bed with Dean. “Did you really mean what you said? Do you really want kids with me?” You asked as you lifted up the covers where Dean currently resided.

“Well yeah, I’d also like to put a ring on your finger too whenever you’ll let me.” Dean said shyly playing with the edging on the covers.

You quietly smiled and kissed Dean as you settled down. “I love you, and I want to marry you. But kids are out for a while. At least until I’m sure one of us isn’t going to end up dead with the shit we deal with on the daily. I won’t put another generation of kids what we went through. I just won’t.”

Although Dean was disappointed, he understood. His childhood sucked and he’d do anything to make sure that his kid didn’t live the same life.

“But we can still practice though, right?” Dean asked cheekily. You laughed, “yes Dean we can still practice.”

You both chuckled when you heard a voice booming from the kitchen, “Dean, where is all the beer?!” It was Sam.

“You were kidding though about the beer weren’t you?” He asked and you laughed harder.

“No, I wasn’t. I was committed. I really dumped all the alcohol in the house. Sam will understand given his healthy lifestyle.” Dean groaned and sunk into the mattress. You were still cracking up at the whole situation now that you felt better after your release.

#dean winchester #supernatural #supernatural smut #dean winchester smut #jack kline #team free will #sam winchester #spn crack #the empty #sam and dean #kevin tran #deancas #dean and cas #castiel winchester

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shadowdaddies · 1 year ago

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Hellooooo 🫶🫶

I have another request if that's alright :)

Can you do one where Az meets his mate in an Illyrian camp but she's pregnant with another males baby(a male she was basically sold to by her family like a forced marriage) and he finds the guy and beats the ever loving shit out of him and whisks her away to the House of Wind and just worships her? But can you make it like soul crushingly angsty?

Thank you and you don't have to if you have to many reqs rn 🫶🫶

whew this is a long one and tbh it could've been a whole series. It's quite angsty but with a very fluffy ending. It's a different writing style for me so idk how I feel about it but I hope you enjoy it💜

New Hope

Azriel x f!Reader

Warnings: depictions of DV/abuse, some suggestiveness, non-sexual nudity

The first time Azriel saw you was in Emerie’s clothing shop. You had convinced your father to take you to her store for your engagement dress, an agreement he begrudgingly made in exchange for your cooperation in the marriage.

You were browsing through the fabrics, eyeing a lapis blue silk piece when Azriel entered, the cold air rushing in behind him sending a shiver down your spine. The door closed, yet the breeze continued, whipping around you erratically. Confused, you looked up from the fabrics to see a blushing shadowsinger watching in horror as his shadows swarmed you, dancing and weaving through your hair and clothes.

The giggle that left your lips at the scene made Azriel’s heart leap in his chest, the male breathless as he was struck by the sight of the most beautiful female he had ever seen. When you turned to face him, the shimmering fabric in your hand reflected the light in your eyes, and time stopped. The world tilted on its axis as a thread in Azriel’s chest snapped, and he understood who he was looking at. His mate.

Just then, your father grabbed your arm, drawing you out of the moment as he tossed the blue fabric to Emerie, declaring that it would be sufficient for the engagement dress. Azriel’s heart sank in his chest. Of course the cauldron would have him meet his mate when she was already engaged to someone else.

It was then that the shadowsinger made the decision - that as long as you were happy with your husband, he wouldn’t interfere. However, after that day, Azriel found himself inventing every excuse to venture to Windhaven, just to see you and make sure you were okay.

One day, you approached him in town. He was shocked that you recognized him, both of you unaware of the draw that you felt towards him.

~~~

The marriage was loveless. You knew that your husband didn’t truly care for you from the moment you met, but it was an advantageous arrangement for both families that you be wed. It broke your heart to learn that you would be married for anything other than the love you dreamed of as a little girl, but you clung to hope, and believed that you and your husband might learn to love one another over time.

That never happened. After the wedding, a new side of your husband revealed itself. At first, he shocked you by raising his voice, making callous and cruel comments - but that was nothing new for you as a female in Windhaven. Life was lonely, often times you found yourself crying silently until you fell asleep, terrified as your husband became increasingly aggressive, and sometimes violent.

It was one day that you poured the milk out of the window at home to give yourself an excuse to head into town for more, when you saw Azriel. You had noticed the shadowsinger around Windhaven far more over the past months, and you were grateful for his presence. Although you didn’t know him, seeing him around gave you a sense of calm that you couldn’t describe - the world was a little less lonely. Unsure of what invisible force was guiding you across the street to where he stood, your feet acted of their own accord as you found yourself standing a foot away from Azriel.

“Hi, Azriel,” you greeted, a pleasant smile on your face. Despite the freezing temperatures, the feeling of those shadows dancing through your hair brought you a joy like you had never felt before.

Hazel eyes widened as the spymaster looked at you with surprise. “You know my name?”

You giggled, the sound like music to Azriel’s ears as you nodded. “Of course, everyone knows who you are.” You didn’t include how often you had thought of him since that day in Emerie’s shop.

The two of you started up a friendship after that. The highlight of your day was when you were able to escape your husband, finding your best friend in town - the male in the shadows who always made you feel seen. Azriel was kind, unlike any other male you had known, his warm smile always making you feel safe.

And then you were pregnant. You cried, unable to find the energy to leave your house for days when you learned you were going to have a child. Growing up, dreaming of having a family of your own, you never envisioned that it would be like this. Your husband came home from the tavern to find you crying, smacking you across the face with the back of his hand. When you cried harder, he hit you again. The tears only stopped falling when your vision finally faded to black, and you lay unconscious on the floor.

You awoke the next morning, pain radiating throughout your body. The glance you dared in the mirror wasn’t necessary to tell you how you must look, but it was confirmation. Dried blood trailed from your nose, black circles under your eyes from the pressure of how hard he hit you.

Silver lined your eyes, but tears would not fall. A new sharpness edged your expression, mirroring the resolution you felt inside. This male would never make you cry again. You quickly left the house, headed towards Emerie’s shop in desperation for help. You didn’t care what it would cost you - your child deserved a better life than Windhaven.

~~~

Azriel almost fell to his knees when he saw you for the first time in nearly a week. He had accepted the fate that you no longer needed his friendship, that you were happy with your husband. But when his shadows whispered to him that you were injured, cobalt siphons glowed as the shadowsinger barely leashed his concern.

A lump formed in Azriel’s throat when he took in your appearance. The scarf that you had pulled over your nose to cover most of the bruises didn’t disguise the scent of your blood - or your pregnancy. He hardly registered that you were carrying that male’s child, his main focus on what happened to you.

His heart might burst at how your eyes lit up when you noticed him in the street - how you ran to him, your body so small compared to his as you wrapped him in a hug. That bursting heart shattered when he heard your wince as he hugged you back. “What happened to you?” Azriel murmured, deathly quiet.

You swallowed, looking up at him with those beautiful eyes that had turned his world upside down that day in Emerie’s shop - those eyes that now seemed so hollow, missing the life they once held. Unable to find the words of last night’s events, you could only manage to tell Azriel, “I need to get my baby out of here. I can’t... my husband will never be near this child.”

The venom in your voice as those last words left you told Azriel everything he needed to know. “Do you trust me?” You nodded, still clinging to Azriel as tight as you could without hurting yourself. He pressed a kiss to your hair, wrapping you gently in his arms. “I’m going to get you to a home and a healer.”

~~~

No sooner had the words left his mouth than you found yourself engulfed by shadows, spirited away to a cozy living room in a large, warm home. “Welcome to Velaris,” Azriel whispered, gently turning you around to face the view of a beautiful city unlike that which you’d ever seen. The sun was setting over the mountains, casting a pinkish hue across the sky and you thought you must be in paradise. “Come on, I’ll take you upstairs to clean up.”

Azriel took your hand, helping as you slowly climbed the grand staircase up to a luxurious bedroom. It was tidy, with a massive bed and a seating area around a hearth, a crackling fire casting a warm glow over the room. The space smelled like rain and cedar, and you realized that you were in Azriel’s bedroom.

Grief hits at the worst times, and in the strongest waves. And it was grief - for your old home, for your child’s life with a father, for any hope of what you dreamed your life would be - that overcame you as you crumpled to the ground, sobs tearing from your body as Azriel knelt in front of you.

Finding the courage to look up, you found hazel eyes watching you with a tenderness that you had never felt before, and the breath left your lungs as the cord snapped in your chest. Azriel let out a noise between a laugh and a choked cry as scarred hands held your battered and bruised face. “You... You’re my mate?” The words left you in little more than a whisper, the hope behind them more dangerous than you could allow yourself to feel.

With a soft smile and a somehow softer touch, Azriel brushed the hair that had fallen into your eyes, tucking it behind your ear as he nodded. “I promised myself that I wouldn’t intervene as long as you were happy, but I will be here for you. As a friend, or whatever you need. I am yours, and I will care for you and that baby as much or as little as you want me to be. I am here for you.”

His words ignited something in you - a hope that the love and the family that you had dreamed of was possible. Without another thought, you pulled Azriel into a searing kiss, his eager reciprocation the validation you needed as you allowed yourself to enjoy this moment. You pulled away, forehead resting against Azriel’s as you breathed, “I want you. In every way, I want you, Azriel. You are the best thing in my life, and I don’t want to part from you.”

Azriel’s smile was brighter than the sun. “You have me,” he whispered, “and I will spend the rest of my existence loving you.”

You couldn’t tell how long you stayed there, holding each other on the floor of the bedroom before Azriel dared to interrupt the moment. “I have a bath ready for you in the other room.”

Looking to him with mock offense, you gaped. “Are you saying I smell, shadowsinger?”

The laugh that left his lips fueled you with enough joy for years to come, Azriel leaning forward to kiss the tip of your nose. “Not at all, but the healer, Madja, is coming soon, along with Rhys and Feyre. I thought you might want to clean up before Madja tends to you, and I will bring you some clean clothes.”

Azriel helped you up, the male respectfully looking away as you undressed and stepped into the tub, immediately relaxing your aching muscles. You giggled at his propriety, reveling in the twitch of Azriel’s wing at the sound. He cleared his throat, announcing that he would wait in the other room when you winced.

Azriel whipped around, his eyes wide as he searched you with concern. Giving him a weak smile, you slowly lowered your arm that was reaching for the soap. “I don’t think I can wash my hair myself. Would...you be able to help me, Az?”

He swallowed thickly, giving you a slight nod as he mutely moved behind you. You laughed slightly at his obvious nerves. “I’m not shy, Az. Don’t worry,” you promised. He seemed to relax slightly behind you as his hands lathered your hair with soap, gently massaging it into your scalp. You bit back the tears that threatened to spill as you realized no one had ever taken care of you like this in your life - instead reaching your hand up, Azriel meeting you halfway as he held it, lowering to press a kiss to the bruised skin.

Angling your head back, you looked up into those hazel eyes, pulling on his hand in silent request. Azriel leaned down to kiss you softly, but you wanted more, deepening the kiss as you pulled him further. Azriel stumbled, catching his balance as he almost fell into the water.

He chuckled, sitting back up to rinse out your hair. Azriel’s eyes darkened as he scented your arousal, shaking his head at the smirk that played on your lips. “As much as I would love to pleasure you right now, Rhys just informed me that they are almost here.” He walked around to the side of the tub, crooking one finger under your chin. “And when I do make love to you, I plan to worship you until my body gives out.”

A shiver ran down your spine at the promise, your mind struggling to stay focused as you took the towel from Azriel and stepped out of the bath. You got dressed, sitting down on the bed just as a knock sounded at the door. The High Lord and High Lady entered, waving off your attempts at formality as the healer introduced herself.

The High Lady - Feyre - as she insisted you call her, stayed with you the entire time as Madja tended to your injuries and checked on the baby. Azriel stood in the corner with Rhysand, the two males talking in hushed tones.

Madja cleared you and the baby, giving you several tonics to take for your injuries and told you that she would be back in another week to check on you and the baby. Feyre and Rhysand didn’t linger long, Madja insisting that you needed the rest and that the “chit-chat” could happen later.

You patted the space next to you in bed, inviting Azriel to come sit, and laid your head on his chest as you let your eyes drift shut. “Az, what were you discussing with the High Lord? If you don’t mind me asking.”

You felt him tense behind you for a moment, silence hanging in the air as Azriel seemed to weigh his words carefully. “Rhys has been made aware of what happened to you, and we’ve made sure that those responsible will not be responsible for any further pain, to you or anyone else.”

As understanding dawned on you of what Azriel meant, you were surprised at the lack of sorrow you felt for your husband and father. Rather, you felt a deeper peace for the first time in your life, as both you and Azriel brought your hands to rest on your womb, a silent promise that your baby would have a better childhood than you had. That together, you had a renewed hope for a better life.

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vampiretendencies · 2 years ago

Text

i would die for your heaven

summary; everything jj would do taking a shower with you; headcanon version

authors note; this is a HEADCANON, i wanted to title it something meaningful though. requests are open, or if you’d like more of these that as well :) and this is a short one but i’m working on multiple things rn.

warning; this is fluff

pairing; jj x fem!reader

If JJ hears shower water running and he’s not there, he will pester you into letting him join always. He could literally be in the middle of smoking a blunt, either way he’s hauling it toward the bathroom.

Who does she think she is? To shower alone? Without me? He’d think to himself everytime.

Literally taken aback.

JJ always sees it as a two for one, he gets endless touching and everlasting glances at your figure from the moment he got in to the moment he got out.

But he wasn’t always languishing that shower in a sexual manner.

It was desirable to give his ethereal devotion to you.

In every way, all the love he kept hidden for years was reserved for a company such as yours.

This fascination of having you in any way you’d allow him to.

He’d always ease his way into the bathroom coming up with some excuse.

“Man, I suddenly have to brush my teeth”

“Whew what do you know, gotta’ piss now!”

Or he’d just just come out say “If you don’t let me shower with you, m’gonna make a scene!”

Either way JJ knew you’d give into him, there was no doubt in his mind. Reminding you of the time you said he was irresistible.

And a plus is that it’s JJ, like look at him.

You’d have some sort of melodic tune brewing into the steamy shower air

and he’d eagerly peek his head in through the curtain.

“Fuck, I made a good choice, when I chose you,” he’d ramble on to compliment you. “Sometimes a man just really needs a pat on the back for that.”

“You aren’t getting one.”

He’d smirk, knowing full well you were lying through your teeth.

“You know you want to, baby.”

“Don’t just stand there, get in!”

JJ would strip to nothing, nearly tripping over himself to gawk at you. He pulls the curtain open wide, happily stepping in, whilst you’d lean back under the searing water to wet your hair.

Hands immediately wrapping around your waist, like an instinct. Flesh got to the touch not only from the water, but because he’s salivating and his body was aching to be near yours.

“So, so pretty.”

He’d always mumble, skin sticking to yours whilst he greeted you with several kisses to your neck.

“Help me wash my hair?”

He would almost admit that it was his favorite part but it wasn’t, his favorite part was just being in your presence.

To breathe in your oxygen.

“Smells like yummy.”

“Vanilla bean, J.”

He said that the last time, but he did it again just so he could see that same wholehearted grin on your face.

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bookuce · 7 months ago

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Change My Mind

SUMMARY: Josh and Alina are great friends most days. Other days, they want to tear each other apart. Some days, they’re in love with each other, but neither of them will admit it.

*DISCLAIMER: This is a multi-part series. I do not own any of the characters in the writing except for the OC. The book also uses the actual names of the wrestlers. Gionna is Liv Morgan, Austin, is Xavier Woods, Josh is Jey Uso, Jon is Jimmy Uso, Trinity is Naomi, Alina is just Alina. The book is not realistic and does not take place during real events, but some actual events could pop up in the story eventually. I DO NOT GIVE ANYONE PERMISSION TO REPOST OR TRANSLATE MY WRITINGS ANYWHERE.*

PAIRING: Jey Uso x Black OC

TROPE: Friends to Lovers

WARNINGS: Language

WORD COUNT: 1,827

PART TWO

PART THREE

“Say, I have a question for you,” Austin says, giving Alina a bright smile. She smiles back at him, a sign of friendliness.

“What’s up?” She asks.

“How does one manage to be as beautiful as you? I mean, you are stunning, whew!” He exclaims. Alina giggles softly at the compliment. She places her arm on the back of the couch, propping herself up on it.

“That’s really sweet to say, Austin, thank you.” She grins.

“No, thank you for blessing me with your presence. I can end the night now knowing I got to talk to you.” She rolls her eyes at his words. She wasn’t sure what he was trying to do and why he suddenly took interest in her, but who was she to be rude? They’ve talked a few times in passing, but it was never for long. “We should get you on UpUpDownDown.” He says. She immediately begins to shake her head.

“I don’t really play video games. I’ve never been good at them.” She answers honestly. To let her come on the show would be a waste of time. She also wasn’t comfortable embarrassing herself like that in front of several people. She has watched a few episodes and knew it was a fun show, but her participating? Not happening.

“I doubt you’re as bad as you say you are.” He assures her.

“I wouldn’t lie to you,” She promises. “I am terrible at games.”

Jon still had an amused grin on his face while he watched the two talk. This man is stupid, he thought. Either Austin was crazy, or he didn’t care. Shit, probably both. “That man is going to kill his ass,” Jon mutters to Trinity.

“That’s on him.” She says, not looking up from her phone. “He warned him.” Jon looks up, catching the moment Josh pauses in his tracks at seeing Austin and Alina talking.

The eldest twin taps his wife’s thigh. “Look, look, look…” He points in Josh’s direction. This was going to be good.

Josh was happily on his way with Alina’s drink until he saw Austin had done the opposite of what he told him. They were sitting close, too close for his liking, and they seemed deep in conversation. Alina would smile at him, and Austin would smile back.

Nothing he says could be worth smiling over like that, he thought. Josh glances down at the drinks in his hand. Just go over there and give her her drink. He’ll move. Don’t cause a scene. It’s nothing, he tells himself.

If jealousy could kill, Josh would be dead ten times over. He craved the attention that everyone else got from Alina. The way she smiles at them, the way she talks to them. He wanted her to do the same to him. Instead, she’s awkward and quiet at times. That was frustrating to him. She never really hints at what goes on in her head. It made him question whether or not he should even feel how he felt. Then he’d see her trying with guys and failing, and it would make him feel some way. He just wanted to make her happy.

Josh sniffles, quickly regaining composure. He resumes his stride over to the group. When he approaches, he holds Alina’s drink out between the chatting pair. He was purposely blocking Austin’s view of her face. Alina turns to look up at him. “Ay, I got your drink.” He says, his eyes fixated on the guy next to her. Alina slowly takes the drink from him.

“Thank you, Josh…” She says.

“No problem.” He says quickly, now slowly swaying from left to right, a sign of impatience.

Alina continued to stare at him, but he would never meet her gaze. No, he was watching Austin, who was smirking at him. “You gonna sit down, Uce?” Jon asks, leaning forward. The elder twin was ready to jump up to stop his brother from doing anything stupid.

“Nah, I’m good.” He says, not breaking his glare. “You good, Uce?” He asks Austin. That was him telling Austin to move. Here he goes, Alina thought. She finally looks away from him, her lips touching the brim of her cup. She slowly tilts the cup back, drinking the cup full with no breaks. It’s going to be a long night. Austin scoffs slightly, his smile still intact.

“You got it.” He says finally, putting his hands up in defeat. He moves back into his previous spot. Josh moves to sit down in his seat.

“Was that necessary?” Alina asks.

He reaches down, grabbing her legs and pulling them between his own. “Yep.” Alina probably shouldn’t have giggled, but the two mixed drinks she shotgunned and tequila shots were beginning to creep up on her. He shouldn’t grab her like that.

“And who are you supposed to be?” She asks. Josh doesn’t answer her. Instead, he takes a swig of the beer in his hand. She places two fingers on his left cheek, forcing him to look at her. She lifts her eyebrows, waiting for a response. One never came. “That’s what I thought.” She drops her hand from his face. They would exchange stares until Josh would glance down at her lips. Lina would suck in a deep breath before inevitably looking away. He shouldn’t look at her like that. “Well, I want another drink.” She mutters to herself. “Who wants drinks?” She asks.

“I do,” Austin chimes in.

Alina moves to stand but is pulled back down to Josh. She plops into his lap, a gasp leaving her lips as she does so. He really shouldn’t grab her like that. “Nah, get someone else to do it.” He says. Alina’s brows furrow at him before she reaches down to remove his hand from her thigh.

“Please, go to hell.” She says, prying his hand off of her.

“Or I can go with you to the bar. How about that?” When she stands, so does he. She doesn’t argue with him, but she does roll her eyes. Alina turned her attention to the group again, only to find them staring at the pair. They weren’t sure what they were seeing. Was it fighting, flirting, or some sick combination of both? “Drinks?” She asks, gesturing to everyone.

“Get me another beer, Uce,” Jon says.

“Vodka Cran for me.” Orders Trinity.

“Two more shots of tequila.” Gionna requests.

“I’ll have a beer too.” Austin adds.

Alina steps around the couch, marching over to the bar. Josh follows behind her, leaving the group once more. Everyone exchanged glances at each other after the exchange. “They get like this every time they drink together,” Jon says, shaking his head. “How long before they fight and get us kicked out?” He asks, looking at Trinity.

“Depends. How many fruity drinks have Alina had?” She asks. It was always the fruity drinks that got poor Alina.

“Just one so far.” Gionna answers.

“It’s that bad?” Austin asks.

“Yes, fool!” Jon exclaims. “That’s why I said leave her alone! Them folks are crazy!” Alina and Josh, with alcohol in their systems, are a match made in Hell. Josh had been drinking since before Alina got to the club. The beer in his hand was his seventh. He had about three more in him before he was at the point of no return. Alina was on her third mixed drink, two of which were fruity. The tequila shots would bring her up to five drinks in total. She swears she has a high tolerance for alcohol, much like Josh does, but doesn’t. Neither of them do.

Separately, they were fine, but together? It’s a whole other story.

Josh follows behind Alina, his pace slower than hers. To him, it seemed she was trying to put space between them. She would tell him he was correct if he had to assume out loud. She shouldn't be turned on by the way he was acting tonight, but here she was, practically foaming at the mouth. Alina makes it to the bar, eyes fixated on the alcohol on the wall before her. The bartender would immediately come to her, ready to take her order. “One tequila sunrise, three beers, and a Vodka Cran.” Alina orders. She turns to Josh, who’s watching her. “I’m forgetting something.”

“Gigi’s shots.” He answers.

“Oh, right! And two tequila shots!” She says, turning to the bartender. The bartender walks away, leaving the couple alone. Josh placed his beer on the bar top and leaned in towards Alina.

“You look good.” He tells her.

She glances at him out of the corner of her eye. “Okay.”

“Here you go.” He huffs, shaking his head at her.

“What do you want me to say? Thank you?”

“Uh, yes? That’s the normal thing to say to compliments, Alina.”

She wasn’t much of a compliments person. It makes her feel like someone wants something from her when she hears them. The people pleaser in her would forever deliver even when she didn’t want to. “Thank you, Joshua.” She says finally.

“You’re trying to be funny.”

“I said thank you!” She says, laughing. Josh places his hand on the barstool behind Alina, blocking her in. After a bit of silence, she turns to him. “You look good too.” She says, leaning into him. The bartender put out her tequila sunrise, and she immediately grabbed it.

Josh glances down at his appearance. “Do I?” She nods. “I put this on for you.” He jokes. Alina would take a sip of her drink, humming softly at it. “Is it good?” Josh asks, leaning into her again.

“Yeah, taste it.” She brings her glass to his lips, all while still holding his gaze. Her stare always made him weak in the knees. All she had to do was look at him, and Josh was under her command. He’d part his lips slightly, allowing the rim of the glass to touch his lips. She’d tilt it back, letting the orange liquid touch his tongue. The taste of Orange Juice came and went quickly. All that was left behind was the strong taste of tequila. Josh pulls his head back. “Yeah?” She asks, lowering her drink.

“Nah,” He says quickly, shaking his head. “That drink is strong as hell.” They both start to laugh. God, they were drunk. Alina leans into his arms, burying her face in his chest. His hand would move from the chair and touch her back. That touch was the catalyst for what was to come. His fingertips would trace her spine, sending shivers along her body. She’d arch towards him, lifting her head to look at him. They were very close, their noses almost touching.

“You shouldn’t touch me like that.” She whispers.

“My bad.” He whispers back. His hand would curl against the small of her back, now closing and opening in a scratching manner. She shakily breathes, her head tilting down to break his gaze. “Lina.” He calls to her.

Ah, fuck it, Alina thought as she pulled his face to hers in a bruising kiss.

NEXT PART

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: So y'all blew the first and second parts of this up...that's cool lol.

Thank you to everyone who is reading this so far! I really do appreciate all the kindness and support I am receiving! It means a lot to me!

Stay tuned for part four!

🏷️list: @paigereeder @wrestlingprincess80 @thesamoanqueen @whatdoeseverybodywant @alichesmi @reci1996 @cyberdejos2 @empressdede @trashbin-nie @meannaim @siriuslycee

#jey uso #jey uso fanfiction #jey uso x black oc #jey uso x oc #wwe fanfiction #wwe fic #main event jey uso

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colleendoran · 2 years ago

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Neil Gaiman's CHIVALRY: From Illuminated Manuscripts to Comics

One of the many reasons I wanted to adapt Neil Gaiman's Chivalry into graphic novel form was to create a comic as a bridge and commentary re: comics and illuminated manuscripts.

We're often told that the first comic book was Action Comics #1 featuring Superman, a collection of Superman comic strips that morphed into comic books as an art form.

Sequential art predates Action Comics #1.

Action Comics popularized sequential art book storytelling that had already appeared in other forms in fits and starts throughout history. Comic books didn't take off as a popular medium for several reasons, not least of which was the necessary printing process hadn't been invented yet and it's hard to popularize - and commercialize - something most people can never see.

You find sequential art in cave paintings and in Egyptian hieroglyphics. I've read that comics (manga) were invented by the Japanese in 12th century scrolls.

And sequential art appears over and over again in Western art going back well over 1000 years, and in book form at least 1100 years ago.

The most obvious example of early sequential art in Western art - as a complete narrative in sequence - is the Bayeux Tapestry.

At 230 feet long, this embroidered length of cloth was likely commissioned around the year 1070 by Bishop Odo, brother of William the Conqueror. It depicts the Battle of Hastings in 1066 and the invasion of England by the Normans. (The tapestry was made in England, not in France, but it is called the Bayeux tapestry because that's where it is now.)

Imagine what a task it was to embroider this thing. Whew. And you thought it was hard learning Photoshop.

This work of art is important in the history of sequential narrative, but the Norman invasion is also important to the legend of King Arthur - and another important English legend - for reasons we'll get into later.

It's complicated.

All this is why you see this art in the background of this page of Chivalry.

Using the Romanesque art style of the tapestry in panel 1, I've added the Latin phrase "Rex Quondom, Rexque Futurus" - "The Once and Future King", the final words of Sir Thomas Malory's Le Morte d'Arthur as inscribed on King Arthur's tomb, and the title of T.H. White's famous Arthurian novel. (EDIT) and it has been kindly pointed out to me that QUONDOM should be QUONDAM, which is hilarious and annoying and this is how history gets rewritten by accident.

My original intention was to draw this Bayeux Tapestry scene out and juxtapose it with shots of Galaad interacting with the children, but the two page sequence I imagined didn't really work as well in reality as it did in my head.

Foremost among my concerns was that the tapestry reference might be too obscure for most readers. I wanted to weave the visual meta-text of Chivalry into the story (For further reading on this project and my use of visual meta-text, symbolism, and history in Neil Gaiman's Chivalry, go HERE. And HERE. And HERE. And Yet again HERE.) in such a way as it would enhance the experience for people who "got" the visual meaning, while not dragging things down for people who didn't. So I cut this scene down to one panel.

The tapestry is a complete, long form comic strip created over 1100 years before some people claim comics were invented. So, I loved being able to reference it here.

But even more interesting to me are the sequential art sequences that appear in illuminated manuscripts - comics in book form.

I once got into a rather vicious argument with an academic who insisted illuminated manuscripts were comics. I said no. She said yes. Then she insulted the lowly comic artist and blocked me on Facebook.

Whatever.

My point was not that you can't find sequential art in illuminated manuscripts. My point is that an illustrated book isn't de facto a comic. Most illuminated manuscripts are illustrated books. Some illuminated manuscripts contain sequential art.

Just because opera is music, that doesn't mean all music is opera.

Just because comics books are books that doesn't mean all books are comic books.

And just because some illuminated manuscripts contain sequential art, that doesn't mean all illuminated manuscripts are sequential art.

But one is.

Let me show you it.

One of the earliest examples of an illuminated manuscript with comic art is The Bible d'Etienne Harding which you can see in this really bad jpg here, sorry, best I could find.

Created around the year 1109, property of a French Cistercian monk, it combines sequences like this with pages of text and illustration.

Not a comic book IMHO, but an illuminated manuscript with sequences of text, illustration and sequential narrative.

It's no more a "comic book" than a newspaper is for having text, illustration, and comic strips in it.

IMHO, academic lady.

And here's a look at the Old English Hexateuch (hexateuch refers to the first 6 books of the Bible) which I think is far more visually complex and interesting work, and comes much closer to the illuminated manuscript as comic, but still intersperses large sequences of text and illustration with sequential storytelling sequences. So I don't consider it a comic, but a book with sequential work in it.

Now this work below is a different matter. This is from the Holkham Bible Picture Book, circa about 1330.

This thing is genius. It measures a little larger than a modern comic, around 8"x11", and almost every page of it is like this spread here. 231 pages of beautifully rendered art, with repeated use of banderoles - "speech scrolls" (basically word balloons) - and captions, and (mostly) real sequential art. I've never seen anything else that comes even close to it, and by all accounts, neither has anyone else.

It may not be a modern comic book - but it's a comic book as far as I can tell. I don't think there's any other illuminated manuscript that is as complete, sophisticated, and innovative a sequential storytelling work.

If this were printed and seen by more people, the comic book medium would have taken off centuries earlier, IMHO. But it wasn't. It was tucked away in a monastery somewhere and few people ever saw it. It ended up being forgotten for centuries until it popped up again around 1816 when a banker sold it to an avid book collector, Thomas Coke, Earl of Leicester, who inherited Holkham Hall and its library and set about restoring and expanding it.

The banker wrote, “a very curious MS. just brought here from the Continent. . . which I think one of the greatest curiosities I ever saw”.

Sequential art got invented over and over and over by one artist after another until one day centuries later, some teenaged boys found their newspaper strips gathered together in a cheap format, and suddenly comic books were popular and like new.

And then a lot of people who didn't seem to realize that books had had pictures in them for centuries got all up in arms about the harms of books with pictures in them.

I think it's funny that it is called the Holkham Bible Picture Book. There really was no "comic" art language when this work was created or when academics began to catalogue this sort of thing. Will they change the name now?

Who can say.

Anyway, another Holkham Bible Picture Book reference for you.

Look familiar?

I referenced it in this scene in Chivalry.

One of the fun things about the Holkham is that it opens with a discussion between a friar who has commissioned the work and the artist. The friar admonishes the artist to do a good job on the project because it will be shown to important people. And the artist responds, "Indeed, I certainly will and, if God lets me live, never will you see another such book."

He wasn't kidding.

You can see the entire manuscript HERE.

Sponsored by my Patreon. Thank you.

#chivalry #neilgaiman #neil gaiman #darkhorsecomics #dark horse comics #illuminated manuscript #medieval art #medieval manuscripts #watercolor #watercolor art #king arthur #arthuriana #arthurian legend #sir galahad

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lovelygirlwithablog · 29 days ago

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୨ ⎯ headcanons . nicolas alexander chavez x f!reader

━ slow and teasing

He's the KING of teasing you with kisses. He'd start off slow, his lips barely brushing yours, just to make you lose it. You'd lean in for more, but he'd pull back slightly with that cocky little smirk, whispering, "Patience, baby. I'll give you what you want... eventually."

━ messing with u

When he's in the mood to mess with you, he'd kiss you once, softly, then trail his lips down your jawline and stop just short of where you really want him to go. And when you let out that frustrated sigh, he'd chuckle and be like, "Oh, I love how needy you get for me." 😵‍💫

━ spicy and possessive pet names

"Mine" - Oh, girl. This one would come out when he's feeling possessive. Like, if someone else flirts with you, he'd pull you close and whisper in your ear, "Don't forget, baby-you're mine." Chills.

"Darling" - He'd say this in that slow, deep tone when he's in full heartthrob mode. Like, "What do you need, darling? Tell me, and it's yours." Literal heart palpitations.

━ flirty pet names

"Baby" - Classic but effective. He'd say it in that low, teasing tone, especially when he's being playful or spicy. Like, "C'mon, baby, you know you want me to kiss you." Instant chills.

"Love" - When he's feeling all intense and romantic, this is his go-to. He'd probably whisper it against your lips mid-kiss, like, "You drive me crazy, love." Ugh, please.

"Beautiful" - He'd drop this one out of nowhere just to watch you blush. Like, you'd be getting ready or just sitting there, and he'd be like, "How did I get so lucky with someone so beautiful?" Byeee, my heart.

"Angel" - He'd use this one when he's feeling protective or extra soft. Like, if you're upset, he'd wrap you in his arms and whisper, "Don't worry, angel, I've got you." Melting!!

━ flirty energy on set

Nicholas would absolutely love teasing you if you visited him while he was working. He'd be all professional one minute, delivering his lines perfectly, and the next, he'd be flashing you that sly smile in between takes, knowing it's driving you crazy.

━ you're his safe haven

After a long day of filming, the first thing he'd do is find you. He'd wrap his arms around you in the coziest hug, burying his face in your neck while mumbling, "You're the best part of my day." He'd totally sneak little forehead kisses when he thought no one was looking, just to recharge and feel close to you.

━ validation

After a big scene, he’d run over and ask, “How did I do?" And when you tell him how amazing he was, he’d get all blushy and say, “That’s all I needed to hear.”

━ spicyyy

If the two of you were alone in his trailer? Whew. Nicholas would lean against the door with that cocky smirk, pulling you closer by your waist like, "We've got a few minutes before they need me... want to make it worth it?"

━ he'd hate seeing you upset

The second he realizes you're mad, he'd get all serious and be like, "Wait, are you actually mad at me? Baby, talk to me." And you'd be trying to ignore him, but he'd literally NOT stop following you around until you told him what's wrong. He'd have this sad puppy-dog face the whole time, which makes it SO hard to stay mad. Like, Nicholas, let me be angry for a second!!!

━ he'd blame himself

Nicholas would probably start feeling like he's the one ruining things. He'd get all quiet for a second and then look at you with teary eyes, saying, "Is this my fault? Am I not enough for you?" Hearing him say that would absolutely wreck you because you'd know he's always trying SO hard to make you happy.

━ cuddles

If you were busy or taking too long to cuddle him, he’d literally flop down on the couch like a toddler and be like, “Why don’t you love me anymore?” in the most over-the-top voice ever.

━ attention

If you even looked at your phone or got distracted, he’d nudge you with his nose and say, “Hello? What’s more important than me right now?” He’d fake being all hurt and be like, “Guess I’m just not your favorite person anymore.” But the second you kissed him or ran your fingers through his hair, he’d get all soft and mumble, “That’s better. You’re my favorite person, too.”

━ back hugs

Imagine you're busy doing something, like washing dishes or typing on your laptop, and out of nowhere, Nicholas wraps his arms around you from behind. He'd rest his chin on your shoulder, pressing a soft kiss on your neck.

a/n: guys thank you so so so much for the notes on my last post! here are some new headcanons 'cuz this man is killing me 😫 let me know in the inbox if you want headcanons for other actors/characters!!

#nicholas chavez #nicholas alexander chavez #nicolas alexander chavez #nicolas chavez #headcanon #x reader #fluff #feeling spicy #use me pls #lovers #fanfic #netflix monsters #actor #i love him #like pls

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so-long-soldier-writes · 7 months ago

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The Light in My Darkness

damon salvatore x gn!reader | requested

summary: after your boyfriend's death, you fell back into old habits. now that he's back, you're having trouble kicking them again.

tags: angst, hurt / comfort, depression, s3lf h4rm, kisses

word count: 1.7k

a/n: i typically don't write for damon, however i feel comfortable writing this subject matter and i'm getting better with understanding his character. honestly, too, i rewatched s7 and i'm starting to love him even more. (i just love the traumatized characters.)

also, i'm not good at titles. my first title had the word 'put' in it, but i stared at it so long, it didn't look like a word anymore and i had to change it. i think i like this one better. i stg, titles are half the reason i take so long to post. whew, anyway... enjoy ❤️

“Stefan needs help at Whitmore,” Damon says hurriedly. He puts his phone in his back pocket and sighs. “Another Enzo situation.”

“Do you want me to come?”

“No, you stay here. I don’t want him anywhere near you, given he’s in one of his moods and would hurt you for no reason.” He gives you a quick kiss. “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.”

He speeds out the door a moment later, leaving you alone in the large, empty house. You sigh. Your life is so full of supernatural drama, it’s hard to keep up. Honestly, you’re not even sure what the situation is with Enzo, or why he and Stefan hate each other so much, or how Damon knows what to do to de-escalate their arguments. Of course, Caroline debriefed you on it sometime ago, but with all the craziness happening lately, it pretty much went over your head.

It’s been hard these last few months. Only recently had Damon returned to you from four months after being considered dead, alongside Bonnie, as the other side collapsed with him in it. Those months had been the hardest of your life, and you doubted your ability to make it through them. Losing your best friend and your boyfriend was something you never thought you’d have to endure, yet it happened. Losing them almost killed you, too.

For three years, you were clean. You hadn’t touched a single blade since you and Damon got serious. He gave you a reason to stop without even knowing it, and with a lot of patience with yourself, you managed to kick the addiction. After he died, though, when you couldn’t bear to live without him, you picked it back up. Part of you is pissed for falling back into your old ways, but the other part has convinced yourself it’s what you need to do to survive.

When he came back unexpectedly, you were filled with just as much panic as you were joy. You had him back, but had relapsed majorly, and now have to recount your old steps into being sober again. It hasn’t been easy.

It’s been a couple days since your last time, and while your skin’s no longer bright and swollen, it seems to beg for your attention. You have to plan it carefully, making sure Damon will be gone long enough that he won’t sense the fresh blood. When he grabs your wrists to kiss your face, you don’t want to flinch in slight pain, or let him pick up a chance in your heartbeat.

It’s such a complicated addiction to have when dating a vampire, yet fighting the urges are so hard, sometimes you can’t help but give into them.

The blades in the bathroom are ready for you when you enter. A brand new pack sits in the drawer. The boys won’t miss one or two. The one time Stefan did notice, you blabbered a quick lie about needing one to scrape a bit of food dried to the stovetop. He was in such a rush that day, he didn’t catch any lie, and you were able to smile and flee the scene a moment later. Since then, you make sure to hold onto the one you have until there’s enough to not see one missing.

With everyone seemingly involved in the Enzo situation, you don’t bother to shut the door completely before dragging the blade across your skin. The boarding house is empty, and this bathroom in particular is tucked away nicely behind the stairs. You make a few scattered cuts and watch the blood seep from them. It always seems to calm you in the most grotesque way, and, quite ironically, gives you the perfect dopamine rush that raises your spirits despite the pain. It’s a terrible addiction but with a high reward… until you have to hide the evidence.

That little reminder makes you sigh. Too many scars are hard to hide, and with Damon back, you have to be careful. It would break him to see you this way; that thought alone makes you put down the blade. For a moment longer, you stare at the tricking blood, committing the sight to memory to maybe fend off the next urge. To imagine the blood on your skin may convince yourself it’s there, and maybe you won’t cut the next time you’re so desperate. Maybe.

You reach for a piece of toilet paper to dab the wounds. The bleeding needs to stop before you crave another scare. It’s so tempting, but-

“Hey,” Damon appears suddenly, peeking through the door. His eyes are narrowed, as if sensing something’s wrong. “What are you doing?”

You turn to face him and hold your hands around your back quickly. “Nothing.”

“Are you sure?” He opens the door a little wider, seeing the reflection of your hidden hands in the mirror. “Let me see your arms.”

“I’m okay.” Nervously, you pull down your sleeves to hide your wounds as much as possible. Your eyes meet the floor, unable to lie if you look into his blues.

“No, you’re not.” He argues, anxious to see your face; to not let you shy away and avoid his gaze. His approach makes your heart race, confirming his worst fears. “Let me see.”

“I thought you were leaving. I thought Stefan needed you.”

“He does, but he can wait.”

“But-”

“You’re my first priority. I can tell something’s up. Please,” he brushes a hair away from your face, “let me in.”

“Damon, I’m fine.”

“You’re hurting, and I can smell the blood, and I’m really trying hard not to freak out right now.”

You huff at the realization that he could smell it. You should’ve waited for him to be gone longer before breaking your skin. “Promise me you won’t be mad.”

“Why would I be mad?”

“Just promise me.” Tears well in your eyes, but you let them fall, unwilling to take your hands off your sleeves.

“Y/N, I promise. I could never be mad. Just let me see it.”

Slowly, you release your sleeves, but leave the task of rolling them up to him. You can’t bear to do it yourself. Damon takes one hand gently and pulls the sleeve back. Upon seeing the numerous cuts, he pulls the other back with a little more vigor, but is still careful not to hurt you. He stares, unable to speak or move, as his heart breaks with every passing second.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper. His eyes meet yours and you finally break down into tears.

Without a moment of hesitation, he pulls you into a hug, wrapping his arms protectively around your body. You feel safe in his arms, you always do. Damon has a way about him that always makes you feel safe, no matter what anyone else thinks of him. He’s loyal and understanding, and that is part of the reason you feel so horrible for not telling him this.

“I’m sorry,” you repeat, now sobbing into his chest.

Your heart beats and reminds him that you are alive. The cuts made into your skin weren’t deep enough to take you. The pain you have been feeling hasn’t swallowed you whole. He concentrates on your breathing, and your crying, and uses it to anchor himself before asking the thousands of questions flooding his mind.

He pulls away, finally, and wipes your tears with his thumbs. His hands grip your shoulders with a gentle desperation, as if he’s afraid you could dissipate at any moment.

“Y/N…”

“I didn’t mean for you to find out this way.”

“Did you mean for me to find out at all?”

Your heart feels heavy as you reply, “honestly, no.”

“Why not tell me, Y/N? You know I love you. If you’re hurting, I want to be there for you.”

“I know… I guess I just didn’t want to disappoint you? Some part of me was embarrassed about it, and I didn’t want you to see me differently because of it. I don’t know.”

“Baby, there’s nothing you could do that’d ever make me love you less. Nothing that would ever make me feel a different way, or see you in another light.”

“I know. I know my feelings are totally irrational, I just… they’re fears.”

“I understand.” He kisses your forehead, then releases your shoulders to hold your hands and kiss them, too. “Hey, can you promise me something?”

“I can try.”

“Come to me the next time you’re feeling like you want to hurt yourself, okay? Let me help you through it.”

“But-”

“It doesn’t matter what’s going on, or who’s texting, I will drop anything and put you first. But you gotta let me in when you need it. Okay?”

“Okay.” You take a deep breath. “Thank you.”

“Of course. Now,” he pauses, biting into his arm and holding it out for you to drink. His other hand meets the back of your head, stabilizing your neck to keep you comfortable.

To his dismay, you refuse. You try to pull away, but his other hand prevents that, so you look down instead. “I can’t.”

“Y/N…”

“The scars are a reminder that I bleed. As soon as they fade away, the urge returns, but if they’re there for a little while, the urge is less strong. They’re kind of a comfort, I think. A reminder.”

“So you don’t want me to heal them?”

“I’d rather not. They don’t bother me too much. Do they bother you?”

You can see the hesitation in his eyes. He fights with himself, knowing the sight is a reminder of your pain, but understands their existence helps you heal. After a moment, he shakes his head. “No, baby, I only care that you’re safe.” He kisses them one more time. “Have you eaten much today?”

“Not really.”

“Well… do you mind if I make you something, even if it’s just something small, and then we can sit together on the couch? We’ll take today slow.”

“Okay. Wait, but what about Stefan?”

“Caroline can handle it. Then he’ll be in her debt and she’ll be happy about it,” he jokes.

You smile, appreciating his humor despite the somber mood hanging above both your heads. He’s the light in dark times, the much needed laugh that breaks the awkward silence. It’s part of the reason you fell for him so quickly.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“Okay. And thank you.”

He pulls you in to kiss your forehead, then reaches for your hand. “Of course.”

#damon salvatore x reader #damon salvatore x gn!reader #tvd fanfiction #tw: s3lf h4rm #tw: sh #damon salvatore fluff #hurt/comfort

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megamindsecretlair · 3 months ago

Note

Hi, beloved! ❤️ Would you be down to write about Terry Richmond using some rope tricks that he learned from his Marine training on reader? 🤭 If not, I completely understand and you’re still amazing !😘

A/N: Forgive me, I know this doesn't technically fit the bill, but this got my mind spinning. Let me know if you want a more faithful response.

Touch Me Like You Care

Pairing: Daddy Dom!Terry Richmond x Sub!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (female), fingering (fem receiving), teasing, size kink, dirty talk, mean Terry, daddy kink, praise kink, spanking, lite bondage, overstimulation, reader is able to be picked up, all consensual. Sorry if I missed some, rushing.

Summary: See Ask. Story by @uniqueoutlierblog . Terry comes home to find you reading in bed, all thoughts of getting dressed out of your mind as you rest. He was prepared to let you, truly, but then he finds that you’re not wearing the bracelets he bought you. And well, he can’t let that slide, can he?

Word Count: 4,475k

AO3 Link

A/N: @planetblaque knows I can deny her nothing!! Whew, everytime I think I can take a break from this man, ya'll pop out with all of these amazing fics! I'm so over the moon to see so much activity. We fr just tossing this man around like a beach ball and I love that for us!!! Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

You pulled your dresser open and searched for your favorite pair of thigh high socks. Ever since the weather turned, you were back to shivering every two seconds, feeling colder than a witch’s broomstick no matter what you did.

After a refreshing shower, you opted to dry under your blanket hoodie, feeling the need to retreat from having to be “on” all the time. Navigating the world as a Black woman was fucking exhausting.

You picked up your phone, scrolling through your latest dirty book. There was a subtle increase in Black led romances that were making you stay up to the wee hours of the morning reading. The latest book was absolutely filthy from your favorite author. The anticipation for this book had been immense, the group chat blowing up with speculations and guesses.

The book was getting better, when the couple who swore they hated each other was about to fuck that tension out since fighting got them nowhere. You squealed, picking up the nearest pair of socks. You tore your gaze away long enough to put your socks on.

You looked around the room for your blanket hoodie. It was sitting on the famous chair, piled on top of a mountain of clothing that was near toppling over. You grabbed the hoodie and then checked in on your phone.

Oh, the tension. The passion. It just ate you up inside when the characters got to that part. Confessing their love in drunken confessions or in the middle of an argument. Ouee, your body was on fire just thinking about it. Your pussy clenching at the details. The rich words creating a movie in your mind’s eye.

Abandoning your hoodie, you laid across the bed and decided to air dry. With the way this book was going, you might need a second shower. You rested your head on your closed fist and let your mind drift, picturing the scene.

You didn’t hear when your boyfriend called your name after he arrived home. Or how his heavy footfalls padded down the hallway to your bedroom. Or how he called your name again when he stood in the doorway. You didn’t hear the subtle camera click as a picture was taken.

Somewhere between the fifth and…counting?... sex scene, you ended up on your tummy, legs high behind you, tapping your socked feet together. You were literally kicking your feet as the characters kept telling each other that they hated each other as they were clutching onto each other for dear life.

You sighed. You simply ate this shit up. You were already mentally typing up your notes for your review on Goodreads. Ouee, maybe you should start keeping a side notebook. Just to jot down bullet points so your scatterbrained mind didn’t forget a single detail.

Fingers reached across your ass and you yelped, looking behind you ready to scream. Terry stood behind you, his head tilted and a smirk on his luscious face. You choked out a laugh, rolling to one side so you could look at him better.

He looked damn good in gray sweatpants and a white T-shirt. Terry slid his fingers absently across your bare ass, tracing the globes up and down. Your body shivered, pussy clenching with need. You gazed at your man. At the smooth planes and lines of his face, the cut of jaw, those big pink lips.

“You didn’t hear me calling you?” He asked.

You shook your head. “Sorry,” you said, giving him a cutesy grin.

His lips twitched but he didn’t let himself smile. “You’re not cute. You have to be more aware of your surroundings,” he said.

“Yes, sir,” you said, nodding. “Though to be fair, the only man getting in here is you.”

“Mhm,” he said, nodding his own head. “You reading your dirty books?”

“Yes! You remember my favorite author?” You asked.

Terry nodded, hiking his eyebrow up as he encouraged you to tell him all about your favorite author. And the book you were currently reading. “And I just got to the good part,” you said.

Terry chuckled and nodded. “Okay, I’ll leave you to it,” he said. He trailed his fingers between your legs as he moved away and you gasped. For two reasons. On the one hand, Terry’s hands on you always instantly put you in the mood. With your pussy already wet, you were thinking it was a good time for a break.

On the other hand, you forgot that you had taken off your gifts from him while you showered. It was the only time you were allowed to do so. You meant to put the ankle and thigh bracelet back on when you lotioned up but plum forgot.

Terry stopped and you could feel his stare. It burned in the back of your head. Your heart thumped in your chest. You had no idea what he was going to do.

“Baby,” Terry’s deep timbre was a physical caress down your spine. You stretched your back and bit your lip.

“Yes, Big Daddy,” you said, pitching your voice higher.

“Where are your bracelets?” He rubbed his thumb across your thick thigh. The weight of those words pressed down on you, making you want to retreat in your mind. You began to pant, feeling out of sorts. You were so turned on you could barely breathe. But you were also worried about what kind of punishment you were about to receive.

“I just showered,” you said. You rolled so that you could look at his pretty face. To at least try to gauge where his mind went. Terry stopped you by wrapping his hand around your thigh.

“I believe you. But you’re out of the shower now,” he said.

“I really forgot this time,” you said.

Terry sighed, the sound like a coin drop in an empty room. “You know what we have to do now, right?” He asked.

“You sure I can’t bargain out of this one? I can be pretty cute, you said so,” you said.

“Up,” he said, his calm voice making matters worse. You may as well have been pleading your case to a brick wall. There was no changing his mind.

You got to your knees and then flipped over, scooting to the edge of the bed. Terry rolled his shoulders as he moved to your closet. He pulled a pine green box down from the top shelf.

He placed the large, repurposed gift box on your dresser and opened it. Cheery snowmen looked at you from the painted edges as Terry rummaged around. He drew out a pair of leather cuffs and crossed over to you.

You pouted at him as he strapped the cuffs to your wrists. There was a small golden link between them keeping it connected and not giving you much room to escape. You tested the pull on it as you tried to separate your wrists. No dice.

Terry grabbed the link and pulled you into a standing position. He sighed deeply, his voice a rumbling thunder behind it with a hum as he stared you down. “I had plans to treat you so well when I got back,” he said.

“Fuck,” you said, the curse flying fast. You rubbed your thighs together, staring up into his pretty colorful eyes. Every time you looked at them, they were a different color. You loved to see the changes, especially this up close. His eyes went more brown when he was like this, when he’d sunk into that role of being in charge. Of being protective.

He kissed your cheek, softly, reverently, his juicy lips leaving a small wet spot behind. He moved down to your lips, not quite kissing you. He hummed and smirked. “Whatever happens, just know that I love you, okay?”

“Terry,” you huffed. His name was a plea and a curse all in one. You didn’t know what was worse. Knowing the torture was coming or having to live through it. Your thighs were on fire, burning with the need to have him between them.

He pulled you closer by the cuffs, kissing you completely this time. He brought his free hand up to cup your cheek, hands warm. You licked his lips and he moaned. “Nice try,” he said against your lips.

He said that, but you stepped closer, rubbing yourself against his growing bulge. He chuckled, letting you, looking down while you rubbed on him. He grinned and then grabbed your shoulders, turning you around. He pushed you down. You let out a soft oomph, flopping onto the bed.

He grabbed your hips, pushing you further up your big ass bed. He positioned you how he wanted, close to the edge, but not so close that he didn’t have free range behind you. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up as you could only hear him moving around behind you.

It sounded like he was rummaging through the goody box again. You sighed. Digging your toes into the bed. “Start reading,” he commanded, voice sharp.

How the hell were you supposed to read anything? You hesitated, looking at your phone. There was no way you’d be able to concentrate and he knew that.

“Baby,” you said and licked your lips.

Terry said nothing and again, you felt his gaze bearing down on you. You whimpered as you grabbed your phone, unlocking it, and swiping back to your phone. You began reading aloud, reading about the sex scene you were in the middle of.

Reading it aloud to Terry, picturing him as the main male character, you were miserably wet. Dripping practically. You sighed, thinking of your ruined bed. You’d have to spend tonight doing laundry.

Terry’s massive hand slapped across your ass, the recoil loud enough to rival a gunshot. You squealed, falling forward onto the bed. Heat bloomed between your thighs, warming up your core to a dangerous level.

It still really fucking hurt though. Your ass stung and you swore that you could feel aftershocks of his hand, slapping across your ass over and over. “Fuck, fuck!” You yelled out.

“Keep reading,” he said.

You got back to your knees and arched your back like he positioned you in before. You returned to reading out loud, pussy throbbing at the way the words made you feel. You got to an explicit part when Terry’s hands came back down. He smacked your ass a handful more times, covering a wide area and making your ass light up like a Christmas tree.

Tears welled in your eyes from the pain and the pleasure. It was too much stimulation. “Please, please, fuck me. I can’t take it,” you whimpered. The words on your phone swam in your vision as your body contracted with shivers. Both from the radiating waves of heat and the burn low in your belly.

Terry rubbed his hands across your ass and you screamed, kneeling away from his hands. Wherever he touched, your ass sang with pain. “Are you going to remember to put your bracelets on?”

You nodded. “Yes, I swear,” you said.

Terry shoved his fingers between your legs, plunging right up your pussy. You collapsed onto the bed, twitching. “Mhm, I didn’t give you permission to cum,” he said.

“Daddy, pleaseeee,” you pleaded, lower belly twinging with the pain of fighting off your orgasm.

“You can get wetter than this, baby,” he said.

“I can’t,” you said, drool seeping into the navy covers beneath you. Your face was smashed into the bed, no way to hold yourself up while his fingers stroked your walls. The loud squelching of your pussy, wet because of him, made you clench around his fingers and moan.

He placed his free hand on your ass, giving you the dual sensation of sweet torture and cruel relief. He moved his fingers faster, stretching you out with his long, thick fingers. You rode yourself on his fingers, throwing it back and he moaned. He smacked your ass more lightly this time, more in encouragement than anything else.

“Please let me cum. Please let me cum,” you said, legs twitching. You couldn’t hold off any longer.

Terry leaned down over your body, placing his lips as close to your ear as he could get it. “Nahhh,” he said slowly, a subtle rasp in his voice. You bit your lip and rode him harder, showing him that you needed more. “Gotta earn that shit.”

You sobbed into your bed, tears streaming freely. You were about to explode. Come undone at the seams. “Daddy, please. Pleaaseee. Pleaaasseeee, ouee, pleeasseee,” you moaned, desperately riding his fingers.

“You know what Daddy needs,” he said.

Tears leaked freely, mixing with the drool and pooling onto the covers. Your mind turned to mush, no longer able to keep reading. Your moans were loud and near screaming. Your throat raw with the effort. Your essence flooded his fingers and he hummed in satisfaction.

“There’s my good girl,” he purred. He suddenly flipped you over, not giving you a chance to work with him. He was too impatient, too needy, too rough as he positioned you on your back. He pushed your arms above your head, giving you a look. You planted your hands above your head and knew better to move them.

It pushed your breasts up, giving him a total view of your chest. He groaned, eyes tracking to your pert nipples. Terry folded you in half, scooting his thighs beneath your back, holding you spread open for him.

He placed soft kisses to your wet pussy, lips smacking from your juices. “Baby, I can’t hold it no more,” you said.

“You’re gonna hold it because Daddy told you to,” he said, his voice brooking no argument. You whimpered, whined, trying to breathe through being folded like a pretzel.

Your toes brushed against the bed with every rocking motion from Terry as he got himself comfortable. He continued kissing your pussy, stopping to look back and stare at your pussy. His lips began to glisten with your essence.

You groaned, a primal, possessive side of you jumping out. You marked your claim. It was your juices on him. Your essence feeding him.

“Daddy, please,” you cried out. From this position, you saw his face perfectly. He stared at your pussy like a man possessed. Like a greedy man with the richest treasure in the world. Your heart softened just as your pussy throbbed.

Terry smirked. “Pretty fuckin’ pussy. She miss me?” He asked. As if you hadn’t gone two and half rounds when you woke up this morning. As if he wasn’t driving you insane nearly every time you got within two feet of each other.

“Yes, Daddy, she missed you,” you moaned.

“Yeah? She gon’ be good and cum when I say?” He asked. He stared at you from beneath his long eyelashes framing his stormy blue eyes while his tongue rolled out of his mouth. He used the tip of his tongue to search through your soaked curls, separate your pussy lips, and flick across that little bundle of nerves.

“Ouee, shit,” you moaned. Sweat beaded on your forehead. Your heart beat so loudly, it was a miracle he couldn’t hear it. You huffed, watching his tongue work around your clit. Feeling it was even better. His breath was hot across your pussy, making your breaths stutter in your chest.

His lips followed his tongue, going deeper, playing with the rim of your entrance before dipping his tongue inside you. You cried out, belly fluttering. You moved your hands and Terry’s eyes narrowed.

Fresh tears leaked from your eyes, dripping down the side of your face. “Pleasseee,” you begged.

“You’re doing so well, already,” he moaned. He sped up, licking you, eating you, devouring you as he lapped at your pussy. Fresh essence dripped out of you and he licked that up too. He moaned, burying his nose and face into your pussy. He ate like a man starved. Sloppily. Messily.

“Oue, fuck, ouee,” you screamed.

Terry moved closer, like he was trying to shove his whole face inside of you. His plush lips wrapped around your clit and sucked.

“Oh fuck! Terry! Terry!” You screamed. Your body began twitching. The orgasm you staved off was coming whether you wanted it to or not. Terry stopped altogether, suspending your body in the midpoint between denial and reprieve.

Your eyes rolled lazily to him, panting, huffing, body feeling like you had been tossed into a barbeque pit. “T-T-”

Terry tilted his head, tongue flat against your clit. You throbbed and pulsed on his tongue but he didn’t move. Your body retreated from the edge in slow increments, relaxing against him.

You blinked at him, no longer able to communicate a single thought. Terry’s eyes gleamed with sick pleasure. He hummed, moving his tongue against your clit once more. He brought you to the edge and then denied you the rush of pleasure at the last minute. He did it one more time, letting you relax and then bringing you back to the precipice.

Your belly cramped so bad. Your mouth stopped working. You couldn’t do anything but pathetically moan as he ate his fill. Your toes brushed against the bed again as he leaned back far enough.

“She too tired now?” He asked.

You shook your head. Furthest thing from it. Terry smirked. “You nice and dumb for me, baby?” He asked. He gave you teasing little licks. You hissed and moaned, eyes aching from how hard you closed them from the torture.

“Answer me when I’m talking to you,” Terry said, smacking your ass for good measure. It woke you from the fog long enough to nod.

“Yes, Big Daddy,” you said.

Terry grinned and then relented, giving in and eating you with a renewed fervor. “You can cum now, baby,” he moaned into your pussy. His tongue and lips teased your clit. His fingers dipped back inside your entrance, coaxing that sweet, sweet orgasm out of you.

You screamed loud enough to wake the dead. Or hell, maybe you joined them. Lights burst behind your eyelids as you came with so much force, you couldn’t breathe. Your pussy ached and throbbed, thighs shaking against Terry’s face as he teased you throughout the whole ride.

He slowed down as he sensed that you were coming down, drawing out his teasing licks and kisses to your pussy. He pulled back and your essence dripped from his face. He looked like he went swimming in your pussy. His entire jaw was covered, shiny and wet. You wish you could take a picture of him like this.

A long spit chain connected you to him and he moaned, ending on a hiss. “That’s a good fuckin’ pussy,” he huffed as he regained his own breathing. “Turn that ass over.”

Terry lowered you to the bed while he hopped off. He made quick work of his clothes, his huffs and puffs the only indication of how badly he was rushing. You were just a noodle, watching him reveal inches of his bronze skin, the veins in his biceps, the tattoos on his arms.

You traced the tattoos more times than you could count, lips twitching with the urge to do so now. His thighs were equally delicious. As big as tree trunks, a light dusting of hair. And that ass. He turned to the side briefly so he could free his long legs from his underwear and sweats.

“You are so damn pretty,” you mumbled.

Terry chuckled. You didn’t think he heard you. “That’s my line,” he said. “And I’m pretty sure I told you what you need to be doing.”

You couldn’t flip over fast enough, giggling. He’d just bent you over and ate you so well, your leg was still wobbly and shaky. Yet you yearned for more. Yearned for his body surrounding you, protecting you, caging you in his embrace. You were greedy. Needing, wanting, craving more.

Terry descended onto the bed, roughly grabbing your hips and sliding inside with a savage thrust.

“Oueeee, SHIT, Daddy!” You screamed. He slid out and then slid back in, coating his long dick with your essence.

“Cream this shit,” he moaned, sliding inside faster. His massive hands gripped your hips and pulled you onto his punishing dick, ramming into you. “Made for me. You were made for me, weren’t you?” He asked.

“Yes, Daddy, I was made for you,” you moaned. He stretched you beautifully, slamming into you just as rough as you wanted. As you needed.

“Just a pretty, tight hole for me to abuse whenever I want?” He asked.

You sobbed, tears gathering in your eyes once more. He hit that magical spot inside of you, the spot only he could reach. No other man, not even your toys, could hit that spot with such precision. With accuracy. He was just as much made for you.

“Yes, Daddy,” you moaned, voice muffled by the covers. The bed dipped as Terry leaned over, planting a fist beside your head to hold up his weight. He used his other hand to grab a handful of braids and yank, baring your throat to him.

“I wish you could see how creamy you are. Pretty little ring on my dick. So nice and wet,” he cooed into your ear. He pulled your head back so that he could kiss you. His face smelled like you. You moaned and clenched around his dick. He hissed and then growled in your ear.

“Filling me so deep, Daddy,” you moaned. “So fuckin’ deep, ohmygoood.”

Terry chuckled. He shifted his hips and drove in deeper, possibly down to his base, as he fucked you into the mattress. Your hands stretched out in front of you, gripping onto the covers just trying to meet his thrusts.

“Untie me, Daddy. Let me feel you,” you begged.

Terry responded by kissing you, tongue licking your lips. You opened your mouth and played with his tongue. His beautiful, amazing tongue that was capable of the sweetest words and the filthiest things.

“You don’t know how to behave when you’re free,” he said against your cheek.

“I’ll behave, I promise,” you whispered.

Terry moaned, dick throbbing inside you. “I want to believe you,” he said.

He kept up his brutal, savage thrusts, digging into you and making your belly clench. “Pleasse, Daddy. I want to feel you,” you moaned.

“All you need to do is feel this dick, baby. Feel how much you mean to me. How much I want to take care of you,” he said.

Each thrust felt like it was going straight to your heart. There was no way you were still flooding his dick. Still making it easier for him to glide and thrust and stroke so far inside you, you couldn’t tell where you ended and he began.

“Fuck me so good. So well,” you moaned.

Terry gripped your hips and then pulled you down harder, faster, rougher. You yelped and squealed, stretched out on the bed, trying to escape. Terry yanked you back, fingers digging into your skin harder.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” you moaned. Your thighs trembled from trying to hold yourself up from his hold. He kept you in place, filling you, fucking you good and deep. Your eyes rolled back into your head. But still, your body propelled you forward. Both because of his thrusts and because you just couldn’t take any more. All the edging from earlier had you spent.

“Sit that ass up,” he panted, breaths falling across your damp back.

“C-Can’t,” you stuttered.

Terry grunted and pulled you by the hair until you were on your knees. He sat on his haunches, continuing to pound inside you.

“You keep telling me what you can’t do. But all this time you been takin’ this dick and doing what Daddy tell you to. Do you know how proud I am of you? So pretty when you listen,” he moaned.

“Fuck, Daddy, please,” you moaned.

Terry grabbed your arms and pulled it until the cuffs went over his head. It made you thrust out your chest and he grabbed your titties, playing with your sensitive nipples. He pinched and plucked as he fucked you, kissing your neck and biting your shoulder.

Your pussy made smacking noises on his dick, sounding thick and creamy. You moans mingled in the room, mixing with the pound of the headboard against the wall. You were constantly getting little dents in it from the force of your lovemaking. It was too much. You tried to sit on his lap but he grunted. “Mhm,” he said, pulling you into a kneeling position one more time.

“If I gotta stand you up one more time, you ain’t gon’ like it,” he snapped.

You whimpered and whined but concentrated on holding yourself up. His dick slammed into your walls while he kissed your neck. One hand gripped your titty and squeezed while his other hand searched lower, rubbing two fingers against your pussy.

You screamed out, unable to hold off this one. It gobbled you up with the force of it. Tearing you down to your roots, breaking you down to your center, to the very last atom that makes you you. You cried out, shaking, twitching.

Your vision turned black and your right ear rung with a tinny bell as you came and came in rolling waves. One triggered another for an extended orgasm, body jerking uncontrollably.

“Cum so pretty,” he said. “You ready for this nut?”

You could only manage a nod as he rolled his shoulders and moaned in your ear while he came, unloading a thick load of cum inside of you.

There was no more air in your lungs enough to moan. You could only sigh as he warmed you up from the inside, soaking your walls with his cum. Nothing leaked out as he continued to stroke into you.

Your body arched as he stilled, buried to the hilt. He kissed your neck, your cheek, your jaw. He brought the fingers he used to play with your clit up to your mouth and bid you to suck.

“Taste that?” He asked.

You nodded. Too spent, too tired, to fucked out to do anything else but yawn. Terry chuckled, and slipped out. His cum leaked out with him, sliding down your leg and dripping onto the bed.

“Sleepy,” you mumbled.

“I know, baby. But let’s run you a bath first and I’ll change these sheets,” he said. He lowered your arms from his neck and then laid you on your side. He gave you a kiss on your forehead.

“Don’t let me catch you without your bracelets again,” he said.

“Yes, Big Daddy,” you yawned, stretching out onto the bed to await his tender, loving aftercare.

WHEW. If you need more like I do, here ya gooo! The Secret Terry Richmond Files

Taglist: how did this get so big? I love ya'll!