#you’d get so much shit? the anons i received for making different choices in the rpg
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
can i be honest. i’m so scared about how tumblr will be when d*tv releases
#the dragon age fandom made me leave social media because if u didn’t#hold the same opinions as the fandom had ‘agreed upon’ to be correct and right#you’d get so much shit? the anons i received for making different choices in the rpg#very much like how i received a death threat for saying ascending astarion is ok#i don’t wanna go through this againnnnnn#i think i’ll just leave again for a few months. i clearly follow a lot of the dragon age fandom i don’t wanna see the discourse or nothing#i think it might be genuinely triggering for me? i actually feel like. i’m shaking a bit? just thinking about it#anyway .
31 notes
·
View notes
Note
Ok, I just spent the last few minutes doing nothing but staring at Kara in that DWTS piece and I don't see it AT ALL. Beyond being blonde I see absolutely no resemblance between your Kara and either Sara or Ava. It's just not there.
It's a gorgeous work of art. If anon needed to look at Lena’s hair (ignoring the fact both characters are clearly named in the piece and the caption) to figure out the blonde was Kara I suspect that they have worse eyesight than me without my glasses, and I’m not legally or safely allowed to drive without them.
And you would think that humans as a species would have figured out by now that “Not to be [incredibly insulting in one way or another] but [is incredibly insulting]” is not a thing that is ever ok to say to anyone at any time. “Not to be a dick but” then don't. Just stop talking and cut your losses there. Creatives in particular have already said it to ourselves a million times in our heads, we don't need outside confirmation that our self-doubt was right all along.
I had a chapter I posted with a note “this is the most nervous I have been about any piece of writing I have ever done. I hope it doesn't suck too much.” and then got a comment “Since you asked for criticism [here are all the reasons this sucked and one minor ‘compliment’ at the end]”. Like exactly what in that note says “yes I welcome people ripping apart something I spent the last several months agonizing over”? Nearly made me quit writing altogether. I do not understand the way these people think and hope I never do.
i’m sorry that happened to you! making something and sharing it with the world will always be two very different joys to me — creating is a given but publishing it is a choice, and especially when you first get started, putting your work online is an incredibly vulnerable & incredibly brave thing. i know how devastating having even one person receive it like that can be — good for you for not letting it stop you!
to be honest, i'm still amazed by how much the culture in the fandom spaces i’m in subscribes to the ‘don’t like, don’t interact’ idea. my first experiences with publishing fanwork (fic) happened in the early 1700s, when getting feedback was rare (most websites didn’t have a built-in function to respond, so you’d only get people going through the trouble of emailing you their thoughts directly) and when it did come, the comments leaned toward the brutally honest, like you had presented your work to a classroom of your peers ready to pick apart the things they thought needed work. (in other words, there were a lot of shit sandwiches.)
the thing is that anonymous critiques like that — while having their value, especially when english was still a foreign language to me! — will never be very effective, because they’re coming from a random stranger whose credentials are entirely unknown. i’ve always learned the most from friends whose work i admire and who i know are genuinely interested in helping each other improve. those are the people i want to be learning from (and with)!
i’m sure you know this but it bears repeating how much of what we love about fanwork is exceedingly subjective, and the more you find your own style, the more you realize there’s not one way to ‘do’ art (whatever kind) correctly. no matter how ‘good’ your work is, someone will inevitably be unhappy with your choices.
so i assume most of the anonymous criticism we do receive is from people who aren’t writers or artists themselves, and that they’re clueless both to what they’re talking about and how their words will land. it’s made it much easier for me to shrug off their remarks and continue doing what i love. i hope you feel that way too! i hope we have an easy week ahead with plenty of time, energy and inspiration to create whatever we choose to!
#thank you for the thoughtful ask#& sorry about the late reply!#i'm in hermit mode plotting out this rootin' tootin' new au#i get a little obsessive. you know how it is!#ask me things!#pyresrpgear
13 notes
·
View notes
Text
Do You Get My Letters
✥ Pairing: Levi x fem!Reader, somewhat Reiner x fem!Reader
✥ Themes: Fluff, angst, sadness, big ass plot twist
✥ Warnings: Female bodied reader (she/her pronouns,) Pregnancy and birth (nothing gory.) Mentions of death, violence, and threats. Manipulation.
✥ Synopsis: You are carrying Reiner's baby when he betrays Paradis. Levi decides to step in.
✥ Word Count: 2.2k
(there is a part two up to this fic, but i've decided i'm going to rewrite the ending at some point.)
Anon's Request: Hi! I saw your requests are open so here I want to give my little scenario a try! 🕳🤸🏽♀️ I thought abt this last night, I’m currently rewatching AOT after 6 yrs and yet to finish season 4, so sorry if I’m wrong abt timelines/the plot? My request is the reader was with child with Reiner, but b4 reader told him, he betrayed and exposed his mission. Levi stepped in to help reader. And btw, I just finished watching ep 3 of season 4, so maybe Eren telling reiner abt his child and he regrets leaving the reader? And reiner jealous at the fact Levi is most likely considered his child’s father at that point. I can’t come up with an ending, so I’ll leave it up to you if you do take in my request. If this isn’t your type of writing I totally understand!
Note: This story is canon divergent. It is set in season 4, but in a universe where Reiner is not revealed as a traitor/the armored titan until a few months before season 4 takes place, as the reader was having relations with him until then and did not know his secret. I’m sorry if that change bothers you, I just wanted to write this as sort of its own story. This story contains season 4 spoilers! It also has nothing to do with the canon ending of AOT.
---
Dear Reiner,
I hope this letter somehow gets to you, I don’t quite know where to start.
In a perfect world, I would be so happy to tell you this. You’d be ecstatic too, I think. And before you try to second guess me: I’m sure by now, don’t worry.
I’m pregnant.
I guess we weren’t careful enough before you left. I feel like an idiot. And lost. But I’m not hopeless. I know myself, I can make it work somehow. With or without you.
I’m still in shock about you. How could someone so close hide so much? You’re a talented spy I suppose, a great asset to Marley. You made me trust you with my entire life. You made me love every false thing about you. And this is the rude awakening I get in return.
I’ll raise our child to value honesty and kindness, all in spite of you.
Sincerely,
Reader
---
The paper was damp with tears after you lifted your pen for a final time. You wished you could just keep the whole thing a secret: go make a quiet life for yourself somewhere else. It wouldn’t be right. Not after all of the dishonesty that man had spewed to you over the past few years. You had to tell him.
The door to the office room you’d settled in to write the letter creaks open. It’s Levi. He looks at your puffy eyes somberly, sympathetic. He was the first person you had told about the entire situation. Not because you were close, just because you needed help.
You fold your letter and stick it into a sturdy envelope. Levi takes it in his hand.
“That piece of shit doesn’t deserve a thing from you. Not a letter. Certainly not tears,” Levi says, using a clean handkerchief to wipe a stray drop from your cheek, “but I am proud of you.”
You take the handkerchief from him, feeling more tears stream down your face.
“Proud? I’m a fucking idiot,” you say through your sobs.
“Don’t even try to pull that self pity shit with me. Things happen sometimes. And you’re strong enough to commit to getting through it,” he responds.
You stand up, pushing your chair out. You look at him as you dry your face off again.
“I’m alone. How the hell am I supposed to do this shit alone?”
“You are not alone,” Levi replies. You’re shocked when he pulls you into a hug. “I’m going to help.”
You had never seen this side of him before. You look at him as you pull away slowly, tears still welled in your eyes.
“Are you sure? That's a big burden, Levi. None of this has to involve you.”
“Not the biggest burden I’ve ever taken on,” he shrugs. “There’s a lot of death around here, Y/N. Everyone is going to be happy about the little bit of life you’re giving us.”
You chuckle. He’s cynical, but he’s right.
He licks the envelope as he walks toward the door.
“Want me to run you a hot bath or something? Is that the type of shit pregnant people need?” he asks.
You laugh, a little harder than normal. It felt so relieving to laugh.
“Sure, Captain,” you respond softly.
---
Dear Reader,
I received your letter before the battle in Marley. I actually got to hand it to Reiner myself. He knows everything now. He broke down in front of me after reading it, going on about how much he regrets everything. How he wishes he could change things and be there for you. He begged me to kill him right there.
The world will eventually not have suffering like what you are going through now.
Eren Jaeger
---
Your jaw had dropped reading it. He begged me to kill him.
You hand the letter Levi had just delivered back to him. He reads it with a furrowed brow.
“Do you think…” you begin, your voice shaky, “do you think I could send another letter?”
Levi purses his lips, “Possibly. I can ask Jaeger. But right now, you need to bring your blood pressure back down.”
You were over seven months along now. You had found out about your pregnancy late, after being in denial for four whole months. Hange insisted on checking you out after you’d thrown up every morning for a week.
Levi had since gone on a parenting book reading spree; he made you read several of them too. He knew just about everything you needed to do to make a healthy baby: what to eat, what not to eat, how to exercise, when to go to the doctor, etc. It was really sweet how much he cared. You knew it gave him hope, something to fight for, something to come home to.
You were terrified when he left for Marley. You kissed him for the first time when he returned. Just about everyone you knew had to fight. You wished you could be out there fighting with them like you were supposed to. Maybe you could have made a difference.
Levi takes your hand, squeezing it to bring you out of your thoughts.
“What can I do?” he asks.
“Get me a glass of wine,” you grumble.
“Absolutely not.”
---
Dear Reiner,
Reader does not know I’m sending this. So keep it that way, or I’ll kill your sorry ass. Or maybe not, you’d probably enjoy that. In that case I’ll get creative.
How does it feel? Being a fucking deadbeat? Is it everything you’d thought it’d be and more? Fucking her and leaving her with nothing, like she belongs in a whorehouse. Reminds me of what happened to my mother. Pieces of shit like you came in and sent her to her death, leaving her kid behind to starve.
I wasn’t about to let her suffer like my mother did. But you were. I’m glad your choices haunt you, Reiner. You fucking deserve it.
I’ll be there for the both of them from now on, doing everything you were never capable of. She’s due any day now, I’m sure she’ll try to write to you.
Levi
---
You feel your first contraction while napping on the couch with Levi. You were settled in between his legs, your back leaning up against his chest. He had his hands on your stomach; he loved to feel the baby kick and tell them some of the happier stories in his memories.
The two of you had grown so close over the past few months. You slept together every night now. You didn’t want to leave each other’s sides if you didn’t have to. Levi would cuddle and massage you any time your pregnant body was ailing you.
You had fantasized with him about life after the war. He wanted to be a husband, a father, to live peacefully in the countryside. And he wanted more than anything for you to join him.
The first contraction wasn’t painful enough for you to make much more than a grunting noise, but Levi woke up the second he felt your stomach contort a bit. He was on very high alert these days.
“Holy… shit…is that what I think it is?” Levi whispers, “Don’t answer. I’m getting Hange.”
He crawls out from behind you and sprints out of the room.
The pain worsens and becomes much more frequent while he’s out looking for Hange. You stand up eventually after getting the urge to walk around - and your water breaks. You start panicking, unsure of how dilated you were and how much time you had left before pushing. You really wished you’d done more than just skimmed through those birthing books right about now.
Levi and Hange eventually come sprinting back into the room with a wheelchair and cold rags to find you whimpering in pain on the couch, trying your best to control your breathing.
You’re rushed down the halls to the Scout’s infirmary, where Levi had made sure the perfect room was set up for you - and it had been that way for two months.
The next hour goes by in a blur. Hange knew the biology of how to deliver the baby, and Levi knew how to coach you. He helped you hold your legs back when you pushed, and helped you count out your breathing. Hange attended to everything that might have made Levi faint, like checking your dilation and making sure the baby was coming out at the right angle. You got lucky having these two by your side.
Through all of your efforts, you finally hear a cry. You look up to see Levi holding your tiny new baby as Hange wiped them clean. He was smiling, way bigger than you’d ever seen him smile before, with tears in his eyes.
“Here,” he says softly, handing her to you.
You cradle her on your bare skin. “She’s so perfect, Levi! Look how sweet she is!” you coo.
“What are you going to call her?” he asks, stroking your hair as you gleam down at your baby.
“I was thinking,” you smile, “Kuchel.”
Levi lets out small gasp. Tears start streaming down his face, his efforts to stifle them failing.
“Really? I think that’s,” he wipes his eyes, “a wonderful name.”
—-
Dear Reiner,
She’s finally here! Oh my god, she’s precious. Levi and Hange helped to deliver her. Labor went smoothly. Levi started to cry when he saw her for the first time. She really is just that perfect. We are calling her Kuchel, after Levi’s mother. He cried when I told him that, too (don’t tell him I’m sharing those crying details.) I've decided to give her Levi’s last name as well.
Levi set up the perfect nursery for us.
If you really did feel guilty for leaving - don’t be. I’m happy.
She has your eyes.
Sincerely,
Reader
—-
Dear Reiner,
Kuchel said her first word today. Of course it wasn’t mama, she’s such a daddy’s girl. She started crawling awhile ago, we are now working on standing up on our own. She has all of this blonde curly hair, too. She’s growing up so fast.
Reader
—-
Dear Reiner,
Levi proposed a few days ago. It was so perfect. We found a nice house with room for a farm that will be perfect for a family.
I can only wonder how you’re doing, now that the war is over.
Are you even alive?
Reader
—-
Dear Reiner,
I’m expecting again. Levi is beyond excited. I am too, of course. Kuchel started school this year. She is such a smart kid.
I still wonder about you. After all these years.
Reader
—-
Message after message, word after word. No response. You had decided he must be dead. The devastation after the war would argue that he was.
That is, until you found yourself rummaging through one of Levi’s desk drawers, looking for baby Isabel’s lost pacifier.
You felt the bottom of the drawer shift. A false bottom?
You pry at it until it comes open.
Letters.
Dozens of opened letters. With Marleyan postage stamps.
You pull out the first bundle you see. They’re all from you. Unopened. Unsent. You set them aside, your jaw quivering.
You pull out the second bundle and gasp.
—-
Dear Reader,
Eren showed me your letter. I am terribly sorry. Let me fix this, somehow. You can come to live with me in Marley. I will take care of you. Please.
I’m not just a traitor, a liar, a farce. Everything between us was real. I can explain everything. Just trust me.
Love,
Reiner
—
Dear Reader,
Do you get my letters?
I’ve only heard rumors about our new baby girl. I wish I could see her. Just once. For a second. Do you have a camera? I know they’re hard to come by in Paradis. I can send one.
I’d do anything to change this. You know I would.
Love,
Reiner
—-
To Levi,
You son of a bitch. I know exactly what you’re doing. You think this is protecting her, but it’s not. Just let her talk to me. She would listen, she would understand. You said yourself that she writes. You manipulative, sick bastard. That is MY child. She will never be yours. No matter what you brainwash her to believe, your dirty Ackerman blood does not run through her veins. She deserves to know. You are the farce, Levi.
Reiner
—-
There were dozens more. All opened. All from Reiner.
You sink down to the floor, tears spilling from your eyes.
You are the farce, Levi.
But, why? He was just protecting you, right?
The office door opens. You jump, shoving the letters back into the drawer.
“Mommy, why are you crying?” Kuchel asks.
You take a deep breath, staring down at the letters, thinking about everything that could have been.
“Are you happy here, Kuchel?”
“Yes!” she chirps, “Every day!”
“Then it’s nothing, baby. Mommy just got hurt. She’s better now.”
Your daughter giggles and skips out of the room, leaving you to hide away the rest of the letters.
༺♥༻
I REALLY HOPE I understood your request, Anon! I actually had a lot of fun writing this. It isn't something I would normally think to write, but I'm so glad you shared this idea! Sorry for the sad ending, I love playing w people's emotions ;)
༺♥༻
#levi x reader#levi ackerman x reader#levi ackerman#levi aot#reiner x reader#reiner braun#reiner x you#levi x you#attack on titan#aot x reader#aot imagines#levi imagine#reiner imagine#snk reiner#snk levi#tw: pregnancy#tw: threats#tw: manipulation#tw: mentions of death
716 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sandor Clegane Smut Alphabet
Requested by: anon
Warnings: what it says on the tin. Smut.
Gif creds to owner
A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)
He cradles you, shushing you gently and rubbing your back. “You alright, little one?” He’ll ask. He’s really very tender, offering you light ale and little things to eat, kissing your forehead
B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
He’s a thigh man. He loves having hold of your thighs as you fuck, he likes them even better when they’re either side of his forehead...
He doesn’t like anything really on himself, but being with you has made him a little more proud
C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)
He likes it deep inside you, and loves to admire it trickling out after he pulls out. If you’ve had a quickie, he’ll replace your small clothes over your cunt and pat the gusset where his come is already seeping through the fabric. “Mine.”
D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
He loves to overstimulate you. You beg so prettily abd stumble over your words, trying to figure out if you’re begging him to stop because you’re too sensitive, or keep going because you’re teetering on the edge of another orgasm
E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)
He’s fucked, but he’s always had to pay for it. In his eyes, no woman in her right mind would go near him.
F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)
It used to be doggy (not because he’s the Hound stfu) but as you grew closer, and you assured him you didn’t give a shit about his scars, having you ride him quickly became a fave
G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)
In the earlier part of your relationship it was always intense and serious.
If you’ve been married a few years (and far, far away from kings landing) then you can get a little silly during it
H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)
He doesn’t give a shit about your hair or his own. So long as it’s clean, do as you like
I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)
Very, very intimate, even when it’s rough. He’ll hold you close to his chest as he ruins you
J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)
Sometimes, if you’re both particularly busy, he takes matters into his own hands. He hates it though; he’d much rather have your hand- or mouth...
He also likes watching you get yourself off, whether that’s by your own hand or on his cock
K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)
Size difference (he big), spanking. Other than that, I think he’s fairly tame
L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)
Bedroom. Nice and safe.
Failing that, anywhere that locks (or has something pushed up against the door)
M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)
Seeing you get sassy or bossy gets him going 100%. He also really likes watching you dress in the morning
N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Sandor does NOT share.
And anything that puts you in harms way? Absolutely not.
O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)
King of oral. He’s surprised at first that you’d let him put his scarred face anywhere near your nether regions, but he’s not complaining. With definitely make you come several times over before he even unlaces his trousers.
P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)
His go to is fast and rough, especially if he’s tightly wound up. However, occasionally, he likes it nice and slow
Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)
He’d much rather be shut up in a cosy room with the door firmly locked.
Needs must though 🤷🏻♀️
R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)
Somewhat? Anything remotely dangerous is a big no- you’re precious to him. But if you say ‘Sandor, I’d like you to tie my wrists together’ or ‘you could spank me if you want?’ He’d give something like that a go
S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)
Ooohhh he can LAST, and go for quite a few rounds. It’s normally you who taps out first
T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)
He doesn’t own any, and he’d rather just do it himself than ‘fuck about with wooden cocks’
His belt comes in handy sometimes though
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Sandor isn’t one to tease you too much. He does, however, plant some very delicious ideas in your mind when you can do absolutely nothing to resolve it. And then when you finally get to your rooms (or anywhere with a lock) he’ll definitely comment about how wet you are...
V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)
He starts of relatively quiet, just a few grunts and groans- he always, always moans loud and long when he first enters you.
As he reaches his climax, he gets louder and louder, grunting, growling, groaning as his thrusts get a little sloppier...
W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)
Most arguments end up with a good rough, angry fuck.
And afterwards, you both apologise for being petty or stupid or ignorant.
And then you have a good make-up fuck :)
X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)
He’s a big man. That’s all. Do with that what you will ;)
Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)
It ebbs and flows, but it’s always there. Sometimes he craves physical release (those are when he’s at his roughest), other times he needs to be reassured and told you love him
Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
It depends, really, but more often than not, he lays awake, staring at the ceiling for ages until the sound of your soft breathing and snoring lulls him to sleep
#sandor clegane x reader#Sandor Clegane x you#Sandor Clegane x y/n#the hound x reader#sandor clegane deserves the world#Sandor Clegane smut#game of thrones#game of thrones smut#game of thrones HCs#Sandor Clegane HCs#request#2021#smut alphabet
551 notes
·
View notes
Text
DSMP x m!reader (aesthetic doesn’t “fit the norms”)
This was requested by my lovely 💜🕸✨ anon. Warnings: hate(ful) comments, protective behavior, (mentions of) violence, cursing (very mild) Characters: Dream, George, Sapnap, Karl, Quackity (romantic or platonic, u choose) Pronouns: he/him Type: fluff
Dream:
this man honestly loves your style
who wouldn’t honestly, you looked so good!
when you first met Dream, he complimented you on your fashion
you were wearing black fishnets
a black skirt
and a black hoodie
with a blue jean jacket on top
he asked if you would be okay taking a picture (both of your guys’ faces are cropped out) so that he could post it on instagram
you said yes
it was posted with the caption “y/n has great fashion sense :)”
twitter freaked out over it
if anyone gave you shit over how you dressed, you’d better know that Dream is ready to beat. them. up.
George:
George, I think, would be far less vocal in his fascination with your outfits
instead, you’d catch him staring at you and your awesome skirt that swished when you moved
if you ever outright asked him what he thought, he’d respond so honestly
“I personally don’t think it’d look good on me” that’s a lie, gogy, we think you’d look great “but you look amazing!”
If you ever received any hate comments, you’d go straight to George
he’s so supportive and kind that you’d trust him to listen to you, or even just listen
if you say it’s okay, he will give someone the lecture of their life for daring to insult you
I swear, he’s so scary when he’s actually mad
Sapnap:
Sapnap would be constantly talking about how cool your style is
on stream: “Yeah, guys. Have you seen Y/n’s style?! It’s sooooo good. Like, I could never pull it off, but they look awesome.”
his friends and chat make fun of him for how much he talks about your style but he has absolutely no shame
one time, he did a stream making a tier list to rank all of his favorite of your outfits
he and chat worked together to create the “Y/n Outfit Olympics”
The criteria that was used to determine the score of the outfit was very detailed (he took it very seriously)
how it looked on you (obviously)
how comfortable you were in it
practicality
fashion
overall aesthetic (meaning, how well all of the individual elements of the look go together)
He has his moods block and ban anyone who says anything remotely rude
Karl:
Karl thought your style was the most adorable thing in the history of the universe (no u, Karl)
He loved helping you pick out different elements
specifically jewelry. If you liked wearing a necklace, earring, bracelet, etc. he’d have so much fun finding which ones went best with your outfit
there was time (over the span of a week) that you were feeling down because of all the hate comments you were getting
Karl did everything he could to try and cheer you up
compliments
hugs
kisses (if romantic)
cuddles
Finally, he had a great idea
you were scrolling through twitter when the sound of Karl’s voice made you look up
There he was, standing in your clothes (if you have different sizes in clothes, imagine he bought what you wear in his size)
actually, he was just wearing your favorite skirt with his favorite sweater on top
Quackity:
I personally think that Quackity would always support you and your clothing choices, but maybe it wouldn’t be his absolute favorite
He thought you looked great, and would tell you that every time he saw you, but it isn’t his favorite style
However, if anybody tried to make fun of you or tease you...
This man turns into a one-man army.
“What did you just say about Y/n?!?!?!” *he puts a protective arm around you* “They look freakin’ amazing. So I suggest you turn around and leave him alone before I beat your ass.”
He would absolutely get you so many beanies (to match him) that would match with your aesthetic
Black matches? You bet ur gonna find a whole collection of black beanies on your bed when you get home from whatever.
#crew boys#feral boys#dream team#dteam#mcyt headcanons#mcyt#dsmp#dsmp headcanons#quackity#quackity x reader#karl#karl x y/n#karl jacobs#georgenotfound x reader#georgenotfound#george#sapnap#sap nap x reader#dream x reader#dream#dreamwastaken#headcanon#headcanons#anon request#anon#💜🕸✨ anon#💜🕸✨ of the wren queen anon army#wren_queen asks#wren_queen anon army#wren_queen stuff
93 notes
·
View notes
Text
Trick. (m)
pairing: jeon jeongguk x reader
genre: smut, probably some crack
word count: 4.4k (this was not supposed to be this long)
warnings: piercer!jk, tattooartist!jk, some taehyung in the beginning because i do what i want, oral (f receiving), degradation, dirty talk, pulling jk’s hair, manbun!jk, etc.
summary: you did not come to the tattoo shop that taehyung works at for a clit piercing, but you left with one.
notes: for anon ;)
You hum a tune as you pull open the door to the shop, a small smile on your face as you spot that familiar head of red hair peeking up from behind the front desk.
“Yet again, you always find a way to manage to be unprepared for my appointments.” You playfully scold him, making your way over to the desk and propping your elbows up on top of it.
“Taehyung?” You question, standing on your toes to get a better view of whatever it was that he was doing, when he suddenly shoots up off of the ground with a few different tattoo instruments in hand that you couldn’t even be bothered to try and recognize.
“You’re early, doll.” He does that signature side smirk of his and tosses the tools aside clumsily on the desk. He leans in to place a quick kiss to your forehead, as usual.
“You told me to come at six, right?” You question, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as Taehyung strides over to the other side of the shop, grabbing his backpack and his keys.
“I did. Is it six yet?” You tilt your head to the side as you pull your phone out of your back pocket, quickly scanning the screen with your eyes.
“It’s almost 6:30, kid.” You tell him, shaking your head in disbelief as you tuck your phone back into your pocket.
“Oh, well, you’re late.” He shrugs, spinning his keys around his pointer finger as he walks toward you. You stand where you are, arms crossed as your eyes trail up his body toward his face.
“You know how I feel about my time being thrown to waste.” He whispers as he stands in front of you, snaking his arm around your waist to pull you into his chest.
“You also know that I take a strong dislike to you calling me a kid, ________.” You place your hands on his chest and lightly push him away. Though the two of you were just friends, he had a tendency to mess with you like this.
“I demand respect.” He says, struggling to maintain a serious expression. You laugh at this, and take a seat in the chair at his station.
“Are you about to put your stuff in your car?” You ask, wondering why he gathered all of his things up.
“Yes, and I’m about to leave, too.” You furrow your eyebrows in confusion.
“How are you about to leave if I have an appointment-“
“Consider this your punishment for being late.” He shrugs nonchalantly, giving you a half assed wave before heading towards the door.
“What? Is Yoongi here?” If Taehyung was about to leave, then that meant Yoongi was still here. He owned the shop, but he usually left before Tae.
You’d grown quite fond of him as a result of all of the time you’d spent at the shop, so if Taehyung was leaving, then you had no problem going to pay Yoongi a visit instead.
“Nope!” Taehyung calls out over his shoulder, the door already open as he sticks one of his long legs outside.
You stand up, preparing to follow Taehyung out.
“Someone’s there to do your tattoo, doll. He’s in the back.” This was news to you. For the many years that you had known Taehyung, he was the only person to have worked here alongside Yoongi.
“You got a new guy? Who is he?” Taehyung hums, carefully considering how he should introduce the newcomer to you.
“His name is Jungkook. He’s a sweet kid. Doesn’t talk much, but he’s good at what he does. I trust him, because he’s got plenty of experience. You’ll be fine.”
“You know that I only trust—“
“Bye!” Taehyung closes the shop door, the little bell above it ringing a few times afterward.
You huff and make your way to exit as well.
‘Punishment my ass.’ You thought.
“You must be Taehyung’s six o’clock.” You heard a gentle voice from behind you. You quickly turned around after hearing his first few words. Taehyung said he was in the back, but you didn’t expect him to show up so suddenly.
“Did I startle you?” He asks, with a curious tilt of his head. You didn’t trust yourself to speak at the moment, so you nodded instead.
This man was sex on legs.
He had a slim build with a cinched waist to balance his wide shoulders, buff arms that were littered in a few random tattoos, and by the way his shirt clung to his chest, you were safe to assume that he had a chiseled torso as well.
“I heard the bell, so I came out to check if Taehyung left or not. I apologize, ________. It’s ________, right?” You nod again.
“I know that I’m likely not your first choice, but I can promise you that you’ll leave fully satisfied. I’m good at what I do.” He flaunts, somewhat of a cocky smirk on his face.
It looked good on him.
“I’m Jungkook, by the way.”
“So I’ve heard.” You respond, walking a bit closer to him to avoid having to continue talking past an awkwardly large gap.
He discreetly swipes his eyes over your figure as you approach him.
“You’re here for a piercing, yeah?” You hum in confirmation. Jungkook smiles.
“It’s a good thing Taehyung left anyway, then. I’m much better at those than he is.” You raise both of your eyebrows in surprise, immediately taken aback by his bold demeanor.
You could’ve sworn Taehyung said that he doesn’t talk much.
“I’ll take you to the back, unless you’d like to get your piercing done out here.” You shake your head, and insist that Jungkook lead you to the back room.
The walk is uncomfortably silent. You aren’t sure whether you should be looking straight at the manbun resting atop his head, the way his arms flex as he walks, or the way he moved with such confidence with every step he took.
Damn, you were being a creep.
You almost bumped into him as he abruptly stopped in front of a closed door with a sign that read ‘Knock before Entering’ on it.
He opened the door, stepping aside to let you take the lead.
“Hop up on that chair and make yourself comfortable. I’ve got to get a few things together before we get started. Is this your first piercing? You know, aside from your ears?” You plop down stiffly onto the chair, holding your elbows to your sides as you watch him carefully.
“Yeah.” You respond dryly. He enters the room and closes the door behind himself.
“You chose a clit piercing for your first time? Shit, you’re a trooper.” Your eyeballs bulge out of your skull.
“I chose a what?” You lean forward, as if that were going to help you better understand the bullshit that just came out of his mouth.
“Yeah?” Jungkook is confused at your reaction. “Taehyung said that’s what you asked for.” You wildly shake your head in disagreement.
How in the hell did he mistake a belly button piercing for a clit piercing?
“No, no no. That’s definitely not what I asked for.” You are completely alert now.
“Oh, hm.” Jungkook shrugs as he sits down on a stool, which was placed to the right of the chair you were on. He continues to prepare his tools, as if you didn’t say that you were not here for a clit piercing.
“Why are you still messing with that stuff, then?” You question, completely on edge. Jungkook shoots you a bewildered gaze.
“Even if you aren’t getting your clit pierced, any other piercing will require the same materials.” He states, staring blankly at you. You clear your throat and lean back in the chair.
Now you felt like a dumbass.
Jungkook turns back around, shaking his head with a small smirk on his face as he continues to prepare his work station.
You took this time to stare at his hands.
He had finger tattoos.
Fuck.
“You should definitely get a clit piercing though.” He comments nonchalantly, opening up a drawer and pulling some pointy object out of it.
“Excuse me?” You were baffled. Jungkook ignores your outburst, and nods as he slips on a pair of latex gloves.
“I’ve heard that it makes sex much more pleasurable, for both you and your partner.” You scrunch your face up, wondering where this was relevant to the conversation.
“Even if you decide to take your pleasure into your own hands, it’ll feel much better than your regular orgasms.”
“It’s just a suggestion, though.” He shrugs, turning to face you with his tattooed hands neatly tucked away in the gloves.
You kind of wished they were off.
“Alright, where’d you want that piercing?” After his little speech, you were certain that he had unintentionally swayed you into forgetting what you originally came for.
A belly button piercing, right?
“How...painful would it be to get my—would it hurt, is my question.” You asked. Jungkook raised both of his eyebrows, surprised at your sudden interest in the topic when you were ready to lose your shit over it just a few moments ago.
He leans his elbow against the counter, propping his head up on his hand as he thinks about it.
“I’ve only given a few, since people don’t really come in for them, but it’s a slight pinch. It’s a needle going through your most sensitive area, so it’s not going to feel nice.” He comments.
“Unless you’re into that, I mean. In that case—“
“Nope, nah, not into that.” You quickly shut the idea down, causing him to laugh.
“Why’d you say people don’t come in for them? Are they not common?”
“They’re more common than you’d think, actually. Clit piercings are only confirmed by appointments, so you can’t just walk in like you would for a tattoo. Most women come in for the consultation, and then they don’t come back.” His fingers fidget inside of the gloves.
“Why’s that?” You would have to apologize to him later for asking all of these questions.
“They probably think that the actual clitoris is getting pierced.” You open your mouth to ask him another question, but he beats you to the chase.
“It’s not.” Oh.
“It’s the clitoral hood.” You hum. That sounded much less painful.
“Literal clit piercings are a thing, but it’s too much of a risk. We don’t offer those here.” You felt a bit better about the idea of it now.
You were literally about to sit here and change your entire plan because of a cute tattooed man.
Then again, you were already here. You know for a fact that you would never come back purposefully to get a clit piercing.
Er, a clitoral hood piercing.
On the bright side, if you didn’t like it, you could take it out. So, was there really any harm in it?
There was one thing you didn’t know, though.
“How long is the healing period?” You ask. Jungkook purses his lips.
“About eight weeks, give or take a few.” Damn, well, there was that.
“Let’s do it.” You smile.
What the hell is wrong with you?
“Really?” Jungkook smiles lazily, and you nod, still a bit unsure, but ready to go for it regardless.
“I do have to give you an unofficial check up before I can determine if this piercing is right for you, though. Slide your pants off for me. Panties too, please.” He pulls the gloves down his wrist. You were frozen in shock.
For what, though? Did you think he was going to pierce you through your fucking pants?
Jungkook waves his hand in front of your face to try and catch your attention. Nothing.
“Would you rather me do it?”
“I got it, I got it.” You hurriedly say, your fingers rushing to the button on your jeans.
You pop it open, and Jungkook respectfully turns away to give you your privacy.
You get down to your zipper, and everything runs smoothly until it gets caught.
‘No, not now. Not right now.’ You tell yourself, trying every possible method to get it free. You try to zip it up and zip it back down, see if any material is caught on it, but nothing works.
Jungkook sees you flailing around out of the corner of his eye and slowly turns his head toward you, stifling a laugh at your frustration.
“Would you like some help?” He offers. You turn to face him, like a deer caught in headlights. A faint blush rises to your cheeks.
“If you wouldn’t mind.” You respond quietly.
He rolls over to you in the small stool he’s sat on, placing his hands on the top part of your pants to have something to hold onto as he grips the zipper between his fingers.
He tries to simply pull it down, but when that fails, he applies a bit more pressure, yanking the zipper so hard that you jolt a bit in the chair.
“Shit, I’m sorry, but it’s really caught in there….” He tries once more to simply pull the zipper, but he too grows frustrated and grips your thigh, his large hand clamped around it as he jerks the zipper with so much force that it breaks.
Your jeans pop open, your black lace panties staring Jungkook right in his face.
You were so thankful that you finally folded your laundry.
“Oh, fuck.” He immediately says, holding the thing between his fingers as he shoots you an unreadable look.
You, on the other hand, were trying to make up any valid excuse to determine why his hand was still on your thigh.
“Oh, uh,” He removes his hands from you and throws the zipper away. You have to stop yourself from making any noise that would show your disappointment at the lack of touch.
“Let’s just—get your pants off and toss them aside.” He grumbles, his voice considerably lower than it was a few minutes ago.
You oblige, sliding your jeans and underwear down in one go, allowing them to pool at your ankles before you take a glance over at Jungkook.
“Is this okay?” You ask, your hands covering your womanhood. Jungkook shakes his head.
“Off, completely.” You gulp, shakily kicking the fabric off of your feet and letting it fall. He catches your jeans before they hit the ground, folding them neatly and sitting them on a table in the corner of the room.
Jungkook rolls his chair around to face you, resting his hands gently on your bare legs. You shiver as he makes contact with your skin through the gloves.
“I’ll make this as quick as possible so it’s a comfortable process for you.” He eyes your hands as you use them to cover yourself, trying to decide what the best method is for you to loosen up a bit.
He taps the side of your leg with his hand twice, somewhat of a knowing smile on his face as he senses your weariness.
“Relax, ________. You have nothing to be afraid of.” You lift your head up to make eye contact with him, slowly lifting your hands as your legs open the smallest bit.
Jungkook gently spreads them further with his own hands, eyeing you intently as he does so.
It looked sexual to you, but you knew that he was probably looking at you like that just in case you decided to stop him.
You allowed Jungkook to spread your legs as wide as he needed in order to successfully complete his study of your anatomy.
You were spread wide in front of this gorgeous man, and you couldn’t have been more nervous. Any other stressful moment in your life didn’t compare to what was happening right now.
“Pull your legs up to your chest for me.” He orders carefully, his hands on your knees as he gently coaxes you to pull your legs up further.
“Shit.” He catches a glimpse of your folds through his peripheral vision, although he covers up his little slip up with a fake coughing fit.
“What was that?” You asked, worried that he might’ve needed you to do something different.
Jungkook shakes his head and waves his hand in a frenzy, as if to silently dismiss your question.
“Nothing, it’s perfect—I, you’re perfect. Stay just like that.” He swallows, and you watch his Adam's apple bulge. It makes your legs twitch, and Jungkook takes notes of this.
“I’m going to start now, okay?” He warns you, bringing himself closer to you as his hands slowly slip between your legs.
You bite down on your tongue as he lightly runs his fingers between your folds. You almost catch yourself sliding your hips towards his hand before you come to your senses.
He was barely even touching you, just ghosting his fingers over your folds as he inspected whatever he needed to.
“Yeah, you’re perfectly okay to get this piercing.” Jungkook asks, shifting around in his chair as his pants had gotten uncomfortably tight.
“When was the last time you saw a gynecologist?” He asks, as he continues to examine your glistening folds. He knew that it wasn’t necessary, and all he had to do was take a quick look to see if you were eligible to receive the piercing, but he couldn’t help himself.
Jungkook thought your pussy was perfect on its own, but to imagine it with a piercing through it? He could cum in his pants.
God, you just looked so good.
“Last month.” You comment, breaking him out of his trance, watching the way his face changes as he continues to stare between your legs.
He licks his lips, and you immediately clench in response, Jungkook’s gaze shifting to you in an instant as his fingers stutter over your mound.
“Last month what?” He says, letting his fingers linger a little too long around your clit.
“You asked me when I last went to go see a gynecologist.” You say, your voice caught in your throat as Jungkook quickly retreats his hand back to his side.
“I did?” Jungkook was swooning. You nod confusedly.
“I’ve got to get this thing done now.” He tells you, although he was talking mostly to himself. He gathers his tools in his hands, your eyes widening at the size of the needle in his fingers.
You instinctively close your legs as he circles closer to you once more, and he places his arm between them to cut your movement short.
“You want this piercing, don’t you?” He asks, voice low and gravelly. You nod, and he nudges your legs open.
“Keep yourself spread, and don’t wiggle around like that. It’ll hurt more if you do.” You close your eyes and toss your head backward against the chair as you feel his fingers dancing along your clitoral hood.
“Slight pinch, okay?” Jungkook grabs the needle, and even though your eyes aren’t open, you can almost feel it hovering over your body.
“Take a deep breath, and we’ll go on three.” You inhale slowly, your chest rising, as Jungkook begins his countdown.
“1…” He grazes the needle over your skin, and you twitch in the chair, your hands gripping the armrests for dear life.
“2!” He says, pressing the needle through your skin. Your eyes shoot open on contact and you squeal. Your legs do close against Jungkook’s warnings, but he forces his upper body between them to stop you from shutting them completely.
He slides the piece of jewelry through the small hole he’d just created, and you bite back a cry as he twists it around to make it sit more pleasantly.
“There, see?” He cleans up the small mess he’s created and disposes of his materials, the gloves following suit.
He instantly pulls his hair out of its bun, sliding the hair tie onto his wrists as he runs his fingers through his scalp.
“Where the fuck was three?” You scold him, as he reaches for a mirror off of the desk to hand to you.
“I never count to three. Take a look.” You grab the mirror from him and position it between your legs. This had to be one of the most awkward things you’d ever done in your life, but the piercing looked amazing.
You shifted a bit in the chair, the cool metal of it rubbing right against your clit.
You choke out a moan, regretting it as soon as you do.
“I’m so sorry, I just didn’t expect that to feel—feel the way it did.” You force the mirror back into his hands and hurry to get out of the chair, but a strike or soreness hits you right between your legs, and you’re right back on that chair where you started.
“I should’ve told you about the side effects, I suppose.” He watches in amusement as you struggle to even close your legs due to the new pressure applied to your clit.
Jungkook tilts his head to the side, his jaw clenched as he examines your lower half while you try to contemplate whether or not you should get up again.
“That bad, huh?” He leans forward, his hair falling in front of his eyes as he places his elbows on his knees.
You shoot him a quick glance. God, he looked so good.
“Yeah, that bad.” You groan, deciding to just ask him if he would go grab your clothes for you.
“I know a trick or two that could get rid of the soreness.” You quirk an eyebrow.
“Really?” He nods slowly, standing and tucking his hands into his pockets.
What? Tell me, and I’ll really owe you one.”
“The first is taking pain killers, and going without underwear whenever you can.” You nod, taking note of his words.
He leans over to whisper into your ear, and you jolt at the close proximity.
“The second is letting me fuck you with my tongue.” He whispers, smirking at your cute little gasp in reaction to his words.
“I don’t get it.”
Oh, you definitely got it.
You understood him loud and clear, but you weren’t sure if you could handle an orgasm right now. The overstimulation would send you through the roof.
“Consider it an apology for breaking your zipper, and your appointment will be free of charge since I was a bit underprepared.” He walks to stand in front of you, and you quickly close your legs, ignoring the burn it takes to do so.
“What’s the catch?” You definitely weren’t going to say no to this offer. How could you?
“This is a bit of an informal setting, so, how about you let me take you out sometime? You know, properly.” You smile.
Today had taken a weird turn of events, but it worked in your favor.
“Sure, sounds nice.” You chuckle.
“Good. Now show me what I want to see, ________.” He retaliates, roughly tugging at your hips to pull you onto the edge of the chair, your ass hanging off of it as he holds you firmly in both of his hands.
”You have such a pretty pussy, sweetheart.” He pushes your legs apart, and you mistakenly spread yourself wider for him.
Jungkook immediately lands three harsh slaps onto your freshly pierced clit. You cry out, clawing at the chair. You could feel the material ripping under your nails.
Tears pool in your eyes. Sure, it was painful, but it felt so good.
“Holy shit.” You blurt, your legs already shaking. He rolls his eyes.
“You didn't think it would be easy, would you?” You can sense Jungkook’s resentment, as a sadistic smile toys on his face. You laugh nervously.
“I didn’t—fuck!” He lightly rubs his fingers over your clit. He was barely applying any pressure, yet you were thrashing around wildly. Your legs threatened to close around his head, but Jungkook had much more strength than you, so it was easy for him to position you how he wanted.
“Is your little pussy sensitive?” He feigned caring for you, widening his doe eyes as he noticed the tears in yours.
“Very, please.” You whine, and Jungkook rolls his eyes.
“That’s too fucking bad. You’re vulnerable, and you’re mine, baby.” He hooks your leg over his shoulder, gripping your hands off of the chair and slinging them into his hair.
“Pull my fucking hair.” He orders, lowering his face down to your cunt. You gather his locks in your hands and yank them, a bit harsher than you intended to, but this only seemed to spur Jungkook on.
“Fuck, it feels so good when you do that.” He growls against you as he takes your clit into his mouth, the piercing pressing against his tongue lightly. You moan weakly, your eyes screwed shut as he wraps his lips around the sensitive nub and flicks his tongue ferociously against it.
“That’s so good, Jungkook.” You praise him, one of your hands coming up to tangle in your own hair as he mumbles and moans against your pussy.
“I knew I could turn you into a desperate whore for me. Look at you, chasing my tongue with your hips.” He tsks, although he takes pride in degrading you like this. He enjoyed the way your body trembled after every word he spoke.
“Ask me if you can cum.” He throws one of his arms over your stomach, the other pushing your thighs apart as he slips his tongue inside of your warmth, aiming right for the spot that made you twitch in ecstasy.
“Please, shit, I’m so close. Please don’t make me wait.” You beg.
Jungkook is relentless with his tongue.
He slides it right underneath your clit and begins to flick upward, pushing the metal against the bud with every twist of his tongue.
“Cum, then.” He says, as he grazes his teeth across your clit with the lightest touch.
This was the last straw for you, and your back shoots off of the chair as you pull Jungkook’s head further between your legs, wanting to savor every moment of your orgasm before letting go.
He pulls away from you first, leaning over to thread his fingers through your hair. He presses his lips against yours, forcing you to taste yourself on his tongue. This sends a shiver down your spine.
Jungkook lets you go, before throwing his hair back up into a messy bun.
“I don’t care that I broke your zipper, actually. Your pants have a button.”
tag list! let me know if you want to be on it. (you could send me a message, an ask, or just comment under this fic)
@bitchyaus @dontaskshhhhh @taesluttt @1-in-abillion @designjet @peachy-bhun @patpus @koracynthia120 @safi4x @someonewhowannadielol @dreamingsmile @rinastylesworld @fan-ati--c @sincemalik @bts-bay-bee @multiqueenss @nekee-lilac02 @cestlaviecia @jeonjungkookiiee @bunny-kix03
#blkjmn#bts smut#jungkook smut#jungkook x reader#jungkook imagine#jungkook au#jeon jungkook smut#jeon jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook imagine#jeon jungkook au#piercer jungkook#tattoo artist jungkook#jk smut
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
REPOST - THE NIGHT WE MET
THE NIGHT WE MET
PART ONE - THE NIGHT WE MET
Pairing: Javier Peña/ Female Murphy!Reader
Words: 5.3k
Summary: You decide to travel to Colombia on a whim, there you meet a gorgeous stranger that just so happens to be your brothers partner.
Content Warnings: 18+ Smut-ish (I wouldn’t wanna read it out to my mom), dry humping, dirty talk in Spanish which reader doesn’t understand so does it really count?, gratuitous love of the black shirt from the torture scene.
Anon was worried about losing my work when I switched blogs, so fear not. I’m reposting on here but I have no intention of deleting my other blog, it’s where I got my first 200 notes and I’m honestly blown away by it. I’m happy to announce I’m working on a fourth part. I’m not sure when I’ll post it as I’m still in the idea stage but it’s definitely a start, ay!
AO3
MASTERLIST
Author Note: So here is my return to writing! The word count got away from me but I loved every second of it. Always after prompts, so drop me a message on here if you’d like to see anything in particular. If it’s in my wheelhouse, you’ll definitely see it.
Pedro in the black shirt is what inspired me to write this, I can’t lie.
If you were brutally honest with yourself, this spur of the moment decision may have been a mistake.
Other people could make these choices and not have that nagging feeling in their gut from the second they booked their fuckin’ airline ticket. You had attempted to grab your crappy life by its metaphorical horns and go and sort this shit show out by yourself, but after your momentary bravery was used up, all that was left was a crippling anxiety that threatened to send you into one of your full scale panic attacks if you thought too hard about the fact you were following your big brother to Colombia.
Yes, Colombia. You, a U.S. national with no particular interest in hunting Pablo Escobar, had decided to vacation in sunny, crime ridden Bogotá on a whim.
You were fuckin’ dumb.
Sarcasm aside, you weren’t actually here on vacation, you were going to check on Stevie. Your brother, one of the DEA agents assigned with taking down Escobar.
You’d been worried about him for a few months, it had sounded like he was dealing with heavy shit in South America, you knew that was the job, but he was still your brother.
His calls had gotten less and less frequent until he stopped returning them all together and the only reason you knew he was alive were your pep-talks with your sister-in-law, trying to help her keep her shit together, but hell, you weren’t a therapist or a miracle worker. So when Connie rang asking to stay at your place you had obliged and she had returned to Miami a mere shell of her former self.
After a mammoth amount of prodding over the course of two days you managed to wring the truth out of her, not the nuggets of information she had given you over the phone in hushed whispers during her time in Colombia but the whole messy story; the communist Elisa Alvarez, Steve’s kidnapping and the cold edges your brother was developing.
It was all you could do not to book the tickets there and then, but you held out and supported Connie in the ways Steve couldn’t have, taking care of Olivia when you could and just trying your hardest to be there for her. Your presence alone seemed to be enough to help her through the days that followed. A week and a half after her return, you booked your flight to Colombia in secret.
You had to check on Steve.
He hadn’t answered a single one of your many many calls. You packed light and told Connie the morning of, and whilst she didn’t like it, she understood. You supposed that a part of her was relieved to know her husband would have someone in Colombia that wasn’t there to kill him.
So here you sat, two hours into your flight to the paradise destination; Bogotá. Your brother’s address scrawled on a scrap piece of paper in the one hand and a glass of cheap whiskey in the other. The alcohol did little to to calm your nerves, this was a dangerous place for a cop, let alone a fuckin’ clueless civilian.
When the plane finally touched down, you stood from your seat emptying the last few drops of whiskey which had tried to evade you onto your tongue, you picked up your backpack and queued to leave the plane.
The second you left the aircraft the humidity hit you like a brick wall, it was like all of the fresh air had been sucked out of the atmosphere. On a normal evening you would appreciate such a warm climate, but now the heat meant frustration to your tired brain and it only added to your baseline levels of anxiety as your hairline and upper lip were drenched as you walked through the arrivals gate.
Cards on the table; you didn’t have much of a game plan, you spoke no Spanish and stuck out like a sore thumb. You had the address but no means to get there, you didn’t relish the idea of getting in a taxi as a woman alone in a foreign country, but with little to no other options you went to hail one of the cabs that sat outside the airport.
Your fears turned out to be for naught, well not quite naught as the man had raked his eyes across your body for a large percentage of the trip in his mirror, but he had the good grace not to kidnap or murder you, which for you meant it was a successful journey, how low you had set the bar was just occuring to you.
After paying the gentleman he dropped you outside what appeared to Steve’s apartment building. You take a moment on the pavement to recollect yourself ready for your reunion. Peeling your denim jacket off, you decide instead to wrap it around your waist, tying the sleeves securely. With a harumph, you grab the handle of your suitcase, and drag it behind you. Your success thus far gives you a second wind of determination.
Though apparently dumb luck can only get you so far, because after heaving your suitcase up a flight of stairs and rapping on the door of apartment 20 until your knuckles ached, it began to dawn on you, you had no clue if this was even the right building.
“Fuck.” you mutter to yourself, you should’ve rang Connie or tried Steve again when you landed, but you’d been so single minded in carrying out your plan all common sense had apparently abandoned you. So with a million different scenarios of things you could’ve done better playing out behind your eyes you dragged your suitcase to the small lobby of the building, where the front door stood.
You huffed and dropped onto the bottom step in surrender, not quite sure where to go from here.
Weeks of anxiety and worry finally took their toll on your body as reality set in, and as it did so you couldn’t help but laugh at the sheer stupidity of the situation you’d put yourself in. A light chuckle escaped your body as you held your face in your hands, you rubbed at your eyes as a way of refreshing yourself before sighing and leaning back.
You must have sat with your head in your hands for around three hours before anyone of note arrived, you had received strange looks from residents in their comings and goings as they stepped around you, your expectant looks turned to disappointment when you realised they weren’t Steve. In fairness, you, a gringa sitting on the stairs at 2am, most likely wasn’t a daily occurrence to these homeowners.
By the time he came through the door, your eyes were closed and your head was leant on the bannister, trying to get what little rest you could. Your eyes opened a crack to see a man and a woman enter the building and turn right, the man had his arm around her as he stared at you in confusion, the look was so quick you may have missed it if you blinked, but they were talking in low whispers of Spanish and from the looks of things he didn’t give you a second thought.
So you extended him the same courtesy and shut your eyes once again, you heard the metal jangling of keys going into the lock, the sound of smacking lips and then the door was closed. You figured that was the end of it, instead you heard hurried footsteps coming towards you, your eyes shot open as he rounded the corner.
“Estás bien?” The man questioned. It took you a moment to realise he was talking to you, as you took him in you were struck by your stupidity, how could you have dismissed this man so quickly even in the throes of a mental breakdown. His chocolate brown eyes bore into your own as you realised he was waiting for a response.
“Uh… no hablo… español?” you pretty much asked him, cringing internally at your butchering of the most basic sentence of this gorgeous strangers language, his lips quirked at your mumbles making his mustache raise on one side with his smirk. Now, you’d never been a fan of a mustache, Steve and your father had both taken to styling their facial hair in such a way, and as a rule of thumb they were a big no-no. But my god. This man made that mustache his bitch and that bitch worked for him.
“You’re American?” He questions, smirk dropping along with his eyebrows in confusion as his brain processes the information.
“Oh thank god and Jesus fuckin’ christ above. You’re American!” Your timid nature had given way to pure unadulterated relief. “Stevie, Steve Murphy, he lives in this building, yeah?”
“Yeah… Stevi…Steve lives here- I’m sorry, who the hell are you?” He asks with a puzzled look and a shake of his head, there’s an air of distrust about him for some strange reason.
“I’m Y/N Murphy, I’m his sister.”
“Sister? Mierda… does he know you’re here?”
“Nope,” You pop your P as you shrug at the man before you with false nonchalance. “He’d have to answer the phone to me or Connie to know that now, wouldn’t he?”
“Steve.” The stranger sighed, annoyed.
“Sorry, who are you?” You asked, yourself becoming more bemused by the man by the second.
“I’m Steve’s partner, Javier.” He held out his hand which you were more than happy to take in a shake, his tan hand was soft yet strong as it held your own captive within it. “C’mon in I’ll give him a call, God knows what time he’s planning on getting back.”
“Uh, I don’t want to interrupt…” You mumble, waving your free hand vaguely towards where you knew the woman was waiting for him, making him smirk once again.
You were beginning to think that the sarcastic raise of his mouth was just his default resting face.
“You’re not interrupting anything.”
Now I know what you’re thinking, ‘cause I’d think it to. This is how people die in America, let alone fuckin’ Colombia, but if it’s a choice between dying at the hands of a gorgeous man who seems to know your brother or a stray that wonders in through the non-descript lobby door then you’d rather go out with a nice view, even if he did have a girlfriend.
If you had to gamble, you’d say you had a damn good chance of making it out of this apartment alive.
So you nodded and used the hand he hadn’t released yet to pull yourself up into a standing position. He wasn’t particularly tall but he still towered over you, your eyeline gave you a great view past his black shirt which was unbuttoned quite liberally, you assumed that was courtesy of the woman he’d entered with.
“Thank you,” you nodded at him with a genuine smile of relief. He didn’t reply, only grabbed the handle of your pull along suitcase before extending his arm towards his apartment and motioning to wordlessly say, after you.
Now you know how people say when you can feel a stare? You had the sensation before, but as you leaned over to pick up your backpack from the bottom step, you felt his eyes laser focus on your denim clad ass. You turned your head in disbelief and found his eyes still lingered there for a moment before meeting your own. Unbelievable. Part of you was flattered, the other part was bemused that he had a beautiful woman in there waiting and here he was ogling you.
You rolled your eyes, instilled with a new confidence as you turned and walked towards his apartment, you felt his eyes follow your form once more.
Steve’s hot partner was an ass man… Good to know.
…
As it turns out Javier’s girlfriend, or what you we’re starting to think was more of a one night stand, was not happy with the situation at all, you came to this discovery as Javier pointed you to the sofa before beginning arguing with her in hushed Spanish, the beautiful woman huffed and sent a dirty look your way before storming out and slamming the door behind her, with enough power to make it shake in its bearings. You raised your eyebrows at Javier from your seat. He shook his head with a sigh and began lighting up a cigarette, he turned and offered you one.
“No thanks, I quit.”
“Woman with an iron will?”
“Not quite,” You whisper, shaking your head.
He smiles before clearing his throat and moving over to pick up his landline. Javier presses a combination of buttons, before putting it to his ear and blowing the smoke from his lungs. His eyes met yours as the phone rang, he gave you reassuring wink.
“Murphy? … Yeah… you need to get back to your place now… You’ve got a guest…. No … come find out why don’t you?” Sarcasm dripped from his lazy tone, his voice was so smooth. It was like chocolate on gravel, you could listen to him talk for hours, which led your mind down that deep dark hole of what he sounded like during more carnal acts, he’d be a talker, for definite, what with all that confidence and swagger. “‘Kay… I’ll see you soon.”
Shaking your head you centred yourself, it had been a dry patch for you. You needed to calm down and not throw yourself at your brother’s partner, even if he just so happened to be the first man you had any interest in to show you attention in months.
“He’s on his way,” He confirmed what you already knew but you liked hearing him speak so you nodded in thanks. An awkward silence filled the air for a few moments, as you two perfect strangers shared one another’s company.
“Drink?” He offered pointing at the bottle of whiskey on the counter.
“God, yes.” You all but moaned at the offer. Javier chuckled, and grabbed a second glass from his cupboard, before pouring you both a generous serving. He walked around the back of the sofa, and passed you the glass of liquid gold and took a seat next to you. Close enough to initiate something, but not touching, quite a respectful distance.
Initiate something? God Y/N, get your mind out of the gutter. This poor man had only invited you in because you were his partner’s sister and he was doing the decent thing.
“Uh… The television work?” You ask, pointing at the empty screen.
“I didn’t realise you could speak Spanish…” His voice was dripping with sarcasm, mocking your earlier attempts at the language, though he reached across and switched the box on with the remote, he began flicking through the channels so quickly he almost gave you a headache.
“Oh yes, I’m very proficient, I just didn’t want to intimidate you earlier. Hola Señor Javier.” You say continuing his ruse. He chuckles at your words, it’s a deep warm noise that shakes his entire frame. You were definitely thinking about adding Javier’s voice to your top ten list of favourite sounds.
He flicks through the channels, for a few seconds before sighing and dropping the remote in your lap. Taking your assignment seriously, you sit up, bringing yourself a few inches closer to the man next to you, purely accidentally of course and begin flicking through the channels as Javier had done moments before, though 3am TV scheduling left a lot to be desired.
News, News, Colombian QVC, News, News, Soap opera. Bingo!
“Ah, now we’re talking.” You mumble, eyes stuck on the screen of the Colombian Soap opera playing. The two of you sat in silence once again as you slowly sipped on your drinks watching drama play out.
You watched in silence for around ten minutes, not understanding a single word of what was being said. The scene was on two latino actors sitting in a bedroom. The woman was sat on the bed being confronted by the man in a serious tone.
“What is she saying?” You question narrowing your eyes at the beautiful woman’s tone. Javier, who had been watching your reactions the whole time as you got into the awful tv show scrambled as he tried to listen and translate the woman’s words.
“Uh… her dads an alcoholic and she’s trying to support her son… that guy didn’t know about the son… I think… she was happy living a double life without the worry and she wants him to forgive her and start over…” Javier translated, giving you the general cliff notes.
“Oh shit,” You gasped at his words, but your attention diverted to the screen where the two had continued their heated argument and began kissing or rather where the man was devouring her neck, “I’m getting vibes that he might be open to forgiving her.”
You chuckled at your own joke, as did Javier. Though this time when his body shook his bare elbow touched your own.
How was he so goddamn warm?
All he was wearing was a black button down shirt. One that looked to be the wrong size it was so tightly fitted- not that you were complaining about the view. My God, were you horny today.
You took a gulp of your drink, trying to refocus for the third or fourth time this evening, trying so desperately to reign in your inner school girl and focus on the television, though that didn’t help as the actors were now eating one anothers faces on a bed. The silence was thick with tension, though that could’ve been entirely on you; one innocent touch of a man’s elbow and you’re a blushing mess.
Get a grip Y/N.
The silence dragged on as you pretended to watch the soap opera you had absolutely no understanding of in a futile attempt to ignore the man next to you. You can only imagine what he thought of your levels of focus on the tv, as you stared at the box in the corner of the room like it was the greatest cinematic masterpiece of all time and you were getting ready to write a full-scale analysis on the work of art.
Javier broke the tension in the room by finally asking the question that had been on his lips all evening.
“You came all the way to Colombia… Why?” Javier grabbed a cigarette off of the coffee table, placing his drink where the carton of smokes had been. He lit the stick and waited for your response, honestly, you were thrown. The question had come out of nowhere whilst you were still trying to analyse why exactly this man had such an effect on you when he was doing nothing but being a good host. You hastened to think up a half coherent reply before you just answered truthfully.
“Steve stopped answering the phone, I mean he’s always been shitty at checking in, even when he was in Miami. When he got here we’d have a catch up every week or so, we all know how dangerous it is for you guys over here, so we joked about calling it ‘the alive check’. For the last couple of months, I was checking in with Connie more than Steve but he’d still pick up once every week, without fail. Then four weeks ago the fucker stopped answering my calls all together and Connie showed up on my doorstep with Olivia in tow last week.”
“Look, you coming down here probably makes more problems than it solves, Steve’s a big boy if he doesn’t call to check in, it’s probably ‘cause he’s busy… He’s-” Something about Javier’s dismissive tone rubbed you the wrong way, call it sleep deprivation or blame the weeks of stress, but you were tired of being called paranoid. You were not an overbearing mother hen.
“My brother always answers my calls. Or at least he used to. I can’t begin to understand what you guys are going through, but I’m not losing my brother to some piece of shit Colombian drug dealer.”
Javier raised his hands in mock surrender, cigarette still in mouth. “He’s actually more of a drug lord slash narcoterrorist, but-”
“How is he?” You interrupt Javier’s attempt at diffusing the situation with humor, turning to him on the sofa. You rearranged yourself, bringing your leg up so your knee touched his thigh as you gave him your full attention, you plucked the smoke from between his lips and held it between your two fingers as you spoke. “Tell me Steve’s fine. Tell me I’m worrying for nothing and I’ll get back on that plane and leave tomorrow morning.“
You take one drag and offer it back to him, he accepts it, deliberately looking you in the eyes as he places the cigarette in his mouth, attaching his lips to where your own had been seconds earlier. He takes it from his mouth and stubs it on an ash tray that rests on the arm of the sofa, his focus is single minded on his task. The pressure in your lower stomach is mounting as you stare at the tanned man before you who is carrying out a menial task that has you more turned on than you’d ever admit.
When the red tip is extinguished thoroughly, taking much longer than you thought it needed to, Javi turns to you, his mahogany eyes have you pinned in your tracks. You found yourself admitting they were gorgeous for the second time this evening, they were the type of brown you could never quite describe, they had so much depth, not quite a chocolate, not quite coffee, they were rich and deep pools. They reminded you of the forest, not the green leaves but the earthy brown, the strong beams of wood that held everything up around it.
Javier’s hand emigrated forward slowly, your eyes followed the movement in your peripheral but you didn’t dare look away from the pools of molasses as he reached to grip one hand at your denim thigh, his eyes roamed your face for any sign of this being an unwelcome approach and when he found none his other hand began its climb to rest on your jaw, just below your ear.
You couldn’t say if you moved towards him or if he advanced on you, all you knew was he was on you now as the tips of your noses rubbed against one another.
“Quiero saborearte…” He whispered so lowly you barely even heard it before he leaned in that last inch and captured your lips in a single, chaste kiss. Your lips connected and you realised the heat you had felt from his arms had been nothing. Fire coursed through your veins upon contact, surging through your blood and going south to a pressure that built in your lower stomach.
Your hand shot up to land on his collarbone, before you could even really consider your own actions you pulled apart until your foreheads were the only thing touching. He was intoxicating, you could lose yourself completely in this man, he somehow smelt like cinnamon, whiskey and sweat, a combination you’d never thought would send liquid fire through your central nervous system. You’d give anything to taste him properly, but this was wrong. So so wrong. This was your brother’s partner, this was inviting complication to your door, when you were just here to check on Steve. You were here for Steve.
You were here for Steve…
“… This isn’t a good idea.” You all but whisper, closing your eyes. Regret pulses through your veins at your self imposed restraint.
“Never is.” He leaned forward and captured your lips. You didn’t have any fight left in you, exhausted and at wits end you embraced your spiral into stupidity instead and your hands glided across the clammy skin of his neck to grab at his short ink black hair. You wrapped your fingers around it to drag him closer to you, your lips clashed, all teeth at first but you didn’t care as his tongue began to fight against yours for dominance.
He tasted as good as you imagined, he was the right combination of sweet and bitter, with undertones of whiskey and tobacco on his tongue. Your response to his assault on your mouth told him it was go time, Javier pulled you into his lap and his hands lowered to your ass. Your body was flush with his own as your breasts pressed against his chest, you could feel every solid line of his lithe body against your own.
You licked at his honied tongue, before withdrawing and pulling his bottom lip into your mouth and sucking on the soft plush skin. His mustache tickled your upper lip, a sensation you weren’t used to but could so easily grow to love. This made him tighten his grip on your backside in response and he let out a throaty groan at the meat he found there, Javier was definitely an ass man, you felt his bulge pressing against your core as you both began grinding against each other in earnest. You felt like a horny teenager as you grinded on a man you barely knew.
You felt him grip at the bottom of your tank top and begin to lift it, except he stopped, and began to rub patterns on the stomach he exposed. Javier’s mouth descended from your lips to begin to suck and lick at your throat. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head at his work as pleasure rippled throat your body. His hands slid the length of your body to grab at your chest, which conforming to every stereotype was heaving, he palmed your breast blindly as his face was still buried in your hair, sucking and kissing along to your ear, before he raised his mouth a mere inch and whispered “Te follaré toda la noche niña.”
He said it with such surety that your body convulsed in on itself without even needing to know what the man above you was saying. You could only hope it was absolutely filthy and profanity ridden, because then at least, the sentiment would be shared. He bit at the lobe of your ear before his hands left your breasts and travelled to the hem of your tank top, getting ready to pull it over your head.
It was strange to say that you remembered your brother was on his way here as a man tried to take your t-shirt off, but that’s just the way it went. You knew if that top came off, dry humping would be the most PG action of the night and if Steve turned up and found you mounted on his partner, he probably wouldn’t be too thrilled.
You couldn’t stop yourself from stroking the man’s hair whose face was planted in between your tits as his hips rose against your own pushing his hardened length up against the seams of your jeans, you gasped as he hit that sweet spot. You let out a noise that sounded like a wail. You wanted nothing more than to lie back and let this man have his filthy way with your body. And you know, from the hour you’ve spent with this man it would be phenomenally filthy. The kind of sex that would ruin all men for you, but no. You had to be a good sister. Like a fuckin loser.
Sighing, you threw your body sideways before you could change your mind and ended up on your back. Javier followed you, caging you with his frame as he covered your body with his own. Gripping your face like he was a starving man and you were the only sustenance he’d ever need. It would be so easy to get lost in him, to give in to that magic tongue but you couldn’t let this go any further so you placed a hand on his chest.
Taking your cue he paused his tongues assault on your mouth and stopped, resting his forehead against your own. You were both breathing heavily trying to come back down to reality, his eyes were no longer the chocolate brown you’d been comforted by when you met, but rings of obsidian staring into your soul. You wanted this man, my god you did. But this would make more problems for Steve.
The two of you stayed that way for a while, foreheads and bodies pressed against one another until both of your breathing evened out. The silence dragged, heavy in the air as you two strangers both waited for the other to break it.
“…Is Steve okay?”
“…No… He’s been fuckin’ mess ever since Connie left.” Javier sighed whilst closing his eyes and breathing deep. You raised your hands from his chest, which was difficult as he was crushing his body to yours and cupped his cheek, you joined your lips once more, much like the first kiss. This was sweet and there wasn’t a carnal appetite behind it but rather an understanding.
The loud knock on the front door startles you both as you’d been so wrapped up in one another you’d not heard the steps leading to it. The two of you split apart like a pair of guilty teens caught in the act. You both stared at each other for a second before he nods at you and walks to the front door whilst rearranging his bulge discreetly in his jeans, this was something you pretended not to see as you sat back up right on the sofa. You had only a moment to fix yourself, as you pulled your tank top from where it was hooked by your breasts and ran your fingers through your hair so you didn’t look like you’ve just had the ravaging of a lifetime.
Javier pulled open the door and you clutch your hands into your lap, not quite sure what kind of reception you were about to receive from your brother. You hear the two men greet one another in hushed whispers, you couldn’t make out Steve’s voice much until you hear his voice clear as day “…what the hell was so important it couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”
You stand from your spot on the sofa and quickly realise the button on your jeans is undone; if you’re honest you don’t even know how he managed to do that without you noticing, even though it’s not the time you take a solitary second to commend Javier on his artistry of disrobing a woman. Turning quickly you pull the rivet back through the hole and swing around as Steve crosses the threshold from the hallway.
Steve looks from you, to Javier and then back to you once more in complete surprise. It takes his brain a hot second to process that you’re here in front of him and in Colombia before he rushes you. Clutching you tight and hugging you to his chest. You hear something that sounds suspiciously like a sob leave your brothers chest before he collapses into you. The front door and Javier’s bedroom both in rapid succession, giving you the privacy you knew your brother would need after breaking down like this.
You couldn’t support Steve’s weight with your considerably smaller frame and the two of you fell to the ground as you held your broken brother. His body shook with silent sobs as he buried his face in your shoulder.
You said nothing as you held him and stroked his hair. In that moment you thanked your every instinct that screamed at you to come to Colombia.
This had definitely not been a mistake.
84 notes
·
View notes
Text
Prompt for the kiss no. 71
Prompt: "Not to be cringe or anything, but I really like the idea of the kiss 71 (height difference kisses where one person has to bend down, and the other is on their tippy-toes)...where Trevor is his true height. i.e. Ogg's height and Michael has to stand on his tiptoes to snog him."
I'm sorry, anon, but I saved the post as a draft and it just vanished into thin connection. So, I have to answer this way.
This work is more of a spur of the moment thing, but I kinda like the way it turned out, being it just my emotions spilt onto paper. If you'd like, you can read it on AO3 here, or under read more. I hope you'll like it as much as I enjoyed writing it! :)
tw: kissing, child abuse memories
It's been three weeks already.
An unhealthy greenish glow of flickering light tubes and the icy breath of an industrial refrigerator made him shiver as Michael, gliding on the orbit touching stars in his mind, put yet another box of ready-made microwave hamburgers into his shopping cart. If he were not a regular in this particular shop, he would have got lost. It resembled an anthill with seemingly infinite shelves and aisles, bursting with the merchandise, even though the depressed lights covered everything in the same shade of decay green. The same life outlook was shared with most of the shadows roaming around whose name tags qualified them as proud employees of Flormart.
It's been three weeks, and he still stuck around, hanging on his every word.
Michael pushed his cart further from frozen goods, and the pictures swirling and smearing all around transitioned from photoshopped vegetables to flashy fireworks of chips and other guilty pleasures he planned on indulging in later on. Some people would find the height of the shelves menacing, but to Michael, it was just a memory that pulled him from the orbit back to earth and placed him in the middle of a football pitch. The smell of sweat building up underneath his helmet. The crunch of the crisp lawn under his feet. The spotlight following him whenever he scored. Cheering faceless crowds in time with busty faceless girls' pompoms. But most of all, he felt happy again - needed, cherished, innocent, and with a bright future awaiting his embrace. But then, just as he crossed from the snacks aisle to the alcohol quarter, the football stadium lights flickered and turned bright red. All the faceless girls turned around, their mouths gaping as if someone dislocated their jaws, and the cheering turned into a hellish cry of pain. Where their eyes were supposed to be, he saw a flair, screwing itself deeper into their skull, and a stream of scarlet goo drip down on their immaculate white dresses.
It's been three weeks, and somehow, his puppy-like behaviour didn't irk him yet. Quite the opposite if he were honest with himself - he felt strangely peaceful in his company.
Michael gulped in a desperate attempt to wash down the horror that invited itself under cover of a happy memory. Shaking his head only did so much and dispersed the spectators and cheerleaders alike, in the same way shaking a snowy paperweight would. Michael's chest constricted as he felt unable to breathe in properly, people splatting and exploding upon impact all around him in his mind. Suddenly, he felt a pull under both of his shoulders and found himself flying towards the pitch-black sky, where instead of one moon, two shone down on him. As he flew closer, they shrunk into two amber irises - and Michael immediately knew who pulled him out of the memory. As he crashed into a mass of pink candy cotton clouds, his vision blurred just to clear up when he felt a solid surface under his feet and someones hot hands in his. Somehow, he found himself looking at the tips of abused old pair of sneakers he was wearing, the same pair Michael knew he wore that faithful day at the airstrip. A moment later, a couple of dark blue, equally run-down ones stepped into his field of vision. He slowly let his sight slide up on crumpled jeans, the hem of a military jacket, a pair of dog tags hanging around a slender neck, a sharp jaw, a pair of full dark lips and finally, to the pair of amber eyes, eyes that radiated worry, care and, at the same time, something he could only read as love and utmost devotion.
It's been three weeks since the incident, and anytime he woke up from a nightmare that played in his mind over and over again, he was there to soothe him; he was there waiting for Michael's tears to dampen his naked shoulder. He didn't bitch about it and didn't tell a soul in the morning.
Michael let out a shaky breath. Stopping his feet from casually continuing in their stroll proved harder than he thought, and he leaned on the shopping cart handle, running fingers through his hair. He couldn't decide what mortified him more - the creativity his brain proved to possess when playing out the horrible things he has witnessed in just a few years of his fresh adulthood, or the way it put his acquaintance on some fucking pedestal and presented him as the alpha and omega of his thoughts and desires.
"Hey Michael, are you ok?"
Speaking of the devil... "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I just.." Michael breathed in again and turned towards the source of the voice, trying to display a small smile by twitching his tired lips "I need a smoke, that's all."
It's been three weeks, and he got that tingling feeling in his guts already. He could barely tolerate touch or prolonged eye contact without getting goosebumps and that ticklish feeling solidifying and slicing right into his groin. Michael wanted to believe it was just his weird head showing gratitude for saving his ass, but anytime he found himself in the company of that amber-eyed twink, the longing grew worse.
"Hey, how about a bottle of something to wash the cig down?" said the guy and his oversized jeans jacket hanging from his shoulders cringed into weird shapes as he took one of his hands out of his pocket and pointed his thumb towards the shelves. He looked so adorably dishevelled in all jeans, and with his silky hair framing his hopeful face, Michael couldn't have said no to anything he would suggest. Instead of mustering the strength to say no, Michael threw another smile towards his companion and turned his back to him to choose the dream crusher he wanted to numb them with before they went to bed.
To someone who grew up in a functional family, all the labels and bottle shapes would seem the same. To Michael, however, to choose the right brand and size meant the same as selecting the bananas or avocados of the proper ripeness would for them. It was a work of art; he learned so much in the ten years of living with his stepfather. While scrutinizing the shelves, index finger and thumb scrubbing on the sides of his chin absent-mindedly, he remembered how they would come to the similar shop together, he and his mother's second husband, and how he slipped behind the shelves. At the same time, Frank chatted with the clerk, and he stuffed his lunch box with a large flat bottle of Chief's Heritage Fire Water whiskey. He had to carefully close it to avoid disturbing the aluminium foil that served as a guard from the primitive electronic protection device they had to pass through on their way out. Michael would then tuck his stepfather's sleeve, babble some cute nonsense to get candy from the unsuspicious clerk, and after they paid for the two packs of cigarettes and a beer, they would leave. Frank would let him chug on whiskey then, and if he were in an exceptionally good mood, he would let him sleep through the night without beating the shit out of him.
Finally, spotting the whiskey he knew so well on one of the top shelves, Michael attempted to grasp it but only managed to graze his fingertips against the bottom of one of the bottles that rocked gently upon touch but otherwise didn't move an inch. "Fuck", he uttered under his breath, cracked his neck and stretched onto the tips of his toes, steadying himself by holding onto one of the lower shelves. But, again, he could only touch the bottle but not get a good hold of it. He even contemplated climbing the shelves to get it, as if the shame of his disappointing height haven't already painted his cheeks bright red and didn't make him want to leave the shop right away. Just as he braced himself for the climb, eyes fixed on that damn bottle, a gentle touch of someone's hand squeezing his shoulder made him turn around. It was Trevor's hand, and even though Michael still had to look up to meet his eyes, the small sympathetic smile put him in ease in a blink of an eye.
"Chief's, huh? Good choice, Mike!" the praise in his voice made Michael shiver, and he desperately tried to ignore the warmth he was receiving through the palm still steady on his shoulder and which upset his heart into beating twice as fast as ever before. "My old man used to drink this. It tastes like cat piss but knocks you out good for the buck." Trevor's grin felt like a warm touch sunrise after countless years of freezing darkness. Michael couldn't help but soak in the warmth, allowing himself to lose himself in the feeling completely. "Let me get it for you, eh?" he heard Trevor say from somewhere near, and before he could object, most of the light was obstructed by a jeans-clad chest.
It was then when Michael closed his eyes and tried to get hold of the situation. Trevor, the guy he only knew for three weeks, pushing Michael's back onto the shelves as he leaned for the bottle but also pushing his chest almost to Michael's. If it weren't for a couple of inches of hot air and fabric between them, their bodies would brush against each other. Michael could only gulp when he opened his eyes again, and his mind provided him with the maddening picture of Trevor's naked lean chest, peppered with dark brown hair as if puberty marked its way down towards his groin with it. Michael's head was spinning when he looked up to see Trevor still busy fetching the bottle. Michael's racing imagination saw him grabbing the guy's head, crashing lips with his and dissolving into what he thought would be the best kiss he would ever receive. Michael gulped again. He had to have him.
He was anxious about the way it was too easy to raise both his hands and grab fists full of other man's jacket as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Michael didn't fight it when he felt his muscles pull on the fabric and only turned his gaze up to where he expected Trevor's eyes to look once he would feel the movement of his clothes. Michael didn't have to wait for it at all, actually; the puzzled expression was already waiting for him to drink it up. However, he couldn't maintain the contact for too long as his eyes focused on something completely different; the dark lips, deliciously parted in the unspoken question. The distance between his own and them unnerved him, and in the sparking silence, Michael again propped himself onto the tips of his toes, pressed harder on the fabric to steady himself and, closing eyes, pressed his lips to Trevor's.
For a delicious moment, the world fell apart as if some invisible force made the dimensions crash down. The trembling soft firmness against his lips sent shivers down his spine with each cautious move. Whenever Michael recalled the moment years later, he could always sense the faint smell of cigarettes, petrol and sun mixing between their bodies and the way the ground shook and cried under his feet when he felt Trevor's palms slide down his sides and pull him closer, effectively sweeping him off his feet.
Trevor seemed to be relishing at the moment as much as Michael was, but when he felt solid ground under his feet again, and the pair of arms letting go of him, Michael reluctantly broke the kiss with a coquettish wet pop and tried to catch his lost breath. Then, leaning against the shelves again, he only dared to peek up when his cheeks stopped burning from what felt like a mixture of acid and a marathon run. Trevor's face might as well have been a mirror, for he looked down on Michael with eyes wide, face red and lips wet and trembling as if he didn't get a grasp of reality yet. Michael couldn't help but let the anxiety scream right to his face in the voice of his stepfather - and there were thousands of things he might have ruined then and there, just because he didn't fight his stupid queer side, because he let himself kiss another man, because by the twisted chain of mistakes he fell from what could have been a good life to longing after a rabid smuggler in the middle of a liquor aisle.
Just as he was about to duck under Trevor's arm and run away from the voice and feelings of shame it brought about, he was stopped by a gentle, almost shy touch of a hot palm on his cheek. The slender fingers brushed against his face in such a delicate way Michael's heart skipped a beat, and closing his eyes, he leaned into the touch, seeking the soothing silence it brought with the warmth. The hand fit his cheek like a glove, Michael mused as he relaxed into slow movements of fingertips on his temples. Right there, at that moment, everything felt so right, so natural. Why has he deprived himself of the delicious heat for three weeks when somewhere deep inside, where the beating of his heart always gave away the truth, he knew he needed it from the start - well, Michael didn't know. Instead, he slid his arms around Trevor's waist and buried his face into his chest.
"Michael?"
The vibrating echo of his name, spoken in such a husky yet caring way, made Michael squeeze his arms around Trevor even tighter. He sought the last bits and pieces of it before he dared to speak up himself, afraid of spoiling the delicious contentment of the moment.
"Let's get out of here."
A gentle kiss on top of his head and long arms lacing his shoulders later, Michael found himself too far from Trevor for comfort. But even with the newly gained distance between them, a quick glance sideways has provided him with a sight of a beaming smile and a fire deep inside Trevor's eyes that made his own lips twitch into a happy upwards bow. As they rolled into the checkout, Michael has noticed the world has changed as well. The depressing shade of green has somehow transitioned into a welcoming warm white; the shadows that they passed by on their way in suddenly bloomed into happy faces. The various packings of goods exploded in all the colours of the rainbow. As Michael and Trevor emerged into the darkness of the parking lot, ready to relive their revelation in thousands of ways, Michael has felt at peace with himself for the first time in forever. The days of the inner night were over.
31 notes
·
View notes
Text
Too Hot
Firefighter Mark X CEO Reader
Word Count: 7.2k (HAHAHAHAHA so much for a drabble I always get carried away when it comes to Mark)
Genre: Fluff, Smut and a tiny bit of angst
Warnings: Intended for readers 18+, oral (both male and female receiving), degradation, cunninglus, dry humping, thigh riding, choking, fingering, hand job, face fucking, face riding
Summary: The chief of your local fire department pays you your monthly visit to your company in order to do your hazard safety check. While the two begin to argue, neither of you realize that you are the only two left in the building. When you come to the conclusion that something is wrong, you and Mark decide to leave the building. However, because of how stubborn your are and not wanting to follow Mark’s direction of taking the stairs, you choose to take the elevator and to your surprise, he ends un joining you. Unfortunately, the elevator comes to a complete stop causing you to go in a frenzy. He tries his best to comfort you, but in those moments as he held you and tried to calm you down, he ends up confessing his feelings for you and the two of you end up having hot, steamy and extremely passionate elevator sex.
A/N: I’ve been wanting to write about firefighter Mark for the longest time (I think he’d be an amazing firefighter and if I’m remembering correctly, he stated in an interview that he always wanted to be a firefighter ugh firefighter Mark gives me UnHoLy ThOuGhTs I hope you enjoy anon!
“Ms.Y/n, the chief of the fire department is here for our monthly safety assessment. Should I send him in?”
You released a frustrated sigh before nodding in agreement and quietly thanking your receptionist. After she had left your office, you returned back to your computer and continued to work on the presentation for the meeting you had with some of your clients.
Being the CEO of one the most prestigious fashion companies in the country was a lot to handle sometimes, especially because you were only twenty-three years old and your job consisted of many responsibilities. However, you would never trade your job for anything else in the world. You weren’t upset with having to work on the proposal. No, you were upset with the thought of Mark Tuan being back at your company.
Not only was he the chief of your district’s fire department, but he was the biggest pain in your ass. Every single time he’d come in to do his rounds of making sure your business was running smoothly and that the environment was safe enough for you and your employees to be working in, he never failed to do and say things that you were more than certain he knew would push your buttons. It’s as if he pointed out the tiniest mistakes to make you look unprofessional and that you weren’t taking care of your company.
It started off with simple things such as how you had so many plugs on one extension chord which was bad for both the electricity bill and for the power chord. Apparently it could “cause a fire” and he would have to ding you on that small mistake. Then came the comment about how you hardly had enough fire extinguishers throughout the facility and claimed that you would regret it one day if a fire were to break out. He also found it stupid that the nearest fire alarm was in the back of the refrigerator and felt that it made no sense to have one if it was practically in hiding. You hated how involved he was in the choices you made and how you ran your company.
All he had to do was check the damn place and rate you for it. He didn’t have to ridicule almost every single one of your decisions. You also hated that you thought extremely handsome and that you’ve daydreamed about him fucking you in the back of his fire truck or up against one of the poles in the firehouse. It didn’t help that he would flirt with you every so often but you had always thought he would make certain vulgar comments in order to piss you off. Unfortunately, it would only make things harder for you. Every time he bit his bottom lip in frustration when you would make a nasty remark towards him, you could only imagine how his teeth would feel nipping and sucking against the juncture your neck, on your thighs and your clit.
You have always thought he had the prettiest lips and you wanted nothing more than to feel them against yours. He had quite the naughty mouth, you could only hope that one day he would put it to good use and bring you to the brink of insanity with that tongue of his. When you heard the not so soft pound on the door, you grunted before yelling for him to come in.
“Well hello to you too. You’re obviously happy to see me.” You scoffed and rolled your eyes in irritation. He was wearing his firefighter uniform and it took every bone in your body to keep your mouth shut to prevent yourself from drooling at the sight. Everybody knew that most fire fighters were in great shape. It was required for them to work out at least five times a week in order to be able to run, climb up a ladder and carry up to sixty pounds if the situation called for it. Seeing how Mark’s biceps were close to ripping his shirt and the way his slacks hugged his thick thighs and ridiculously nice shaped ass made the tingling sensation between your legs grow even more painful the longer he was in your presence.
“It’s always a pleasure Tuan. Now hurry up and begin your assessment you ass wipe. I’m extremely busy and the last thing I need is for you to make up some dumb reason for not passing me this month.”
He gave you his signature smirk before walking towards your desk. “The reasons why I don’t pass you aren’t stupid y/n. You have a lot of fire hazards in this room alone. What more this entire facility? As chief of the fire department, it is my duty to make sure that everything is running smoothly here when it comes to anything that has to deal with fire safety.”
You scoffed in disbelief. “Oh really? Well I’ve asked some of your colleagues come here to inspect the place and not one of them seem to think that my company is “hazardous” as you so claim it to be. If anything, both Jaebum and BamBam say it’s one of the safest work environments that they’ve ever had to check up on. Admit it, you just enjoy doing things to make me mad. It’s like you get off at the thought of me breaking the rules and getting in trouble for not taking precaution and going through the measures of “saving electricity” and other random shit like that. You’re an actual work of art Mark Tuan.”
This earned you a spine tingling glare but you didn’t bat an eye at his gaze. If anything, it turned you on even more. “Whatever y/n. You can go ahead and continue thinking I’m out to get you when really I just care about your safety and the well-being of your employees. I’ll take my leave now and I’ll be out of your hair in no time.”
You didn’t think your words had an effect on him in any way, but when you saw the way his shoulders slumped and how his whole playful demeanor changed in to a strict and cold one, you couldn’t help but feel bad. A few minutes after he left your office, your conscience and the guilt was eating away at you and you couldn’t help but want to go outside, find Mark and apologize for being so brash. He was just doing his job and although you might not agree with the way he did things, he was the fireman and he obviously knew more about fire safety than you did. However, right as you were about to walk out of your office, Mark was making his way back inside.
“I was just about to come looking for you. Is something wrong?” His brows furrowed and he leaned up against the door.
“Did you send all your employees home or something? Nobodies here.” You looked at him in disbelief as if he grew another head. What did he mean nobody was there? Where could they all have gone? You had a total of 150 employees working for your company and at least 25 that worked on your floor. Did something happen that they had to evacuate the building and if so, why didn’t they come and notify you? You followed Mark in to the hallway and you felt a weird feeling build up in your stomach at the sight of the empty workroom.
“I didn’t hear a fire alarm go off, did you?” He shook his head in disagreement and began to head to the stairs.
“Maybe it’s best for us to leave just in case something did happen.” You looked at him and frowned.
“You have another thing coming for you if you think I’m going to be walking down 20 flights of stairs Mark Tuan. I’m taking the elevator. You have fun.” This earned you a sarcastic chuckle.
“You can’t be serious right? If the building is on fire, or there is something going on right now that we’re not aware of, then we obviously have to take the stairs. Now is not the time to disagree with me y/n. Who the fuck takes an elevator in a situation like this? God gave you beauty but you lack brains. Why am I not surprised?”
You were sure your cheeks were now red as a rose from both his compliment and your frustration. Deep down, you knew he was right, but neither of you could just assume something bad was going on. For all you knew, maybe they were on a different floor working on a project together. Wouldn’t at least one of your employees run in to your office if the building was on fire?
“Suit yourself fire boy. I’m taking the elevator. Have fun going down all those stairs.” You made your way in to the elevator and right as it was about to close, Mark let out a frustrated sigh and joined you.
“What do you think you’re doing? You said so yourself, taking an elevator is a dumb decision. You’re worried about me aren’t you?”
He chided you. “No. I just didn’t want to take the stairs. You’re not the only one with a strenuous job you know. I put out fires for a living. If there’s another way to get down to the lobby rather than walking down all those flights of stairs, I’m not going to waste my energy if I don’t have to.”
As much as he was getting on your nerves, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy being in such a tight and enclosed space with him. Unfortunately, as the two of you started to descend downwards, the elevator stopped. Your heart rate began to increase as your stomach sank and your nerves built up.
“Mark, what’s going on?” He made his way towards the buttons and began pressing on all of the safety bells and the button to call in case of an emergency.
“I told you we should’ve took the stairs, you never listen to me, now look at us. We’re stuck in here. If only you put your pride away and your hate for me to the side for once then maybe we wouldn’t be in this situation—hey. Y/n why are you crying? Shit—shit shit no please don’t. Fuck, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean that I’m just frustrated. Please stop crying.”
He pulled you in to his embrace and ran his fingers through your hair while softly rubbing on your back in attempts to get your cries to simmer down. After a few moments, your cries finally stopped but he continued to hold you in his arms while whispering comforting words against your neck. You were in so much shock that you failed to realize this was the first time you and Mark have ever been civil with one another. His arms felt so good wrapped around your waist and you loved the way it felt to rest your head on his chest. You could feel his heartbeat against your cheek and it was beating at such a rapid pace. You knew that yours was practically doing the same thing, but his was probably reacting to the nerves from the situation while yours was caused by how close your bodies were to one another.
To your dismay, he pulled away from you but only so that he could attempt to call 911. When Mark began to dial the operator, you could feel your chest getting tight at the thought of being in such an enclosed space. You’ve always suffered from claustrophobia and it didn’t help that you were currently locked in with a man who you thought hated your entire existence.
“Hi, yes the elevator shut down. No I’m in here with someone else. Yeah. Okay. We’re fine. Thirty minutes? Seriously? I understand. Thank you.” Once he got off the phone, he released an exhausted sigh and kicked the wall out of frustration. “Hey, you okay? You’re hyperventilating. Y/n—“ you didn’t even notice you were practically heaving at this point but you couldn’t help but feel as if the walls were closing in.
“I—claustrophobia—can’t breathe—scared of tight spaces—I need to get out of here.” When Mark took a look at you and saw you huddling in a fetal position, he felt his heart sink. You’ve always held your head up high and had such a powerful presence. He’s never seen you so frail and weak before and he hated the sight of it. He quickly made his way towards you and sat on the ground while bringing you on top of his lap and rocking you back and forth in the hopes of calming you down. To both your surprises, he left a kiss on your forehead and placed his chin on your shoulder.
“We’ll be out of here in no time okay? You’ll be fine. I’m here y/n. I’m going to take good care of you okay? Just relax.” The skin ship made you feel at ease and to be quite honest, Mark’s arms were the safest place you’ve ever been so far. He had a tight grip on you, as if he was afraid of losing you and you found yourself wrapping your arms around his neck and placing your head against the crook of it in order to be as close to him as possible.
“I’m sorry. This is all my fault. You probably hate being stuck in here with me and I’m sure you had other things to do. I should’ve listened to you. I’m sorry for always being such a bitch when you only have the best in mind for me. I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t here. Thank you. I really appreciate how patient you’re being with me and for all that you do to make sure my company is safe. You’re an amazing person Mark and an equally amazing chief.”
With the way you were looking at him with a glimmer in your eyes, Mark felt as if his heart was about to combust. God your lips looked so kissable and although you were sweating from the lack of air in the elevator, you were a sight for sore eyes. Mark has always thought you were breathtakingly beautiful and with the way you would act so brash towards him turned him on even more. He loved how much of an independent woman you were.
To Mark’s delight, the white blouse you were wearing just so happened to be see through and unbeknownst to you, your whole chest area was practically soaking and it was causing a problem in Mark’s pants. The tight and extremely short skirt you were currently wearing didn’t do much help either and since you were sitting on his cock, he couldn’t help but get turned on even more. Once you felt something hard pressed up against your ass, you were quick to get aroused at the sensation. Before you knew it, you found yourself turning around and bringing your hand down to his hard on. You made eye contact with him and began to palm him through his slacks earning yourself the most sexiest and breathy moan you’ve ever heard.
“You know, for someone who hates me, you seem pretty excited to be alone with me.” He growled when you pulled your hand away and roughly yanked you on to his lap and began grinding you against his thigh.
“I never hated you. If I’m being honest, I’ve always had feelings for you but I never did anything about it because you make it obvious that you hate me. If I hated you, I wouldn’t have a fucking painful ass boner right now because of you, would I?” You giggled before finally giving him what he wanted. As you unzipped his pants, you couldn’t help but bite your bottom lip at the way he was looking at you so seductively.
“I like you a lot y/n. It’s actually embarrassing to admit just how much I like you. It might be even more than that, who knows? All I know is that I find my mind wandering to you even if I only see you once a month. I always look forward to the day I get to see you again and having you now—I can’t—I can’t believe this is happening right now.”
You brought your hand up to his face and cupped his cheek softly. “I like you too Mark. You piss me off and cause my blood pressure to rise, but I think you’re wonderful and extremely fucking sexy nonetheless.”
“Wait y/n, before we go any further, I need to do something.” Right as you were going to ask him what he meant, his lips were on yours. The kiss the rough. All the months of built up anger and so called hatred for one another on top of the lust and need for each other was being released in to the kiss. His hands made their way down to your ass and he squeezed all but gently before slapping both cheeks. It was painful, but extremely pleasurable and you could feel your core tightening at the way he was treating you so animalistic. His lips continuously attacked yours and he licked your bottom lip asking for entrance. The feeling of his tongue against yours was indescribable.
Every time you’ve witnessed him licking his lips before, you’d find yourself wanting to know how they would feel against your core, licking and slurping up all your juices. He pulled away in order to leave chaste kisses along your jaw and your neck and you took this time to finally relieve him of his constraints.
“Fuck y/n, I’ve always dreamt about the day I’d get to kiss these pretty pink lips of yours. You’re so fucking beautiful you know that? God, I can’t fathom in to words how much of an amazing person I think you are. Your lips are so addicting baby. I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of kissing you. However, as much fun as I’m having, I really need to fuck you. Like right now.”
His words went straight to your core and you didn’t need to feel yourself to know you were soaking wet. The two of you were dry humping each other, it wasn’t going to take long for the tingling sensation between your thighs to get set on fire. Once you freed him from his boxers, he let out a sigh of relief and as soon as you began to run your thumb against his slit and brought some of his pre cum in to your mouth, his eyes rolled back at how good it all felt. Your mouth practically watered at the size of him. He was huge and it was expected. He had a huge ego and he sure made up for it. You couldn’t help but want to tease him.
You’ve been wanting to be in this situation from the day he walked in to your life, you weren’t going to go easy on him. As good as it felt having your dainty little fingers drag along the side of his cock, it was driving him crazy. He was about to complain about how slow you were going but buried his face in to your chest once you finally began to pump him. “Fuck y/n, just like that. Faster—please go faster—ah fuck-“ Since you were in control, you decided to mess around with him and practically changed the pace every five seconds.
You’d pump him at a very fast pace only to slow it down and tease him at an agonizing and leisurely pace. He brought his fingers up to your cheek and turned your face so that you were making direct eye contact with him.
“Keep teasing me baby and see where that gets you.” His raspy voice while he threatened you sent heat directly to your core. Your next few words didn’t surprise you and it caused Mark to groan in pleasure.
“Why don’t you fuck this dirty mouth of mine then huh? I’ve been wanting to suck you off for as long as I can remember. You’ve been doing a great job of taking care of me while we’re in here now it’s my turn to take care of you.” You motioned for him to stand and he didn’t hesitate to get up off the ground and lean up against the wall. You crawled over towards him and wrapped your fingers around him before spitting against his painful looking erection in order to lubricate it.
You pumped him for a few seconds and ran your thumb along his veins causing a few breathy moans to fall from his pretty lips. You kissed the tip before circling your tongue around it. The grunt that left his lips the longer you toyed around with him made you giggle but you knew he was having a hard time watching you simply tease him while his cock was aching for you to do more.
“Y/n, fuck baby. Please stop teasing me. Your tongue feels so fucking good. Do something, anything. Suck me off already damnit—f—fuck. Mmmmmm—“ as much as you loved hearing Mark beg for you to do something, anything to help soothe the pain of his hardened cock, you couldn’t wait to have him shoved down your throat. You wrapped your fingers around the base of his cock and took as much of him in to your mouth as you possibly could.
Since you felt as if he had enough of your teasing, you began to bob your head up and down along his shaft at a quick and steady pace. When you looked up at him and saw his head tilt back while he was quietly moaning and cursing under his breath got you to go harder. Seeing him writhing at your fingertips was such a mind blowing feeling. For all those months that he made snide comments about your work ethic, to the times where he nonchalantly called you pretty, you couldn’t believe that here you were with his long and thick member hitting the back of your throat. He brought his hands down to your hair and gently gripped it while guiding you back and forth. Your hands made their way down to his balls and you began to fondle them while grazing your teeth along the side of his dick.
“Shit, shit—you’re taking my cock so well baby. Do you think I could face fuck you y/n? I know you can handle it princess. Let me fuck that potty mouth of yours.” As Mark looked down at you and saw you smirk up at him so innocently while nodding in agreement, he could feel himself getting closer and closer to his end. There was no way you were real. How could someone look so adorable doing something so naughty, so dirty. Mark didn’t know how you felt, but after tonight he knew he needed to have you many more times.
Before you allowed Mark to take control and face fuck you, you decided to show some more love you his balls and brought one in your mouth, licking, nipping and sucking on it while fondling with the other one. He brought his thumb right below your cheekbone and began grazing it softly.
“You’re so beautiful y/n. So so pretty. Fuck, that feels so good—your mouth—ah fuck your mouth—“ you pulled away with a loud pop because you grew curious to hear what he was trying to say.
“What about my mouth baby? Tell me how good it feels.” He looked at you with so much lust in his eyes before pulling your hair and shoving you back to his cock. Once you wrapped your lips back around him, he lowered his hands to the back of your head and began to thrust himself in your mouth. You wrapped your hands around his thighs and allowed him to set the pace. It was obvious that he was getting you back for teasing him earlier because now, he was showing your mouth no mercy. He was ramming himself inside the wet and warm walls of your mouth like his life depended on it.
“Your mouth feels amazing. It’s like you were made to suck my dick y/n. Your mouth is so tight and so warm. I’m sure your pretty little cunt feels just as good and I can’t wait to be balls deep inside of you. Look at you, you dirty little slut. My cock looks so good down this pretty little throat. How does it feel for you? Do you enjoy being face fucked by me y/n? All those dirty little fantasies of yours are coming true huh?” You moaned against him at the sound of his lewd comments and the vibrations went straight to his length. You knew he was closed by the way he was tensing up around you and you took his reactions as a sign to go faster.
“Fuck y/n, you’re actually going to be the death of me you know that? I’m going to cum—“ you beamed up at him and continued your ministrations. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—“ before you knew it, he was releasing his load in to your mouth and you milked him for all he was worth. His warm, creamy liquid felt good going down as your swallowed him up entirely.
“Holy shit y/n, if I knew you’d give me the suck of my life I would’ve gotten us in this situation earlier. You did so well my baby girl. Ugh, I can’t wait to be inside of you. But first, I can’t help but be a little curious.” As you were about to ask him what he meant, his fingers made their way up in to your skirt and he dragged them against your panties. “You’re soaking wet y/n. All because you sucked me off? I can’t wait to see how your cunt will take me. You’re practically an ocean y/n. Are you even real?”
You giggled against his chest and pulled him down in order to steal a chaste kiss from the corner of his lips. “I can’t believe you’re only wearing panties under this skirt. It’s like you want to be punished.” He sat back down and pulled you on to his lap so that your back was against his chest and your ass was pressed up against his crotch. He wrapped one of his arms around your waist as his free hand made it’s way down to your core.
To your dismay, he began to touch you everywhere but where you needed him the most. His fingers began to trace patterns along the inside of your thighs and all you could do was lean your head back against his chest and bite down on your lip to prevent yourself from begging. You knew he wanted to get back at you from teasing him earlier but unlike Mark, you were never one to give in to easily.
“Mark—“ he hummed against your cheek in curiosity.
“Yes baby? Use your words.” You began to wiggle around and rub your ass against his cock before guiding his hand to your entrance.
“We don’t have enough time for you to tease me. They could open the doors now for all you know and people will walk in on us looking like this.” He snickered before finally giving you what you want.
“Don’t lie y/n, the idea of someone walking in here and seeing me fuck your brains out excites you doesn’t it? I’m sure exhibitionism is probably a kink of yours because fuck, the idea of service men walking in on us fucking is driving me crazy.” He pulled down your underwear and dragged his finger back and forth along your slit earning himself a few moans. He slipped in one finger and you found yourself humming gently in contentment. “Shit y/n, you’re so tight.”
He added another finger inside and as much as you didn’t want to be vocal about how it felt in fear of someone actually being outside of the elevator doors and listening to you sing for Mark, you couldn’t help but release a cry from pleasure. Mark began to finger you roughly and he played with your swollen nub to rile you up some more. As you watched him shove his digits back and forth in to your wet folds, you brought your head back and placed it against his chest.
“Mmmmm, so good Mark. Your fingers feel so good. Please go faster.” He giggled and to your dismay, he pulled away completely. “Mark—“ he stole a sweet kiss from your lips before bringing his two fingers in to his mouth and sucking it clean of your essence. The sight made you practically drool.
“You taste amazing princess. Mind if I get a taste straight from the source?” You were quick you nod your head in agreement causing Mark’s laugh to fill up the tiny space at how eager you were to have him go down on you. He took a few moments to decide how he’d go about eating you out and told you to place your legs on both side of his shoulders. He gripped at your ass before bringing his face up against your heat. You placed your hands up against the walls and couldn’t help but grind yourself along his tongue.
He placed a chaste kiss against your clit and playfully brought it in between his teeth before licking and sucking on it. His mouth was warm against your pussy and the slurping sounds that he made as he began to lick and delve his tongue in between your folds was such a overwhelming feeling. He brought his fingers up to your clit and shoved both of them inside, roughly pumping them in to your cunt while eating you out like a man starved. The feeling of him moaning and humming against your core caused the coil in your stomach to tighten the longer you continued to ride his face.
“You look so pretty riding my face, I can’t wait to see you look bouncing against my cock. Are you almost there y/n?” You nodded, your face full of both exhaustion yet desire.
“I’m close—so close. Your fingers and your tongue are fucking me so well. Mmm—just like that—I’m coming Mark.” You saw white once you released yourself in to his mouth and he lapped up all of your juices while leaving soft kisses all around your pussy. When he was done, he pulled you off of him and stood up.
“You taste so good. I could eat you out for hours but now—I really need to be inside of you. We’ll test how long it takes for you to get numb from me eating you out another time okay? I love being in between these luscious this of yours. These would be the perfect kind of earmuffs to wear back at the firehouse—ow y/n what was that for?”
You playfully shoved his shoulder and began to take your top off but he stopped you. “As much as I want nothing more than to have your beautiful tits on display and watch them bounce as I drill myself in to you, I don’t want anyone else but me seeing you like this. But know this y/n, I plan on having you many times, in multiple ways once we get out of here. Well, if you allow me to. I want nothing more than to have you like this as much as I can. You drive me crazy baby.”
The idea of having sex with Mark again sent chills to your spine. He had yet to penetrate you yet you knew you already wanted more. Not only did your body craved him, but your mind and heart did too.
“Ah shit, I don’t have a condom.” He groaned in disappointment but you brought your lips up to his ear and sucked on the skin right below it.
“I’m on the pill if that works for you.” The growl that came from the back of his throat answered your question and you found yourself being shoved up against the wall. The idea of getting to fuck you raw and releasing his seed inside of you sent shivers down Mark’s spine. His head was practically spinning. He began to attack your neck with soft, gentle kissing while caressing the skin right about your hip bone.
After showing love to the juncture of your neck for a few moments, Mark decided he could no longer take the foreplay no matter how much he loved making his mark on you. Your skin was soft under his touch and everything about that moment was making him impatient. He needed to be inside of you. He brought his cock up to your entrance and dragged it along your folds causing the both of you to moan in unison at the sensation. He connected your lips together and kissed you roughly before bringing himself inside of you.
You weren’t one to have sex so often, so the feeling of him inside of you was uncomfortable. Especially because of the size of his girth. The stretch was foreign to you, but you knew he was trying his best to take your mind off of the pain with the way he was molding his lips against yours. However, the feeling of him stretching you out caused the both of you to sigh in contentment.
“Holy shit y/n, you feel so good. So warm. So tight. Are you okay? Does it hurt?” You shook your head and placed a chaste kiss on his jaw.
“I’m fine. You can move Mark. I’m sure it’s driving you crazy having to stay still. I want it—need it too. I trust you.” Once he heard you allow him permission to move, he took no time picking up the pace and thrusted in to you like a jackhammer. His grip on your hips was rough and he hoisted you up so that he could wrap your legs around his waist and fill you up deeper. The feeling of the tip of his cock hitting your cervix while his balls rammed against your abdomen sent your eyes rolling to the back of your head. He lowered his hands to your ass and began to knead gently while he continued bottoming in and out of you. You were practically bouncing on him at this point and it only made you want more if it was even possible.
The sound of skin on skin slapping echoed throughout the enclosed space and you could feel both his sweat and your sweat building up causing the atmosphere to get hotter than it already was. His kisses that started off slow and sensual, were now sloppy and wet as he continued his movements ramming himself inside of you and filling up your cunt to the hilt. Breathy moans and constant cries of pleasure fell from both of your lips and it felt as if your whole body was on fire.
“You’re going to be the death of me y/n. You know that? Fuck—this is all too much for me.” You looked down at him in admiration and ran your fingers through his hair as he increased both the speed and the force against your core. To your confusion, the handsome man in front of you let out a soft giggle out of no where and you brought your fingers down to his chin and lifted it up to make eye contact with him.
“What’s so funny?” He stole a quick kiss from you before speaking up.
“You’re so fucking hot y/n. I think it’s my duty as chief fire fighter to put your fire out with my hose and leave you soaking wet.” The sarcastic groan of disgust that fell from your lips caused him to laugh even more.
“Seriously Mark? That was terrible. I literally got dry by the sound of that.” He frowned against your cheek before grumbling.
“I thought it was good. Whatever. You’re boring.” You snickered at his now shifted mood and began to suck on his jaw.
“And you’re bad with timing but you’re also very cute so I’ll let this one slide. Fuck me now, save the pick up lines for later.” He brought his hand down to your pussy and began to flick and play with your clit while continuing his thrusts and you were sure you could come right there by how intense it all felt. As corny as his pickup line was, he had a point. Your body felt like it was on fire and Mark was the only one who could put it out. His began to draw circles against your clit with his thumb and only quickened his pace when moans started falling from your lips.
“M—Mark.” He was about to ask you what you wanted but you reached for his hand and brought it up to your neck. You were well aware that his fingers were magical. They felt so good dragging along your skin and buried deep inside of you. You craved to feel it wrapped around your neck, cutting off some of your air supply. His breath hitched when he came to the realization that you wanted him to choke you and he didn’t hesitate to gently take hold on your neck. He connected your lips together and your tongues began to roughly clash against each other. To your dismay, he pulled his fingers away from your cunt but before he allowed you to complain from the loss, his hand made it’s way in to your blouse and brought it in to your bra.
He took one of your breasts in his hand and began to massage it gently while bringing your nipple in between his fingers and twisting at your nub. You could feel your second orgasm building quite quickly at how good this all felt. His erotic grunts, breathy groans and animalistic growls against your lips made it well aware to you that he was on the brink of insanity just as much as you were.
“Tell me you’re close. Please tell me you’re close. I won’t last much longer.” It was true. Your slick, velvety walls were milking him for all that he had. The feeling of you clenching around him the longer he continued to play with your breasts and squeeze your pressure points with his fingers made him practically see stars. All too soon, you felt yourself being filled up entirely with his warm and creamy liquid and the sensation caused you to follow him not too long afterwards. He began to pant against your chest and buried his head between your clothed breasts. As the two of you were slowly coming down from your highs, both of your rapid breaths simmered down after a few moments however, he stayed inside of you for a while and you made it known how much you loved the feeling of him staying inside of you.
He pulled away from your breasts and looked at you adoringly before reconnecting your lips together. “You’re one hell of a woman y/n. I can’t get over how marvelous you are. That was—wow—I don’t even have the words to describe just how mind blowing that all was. As much as I love the feeling of being inside of you, I think it’s best if we get cleaned up here before they open up the doors and see our fucked out states. You look really fucking lethal after sex by the way. So fucking sexy.”
He brought you from off of his waist and pulled himself out of your cunt causing you to whine. He reached for your panties and your skirt and helped you in to them before reaching for his clothing. Once the two of you were decent, he brought some hair that fell in the front of your face and placed it behind your ear. Mark made his way back to the ground and reached out at your waist in order to pull you on to his thigh. You straddled his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck while resting your head against his chest. The sound of how quick his heart was racing never failed to bring a smile to your face.
You left soft kisses against his neck and beamed up at him while he dragged his fingers along your thigh. “I’m head over heels for you princess. If you didn’t already, now you know. You’re mine y/n.” He nibbled softly on your earlobe before reaching out to play with your fingers. The two of you sat in silence but it was a peaceful kind of silence that spoke volumes. Although you hated being in such a tight and compact area, being wrapped in Mark’s embrace as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear made your heart flutter. Just being with him made you take your mind off of the not so ideal situation you both were in. For the time being, the two of you began get to learn a little more about each other and you were upset with yourself for letting your negative feelings for Mark get in the way of getting to know him as a person and not the asshole fire captain you painted him out to be.
Less than fifteen minutes later, a bell sounded off in the elevator and before you knew it, the doors were being opened. There were a few fire fighters and a couple of police officers that were standing outside and they all looked relieved to see that the two of you were just fine. Mark abruptly stood up and reached for your hand while intertwining your fingers together.
“Captain are you alright? Apparently there was a fire in the cafeteria that caused the circuit shortage—y’all fucked didn’t you? It wreaks of sex in here—ow!” Mark playfully slapped the back of his subordinate’s head before guiding you away from everybody.
“I’m calling it a day BamBam. Make sure everyone got out safely and check all the floors to make sure that no one else is stuck in here.” BamBam wiggled his brows and sent him a cheeky wink, having an idea of what Mark had planned for the rest of the afternoon. The chief fireman brought you back to your office in order for you to gather your things and he helped you carry your things as he led you towards the stairs.
“You know y/n, I don’t mind coming to do your hazard safety check more often if it means ending it in hours of steamy and extremely passionate sex. I’ve pictured taking you up against your desk on multiple occasions while looking at the beautiful view and I’m not talking about the cityscape my love.” Heat rushed to your cheeks at what he was implying. He playfully smacked your ass before bringing your hand up to his lips and placing a chaste kiss behind it.
“Shall we take this back to my place? I can make us some dinner, we can put on a movie and then I’ll blow your back out till the sun rises. How does that sound?” You hummed in excitement at his offer.
“As long as you don’t kill the mood with your cheesy pick up lines babe. That was embarrassing.”
He scoffed and stopped his movement all together. “But I had a good one about you sliding down my pole—baby wait! Okay fine I’ll stop! Get back here y/n! Just wait till I get my hands on you, I have no intentions of letting go.”
#got7 imagines#got7#got7 smut#mark tuan#got7 mark#got7 fluff#got7 scenarios#got7 drabbles#mark tuan fluff#mark tuan smut
188 notes
·
View notes
Note
I am writing in response to your answer - I am aware a reader might drift etc. I should clarify that I would rather have a review from a reader whose initial response is a genuine liking for the story even if it is an update soon or love it comment. I am not disrespecting polite reviews left in return, I appreciate the gesture but its just not my preference. I also don't mind in general these brief reviews so many fics get like some OC creators have a problem with. I like to create but I don't
2 - hold readers hostage for feedback. I find extremely distressing that creators find the lack of feedback etc is damaging to the extent it affects mental health; that creators get trolled over using same face-claims or similar names; that I can't express an opinion without being able to come off anon because it doesn't fit the status quo.
3 - I admire Kass's work and all she does to try and break open the bars that is the OC community. I am glad to see she is taking a stance on those who just use her and she's tough loving it. I love all her different ideas and enterprises to include creators but I just feel conflicted on the reviewing one. I feel isolated more due to other creators than readers not giving me kudos etc, its just a social climbing scene now and nobody wants to know you unless you are in the elite. I don't want to
4 - i dont want to guilt-5rip readers into reviewing liking, reblogfing etc my content. I am happy if people like it and want to meet other creators who like to create for the love of it. I am not the anons harassing Kass at this time and I don't harass in general. I know people want feedback but its not the be-all and slamming people for writing a simple update soon or similar isn't right. We are not entitled to feedback the same as the reader isnt entitled to demand from us whenever they want
Okay, but it was your choice to go on anon. You can express an opinion off anon and my response would be the same. I find there’s a lack of accountability behind an anon grey face but hey, you do you.
I can understand you wanting reviews from “genuine” readers. Shit, don’t we all? Regardless, your comments to Kass came across as somewhat passive aggressive, as does this.
“I don’t mind these brief reviews so many fics get like some OC creators have a problem with” alright it really sounds like you’re trying to say they’re wrong to be irritated with reviews saying simply “update soon”, which is super ironic considering initially, you were saying you “feared” readers coming to review as an obligation. Which is the exact same as those who comment with “update soon”? You’re not making much sense here lmao.
It doesn’t have to be a social climbing scene? If you find people you click with, reach out and chat with them. Really, hiding behind anon is doing you no favours. If you actually attempted to make genuine connections with other writers, I think you’d find it’s more than just “social climbing”.
No we aren’t “entitled” to feedback, but as people who write fanfic content for free who often received pushy reviews/messages simply telling us to update, asking when an update is instead of appreciating the content we’ve put out there, it can get tiring. Again, your views seem to be a bit all over the place considering your earlier message to Kass about reviews.
You’re always welcome to message people off anon about these things. I respect it a lot more than a grey face telling me I’m wrong to want feedback on things I create and share.
3 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hey its that same volley anon again. I'm using this time to, I guess, reflect on my life? It's the first time in 16 years, and I'm kinda overwhelmed. My childhood home is being sold, I don't have pictures or a good enough memory to remember how it used to look like. And I decided to start a journal, but I look at the year 2020 on the page and I panic because 2 decades have passed and I remember only half of it. I feel like everything is slipping away down a drain.
I’m sorry that you’re feeling this way, anon. This stuff is really hard.
Feeling uprooted can be deeply unsettling and make it harder to form or access coherent memories and when that’s combined with a major change it can feel very dissociative and disconnecting, when what you’re seeking is grounding.
I’m not a therapist, obviously, so this is just some advice like I’d give to a pal in the pub - there’s nothing wrong with seeking counselling or therapy to cope with changes like these, in fact, there’s a lot good about doing it but I completely understand it can be hard to access any services, let alone appropriate ones. And y’know, friends in the pub also help even if you can.
So, with that in mind. Things feel more overwhelming when we don’t have a narrative to process them and make sense of them through and this is particularly true of the way humans understand our memories. Things feel jumbled to the point of distress when we can’t order them and we lose access to being able to understand things; I forgot a whole chunk of my childhood for most of my life because I didn’t understand the memories.
You’ve had a shock, with the volley thing, which has uprooted the narrative you’d had about your life. Disrupted, the vector through which you had understood things is now much less clear as a future plot line but that doesn’t mean that you can’t use it to understand the past, when it is less painful to think about. At the moment, that’s probably adding to the jumble and making the past seem much more confusing and uncertain than it will probably seem in the future, when you have narratives established again.
That’s not a failure or something wrong with you, that’s just how our dumb human brains work. It’s why in times of stress and distress we can make very weird choices sometimes, disconnected from the systems we’d normally use to weigh things up.
Although it’s currently distressing to not be able to access those memories, forcing them won’t make them come and may make the present more uncomfortable and detached-seeming.
It seems like you feel directionless and uninspired currently, which is natural after receiving life-changing news like this. What can help is literally just letting yourself be interested in some things - whether that’s immersing yourself in the racing this weekend or anything else.
Here’s some stuff I literally just find interesting, that you might not be familiar with:
Atlas Obscura is lots of interesting stories from around the world about everything from obscure festivals to street furniture and you can go for a wander through it for hours
BLDGBLOG is again, eclectic and talks a lot about the the theory of architecture and spaces; it might be a bit too close to (literally, although this isn’t intended as a pun) home in terms of your memories but Geoff Manaugh writes really engagingly and I’ve loved it for years as something just totally different from most of the internet
Deep Baltic is long reads about the Baltic states, which are well-researched and just interesting
I recently enjoyed this profile of boundary-breaking Kazakh DJ Nazira
It’s really hard to find things that aren’t cancelled on YouTube these days but I like Seth Everman he is funny and although she doesn’t make videos anymore Sailor J is great, also I like Todd in the Shadows music reviews.
Journalling and shit is great and all but if you’re at a stage where you don’t know what to write, it can be just really jarring and distressing. So don’t feel like you need to force yourself - sometimes just getting a bit of curiosity can help things feel meaningful or more grounded even if it’s like wow what the hell is Latvian breakfast (a thing I have just realised I don’t know and am going to look up because hey, why not) or like why’s this dude got a giant statue of Bowser.
If any of my followers read down this far, maybe you guys could leave like Things You Find Interesting For Whatever Reason in the replies?
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Lines Were Blurred
Frank Castle (Punisher) One-Shot from prompt idea
A/N: I received an Anon request for Frank from an unbelievably patient Anon with the following prompts from “100 Dialogue Prompts to Break a Reader’s Heart”: 42. “I’ve spent all this time wondering and worrying about you. You didn’t think of me once?”, 83. “You never get what you want. Haven’t you learnt that by now?”, and 86. “I should never have trusted you.”. Because it worked SO well with the reader paring from “Your Side of the Line”, I decided to make this into the Part 2 of that.
Following your captain’s odd but simple assignment, you were more than a little stunned to find Frank Castle at the site.
Warning: Swear words and a bit of angst. No spoilers though
NOTE: If you want to be on a Frank (or everything) tag list, let me know :)
A dead body. It was definitely the body of a large, dead man crumpled in a heap at the bottom of the stairs that led to the warehouse's side entrance.
Shit.
Drawing your sidearm, you ignored the rush of adrenaline as you leaned into your shoulder mic.
“I wouldn't do that if I were you,” a gruff voice interrupted from behind you.
Spinning on your heel, you raised your gun, levelling it at the chest of the man standing there. His hands were already up, palms facing you.
“Shh, shh, shhh, hey...Y/n, it's me.”
Frank fucking Castle.
Of course.
It was supposed to be a simple shift. Odd, but simple.
But, the second your captain sent you on your own to canvass a neighbourhood near where a child had gone missing, a quiet red flag started waving in the back of your mind. The assignment was innocent enough - basic door-to-door duty. But alone? You assumed each unit was being split up to cover as much ground as the precinct could in a short amount of time. But it was still odd.
When you arrived at your section, another red flag rose. It wasn't even a residential area.
As you got out of your squad car, there was something so thick about the air that your curiosity shifted to concern. You couldn't explain it, but something was wrong. Finding the body was almost a relief. If nothing else, your gut feeling was still trustworthy.
Finding Frank there, however...
Keeping your eyes on him, you nodded to the body behind you. “Was that your handiwork?”
“Yes, it was. And there were two more stationed in the back.” There was no hint of shame in his tone as he firmly stated the fact.
“Dammit, Frank, I never should have trusted you. I asked you not to put me-”
Everything inside of you froze as his words repeated in your mind. Stationed. Stationed in the location you were sent to.
"Why...why would you say stationed?”
Eyeing your gun for a moment, Frank slowly relaxed his hands. “Because it isn't just Homeland involved. Turns out they needed local allies on the ground.”
Glancing to the side, it didn't take long to process his implication. Your captain was involved. The red flags from that assignment weren't the first to be raised in your mind – he was a bit of a hothead and sometimes his judgment felt rash. But this?
Swallowing heavily, the strength seemed to drain from your arms as you lowered your weapon. “No. No, that can't be right. It doesn't make sense.”
Narrowing his eyes, Frank tilted his head to look past your shoulder at the body on the ground. “Is that right? I'm not sure how else you explain why you were sent, alone, to an abandoned warehouse where there were three hired guns waiting for you.”
A sinking feeling pulled at your gut, the truth settling in well before you were ready to accept it. “What makes you think they were hired? How do I know they weren't just a group of homeless people taking shelter here or something?”
Sighing, Frank raked his fingers through his short hair. His jacket opened slightly as he lifted his arm and you could see the bulletproof vest strapped to his chest. You didn't miss the blood splatter. "They knew how to handle themselves. I'm willing to bet that if you ran their names, you’d see they're former military and worked with a few security companies in the city. It fits the profile of the mercs Homeland trusts to do its dirty work on home soil."
And they were there for you.
“Even if I believed that, it still doesn't explain why they're here.”
After running his hand down his face, and pausing long enough to rub his fingers against his eyelids, he dropped his arms in a shrug. “My guess is they either know you won't play ball...or they think you know something.”
“And what do they think I know, Frank?” The sick feeling that crawled up your throat quickly turned into a little, angry flame. Even though you knew the answer, you couldn't stop yourself from asking.
“Me...I'm guessing. Our connection wasn't exactly a secret.”
The little flame exploded into a hot, roaring fire that raced through your chest.
“Goddammit, Frank!” Roughly, you slammed your gun back into its holster before you thought about using it.
Dropping his gaze, the muscles in his cheek rolled as he clenched his jaw but stayed quiet.
“Are you fucking kidding me? Since you left my apartment that day, I've spent all this time wondering and worrying about you. You didn't even think of me once? You didn't stop to think that this crusade of yours might lead back to my doorstep? Especially once they realize it's you?”
His nostrils flared as his eyes snapped back to yours. “Didn't think of you, huh? What the hell do you think I'm doing here then? It's not my fault your boss is crooked, but you can bet your ass I've been watching you ever since I figured it out.”
Balling your hands into tight fists, you felt your knuckles popping from the pressure. Your words were forced through grit teeth. “I don't want to be a part of this. I just want to go to work, do my job, and go home again.”
Softly scoffing, he rolled his eyes. “Yeah well, you never get what you want. Haven't you learnt that by now?”
“Fuck you, Frank.”
He stared at you as his eyebrows shot up. “Fuck me? Fu-”
Letting out a hard huff, he gave his head a sharp shake. “Fine. Yeah, sure, fuck me then. Fuck me. But if you don't get your head out of your ass, you're going to get yourself killed or worse.”
You couldn't help your glare as you pushed back your NYPD jacket to plant your hands on your hips. “Oh, worse?”
Frank's eyes softened as he watched you, the brief show of anger quickly melting away. “These men might not have been sent to kill you. If they do realize I’m the one coming for them, they might be here to try and find out what you know about me. And if that's the case...death would be a welcomed relief.”
Your moment of anger also died away as the gravity of your situation hit. Dropping your hands, you crossed your arms over your chest, like you could hide the sudden shift. Hesitantly, you glanced over your shoulder. “So...so what am I supposed to do then?”
Pulling something out from his jacket pocket, he reached his hand towards you, nodding to take it. It was a handful of nails and screws. As you stared at the random assortment of sharp objects, your eyebrows tightly pulled together.
The softness of Frank's expression extended to his deep voice as he explained. "You go back up the street, three blocks from here. That's the start of the security camera blackout zone they set up. You get out, throw this under your tire and roll over them until you get a flat."
Slowly, you raised your gaze until you were staring at him with confusion. As his dark eyes bore into yours, you realized he had closed the gap and the faint smell of leather drifted over to you. The scent was like a stab to your chest as you realized just how much you missed it.
"Blackout zone? How do yo-"
“Don't ask me how I know, just trust me. You can't call this in. I'll take care of these guys, but your captain can't know you made it this far. All he can know is you got a flat up the street and never had the chance to canvass this area, got it?”
If they did suspect you had information on Frank, this would at least buy you some time.
A calm fell over you like a blanket as you pocketed the handful of nails. Frank was right – it wasn't his fault your captain was dirty. Your captain, and likely several of your colleagues, made a choice and it's one he knew you would never make. Even if Frank wasn't involved, you'd still be in a bad situation, only you would be completely oblivious.
“And then what am I supposed to do?”
Frank's eyebrows relaxed as you all but agreed to do as he told you. “Take whatever vacation time you have left – a relative out of state died or something. If you won't actually leave town, then you need to at least lie low at Curtis'. You'll be safe there.”
Of course Curtis would be involved.
“And before you get back, put in for a transfer to a different precinct. You won't be safe here until this is done. I'd suggest Brett Mahoney's station.”
That name was familiar. “He's...pretty far outside of my territory though. I don't know that-”
“Then move in with Curtis, he's right nearby. Hell, tell them you’re deeply in love and use the move as your reason for transferring,” he said sharply, cutting you off.
Pursing your lips together, you nodded. It wasn't the time for doubt. The numb blanket hardened around you – it was the time for following what appeared to be a decent plan.
“Got it?”
Nodding again, you offered a small, half-smile. As he returned it with a hollow, lopsided grin, you were suddenly aware again of how close you were. Something inside screamed out to lean into him, to hold him, to let your lips find his. Forcing that back, you set your hand on his arm and gave a gentle squeeze.
The lines were blurred, but you didn't need to make it worse.
“Thanks.”
Grunting quietly, he shuffled his heavy boots in the gravel as he moved out of your way.
It was supposed to be a simple shift.
Taglist: @foreverfaeries @flower-two @getlostinyourparadise @selfishkiddo @angelicshinigami @kingccbsblog @natsukitakama @kchavez666 @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @cattpaws @mysteryoflovve @castleadixon
74 notes
·
View notes
Note
Be careful about having high expectations for Gen Lock. The series is created by Rooster Teeth Productions, who tend be to hit and miss. They created great series like Camp Camp, but they also created RWBY, which has a rep for having terrible writing in the later seasons. Characters are unlikable or Mary Sues; the plot is poorly structured and it made a lot of questionable choices. At this point, it could be either or. Only time will tell if it's the next Camp Camp or RWBY.
and
“I would be careful about having high expectations for Gen Lock if I were you. Gen Lock is created by Roaster Teeth Productions, who are also the creators of RWBY. That series went down hill after the 3rd season. Granted some of it had to do with the creator dying, but the writing dipped in quality. After watching the first and second ep, it reminds me a lot of VLD, including the humour. Reviewers said it didn’t dive into character motivation or any of the world building by the 5 ep point.”
Hi Anon, thank you for the Asks!
Given the wording of both of these, I assume they are both from you.
I’m going to try to reign in my salt here, but you happened to hit more than a few buttons with your Ask. Gonna keep this as brief as I can to focus on the core of my answer. I promise I’m not grumpy.
The opening sentence in both of these Asks does not come across well. I can give the benefit of the doubt b/c this is the Internet, but uh…yeah.
RWBY continues to enjoy great popularity and comes up frequently on my dash. I’ve never seen it, it’s definitely not my thing, but it’s still selling to someone, and my VLD mutuals that love it are still talking it up so I’m glad that they have another show to entertain them. I see merch everywhere, it’s got a Japanese dub and a manga adaptation and that’s pretty damn good for a web cartoon that came out of the U.S. Must not be that terrible as whole to merit all of that.
“Mary Sue” is a phrase that means absolutely nothing because everyone overuses it to mean any number of things about competent and powerful female characters, and most of them are incredibly subjective, and rarely ever applied to male characters who meet the same kinds of subjective goal-post shifting criteria.
Perhaps gen:LOCK will simply be the “first gen:LOCK” and not the “next anything.”
I didn’t find the humor in gen:LOCK to be like VLD at all.
Reviewers can eat my asshole.
And on that note:
Not every story benefits from a deep dive, or even a superficial exploration of character motivation or world-building.
Such things are very genre and plot dependent, and the perception of such is subjective.
Some of the greatest short stories, or even long-form novels don’t even bother with much of either if they are not necessary to advance the plot. Not everything needs to be Lord of the Rings or Ulysses.
Who had better “character motivation”, Frodo Baggins from the LotR trilogy or Ripely from Alien? What would “better” even mean for either of those genres? LotR and Alien are worlds apart, and yet, at the end of the day, the protagonists are fighting for survival against an unspeakable horror. The “journey” of their survival differs greatly, and those journeys are the point, the character motivations are really minimal and don’t require a lot of exploration.
Frodo’s character motivation can be summed up as: “save the fucking Shire by destroying a cursed evil ring” and a little bit of “Uncle Bilbo ruined me for the simple Hobbit life with his crazy stories.” While Ripley’s motivation is: “kill the xenomorphs before they kill me and my cat.” That’s it. Don’t even need in-character exposition or a flashback to describe Ripley’s. The genre hands it to you on a blood-soaked silver platter.
I don’t know what those reviewers were watching but the “character motivation” of the main characters that I saw in the pilot episode alone was pretty fucking obvious: HOLD THE LINE in a dystopian world were “freedom” hangs by a thread. They are trying to survive. That’s all it needs to be.
I don’t care why they joined the Vanguard. I have plenty of friends and family within various armed forces and their motivations range from complex to simple, but most of them are a variation on “I want to serve my country and my people.” That’s it, and that’s okay.
Additionally, Julian Chase’s backstory and motivation was made clear in the first 10 minutes through the positioning of him before the wall with his dead father’s memorial flag, and the conversation between the three most important people in his life: mother, sister, and fellow comrade-soldier/girlfriend (Miranda, great symbolism by the way in that name).
That pilot episode is Julian’s “super hero/science fiction origin story”. His Big Damn Hero moment is fueled by his “character motivation” to protect his loved ones, and inspired by the verses from his dead hero father’s favorite song: “Let the Good Times Roll.”
Any hyper-critical reviewer that missed that is full of shit.
And those verses?
“You only live once / But when you’re dead you’re gone / So let the good times roll”
That was clever and poignant foreshadowing, b/c GENRE. It also wasn’t super deep…and it didn’t have to be. It only needed to connect the threads of Julian’s introduction, who he is, something special that he shares with his mother, father, and girlfriend, and what his role will be in the show, and the nature of his being from here on out.
At the bare minimum, someone in the writers’ room is aware (even if only in passing) of the some of the most enduring questions that science-fiction (especially cyberpunk) has asked and navel-gazed over regarding the role of technology in extending human life, and what exactly defines “life” when one has left the meat-space. I’m not expecting gen:LOCK to be an exploration into the ethics and details of transhumanism/post-humanism/singularity philosophies and futurist dreams for humanity. It doesn’t have to be. They’ve already touched on the concepts and anyone who loves that sort of thing will notice.
My expectations for gen:LOCK are that—at worst—it will be as entertaining and to-the-point as the GI Joe cartoon in the 80s. I enjoyed GI Joe (pro-military propaganda aside), it was a regular thing for me to make the effort to watch. I didn’t love it like I did The Adventures of the Galaxy Rangers, or Robotech, or Voltron DotU, or Silverhawks, or Jem and the Holograms, but it was still fun and entertaining and it still is.
GI Joe didn’t waste time with a full exploration of Cobra Commander’s backstory or his motivations, nor did it do so with most of the Joes. The basics were all that was needed. GI Joe wasn’t about complexity and it didn’t need to be in order to tell an entertaining story while selling toys. Yes, sometimes you’d get some really interesting episodes that added dimension in between the more obvious filler. Shit, it took like 50+ episodes to get to a Destro-focused episode. I certainly wasn’t watching GI Joe for character motivations and world-building. I was watching because nearly every character had an interesting design and they all did unique things, and Cobra Commander was hilarious. I watched to see what they would come up with next.
Did I really need a compelling story behind Zartan, Zandar, and Zarana? Nope. They were fun villains that gave the heroes hell and spoke with shitty Australian accents. In the 80s, the Aussie accent was all the rage for edgy characters (oh Stingray…).
Do people remember anything about Scarlett other than she was the hot redhead?
I loved Scarlett, she was my She-Ra, and one of the main reasons why I watched GI Joe. But only the most hardcore GI Joe fans remember her stats and abilities. She was actually one of the most highly qualified and skilled Joes. From Scarlett’s Wikipedia article:
“Her primary specialty for the team is counter intelligence. Scarlett is additionally skilled in martial arts and acrobatics. She started training at age 9 with her father and three brothers, who were all instructors, and she earned her first black belt at age 15. Scarlett also graduated summa cum laude, and passed her Bar Exams to practice law, before moving into the military. She graduated from Advanced Infantry Training and Ranger School, and received special education in Covert Ops School, Marine Sniper School, Special Air Service School, and Marine Tae Kwon Do Symposium. Although she is as adept with standard weapons as any of her comrades, her weapon of choice is the XK-1 power crossbow, which fires various bolts with specialized functions. Scarlett is also a qualified expert with the M-14, M-16, M1911A1 Auto Pistol, M79 grenade launcher, M-3A1, M-700 Remington sniper rifle, MAC-10, throwing stars, garotte and KA-BAR (Combat Knife)”
Wow. Beautiful and striking appearance. High intelligence. Great martial prowess. Top shelf military training.What a goddamned Mary Sue.
So, if you’re still with me Anon, my point is that if gen:LOCK can be a “good enough” futuristic-cyberpunk-ish version of GI Joe that gives me fun and interesting-but-not-complex characters in command of infantry mechs, configurable jets, and a color coordinated team of save-the-day-big-damn-hero-style mecha who fight against a sinister force that has weaponized nanotech and colossal mechas that look like War of the Worlds meets Eldritch Horrors then I’ll be pretty fucking happy with it. The bar ain’t exactly high here.
119 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dear Yuletide Author
Hi! Thank you for writing for me! I’m reconditarmonia here and on AO3 (and have been since LJ days, but my LJ is locked down and I only have a DW to see locked things). I have anon messaging off, but mods should be able to contact me if you have any questions.
The Psychology of Time Travel | Simoun | Sleep No More | The Strange Case of Starship Iris
General likes:
– Relationships that aren’t built on romance or attraction. They can be romantic or sexual as well, but my favorite ships are all ones where it would still be interesting or compelling if the romantic component never materialized.
– Loyalty kink! Trust, affectionate or loving use of titles, gestures of loyalty, replacing one’s situational or ethical judgment with someone else’s, risking oneself (physically or otherwise) for someone else, not doing so on their orders. Can be commander-subordinate or comrades-in-arms.
– Heists, or other stories where there’s a lot of planning and then we see how the plan goes.
– Femslash, complicated or intense relationships between women, and female-centric gen. Women doing “male” stuff (possibly while crossdressing).
– Stories whose emotional climax or resolution isn’t the sex scene, if there is one.
– Uniforms/costumes/clothing.
– Stories, history, and performance. What gets told and how, what doesn’t get told or written down, behavior in a society where everyone’s consuming media and aware of its tropes, how people create their personas and script their own lines.
Smut Likes: clothing, uniforms, sexual tension, breasts, cunnilingus, grinding, informal d/s elements, intensity; stories whose resolution isn’t the sex scene.
General DNW: rape/dubcon, torture, other creative gore; unrequested AUs, including “same setting, different rules” AUs such as soulmates/soulbonds; PWP; food sex; embarrassment; focus on pregnancy; Christmas/Christian themes; focus on unrequested canon or non-canon ships.
—
Fandom: The Psychology of Time Travel
Character(s): None
I just read this novel, and it's so cool! It's so carefully worldbuilt, yet with such amazing potential for unusual character interactions, life stories, and relationships as shaped by time travel as well. I nominated this without characters because I would be delighted to receive fic that focused on worldbuilding, whether through the stories of OCs, or through any of the canon characters. I'm most interested in:
the Conclave and more broadly in social interactions and relationships between multiple characters who are time travelers (rather than a time traveler and their non-time-traveling partner or family)
art that might be created with time travel (like Grace's exhibitions or Angharad's dance; what about novels or other fiction somehow created using time travel?)
the rules and customs of time travel (in-world documents? habits or observances that develop on a mass level beyond people's individual compulsions or visits to significant dates within their own timeline? what fictional stories do time travelers write about time travel?)
interactive fiction?!
but really I'd love to read anything in this fandom.
—
Fandom: Simoun
Character(s): Neviril
This is a perennial request for me and anything (other than, I guess, the slice-of-lifeiest slice-of-life) would make me very happy, but I'm particularly interested in the military side of the canon - how the war changes all the characters and their relationships with one another, how Everything is Beautiful and Then Shit Gets Real but amidst the war-is-hell there’s still the creation of bonds of trust and loyalty and chances to do what’s right (the bits with the Plumbish priestesses, for instance). Every character gets a chance to develop and make choices that are all brave in different ways. I've requested Neviril but would also be interested in fic about Paraietta or Mamiina if that's what you'd prefer. Some prompts:
Post-canon - what happens if Neviril and Aeru make it back to the main world when war is brewing again, but Neviril has no one from the old cohort to lead because they can’t fly anymore? What does she do, or see her role as being - a leader for peace, for war? How does she interact with Paraietta, Rodoreamon, Floef, Vyuraf, or anyone else?
What does she see or learn in the other world?
Magic or time weirdness retcons character deaths or disappearances! Go ahead and bring Mamiina back.
Paraietta and Rodoreamon building a life together and finding purpose in helping the war orphans, but they're also veterans and neither of them is the other's lost love
I love loyalty kink so I'm always up for something like that involving Neviril with the choir, Paraietta and/or Mamiina. But I'm also really interested in other permutations of loyalty, as we see with the Plumbish priestesses' loyalty to their role or ideal over loyalty to their side.
Fandom-specific DNW: Dominuura/Limone.
—
Fandom: Sleep No More
Character(s): Bald Witch
One of my favorite things about Sleep No More was the idea of this world of darkness and magic that’s underlying or intertwined with the social world, rather than in a separate space - I loved seeing the Witches at the ball and, holy shit, Bald Witch pulling off her wig after the ball in her solo ritual thing! (I hadn’t realized it was a wig until that moment.) So -
how does she as a Witch interact with the normal world (Paisley/the hotel/etc.) or deliberately carve out other spaces (like the apothecary shop)? For that matter, I love the apothecary shop and her scene in it so more about that would be awesome.
How did the Witches find each other - before or after they were witches?
Is she immortal, and if so, what's that like for her?
How much does she have a day-to-day life vs. witching all the time?
If you want to ship her with Sexy Witch or Hecate (or both) I'm very up for that as well. Some sexy prompts if you go in that direction -
ritual sex magic to make something happen or share power?
If Bald Witch and Sexy Witch have non-witch personas and sleep together while they’re being normal people, is there still magic?
Sex in one of the play locations - the apothecary, the ballroom, the bar that’s the empty shell of the real bar?
Slow dancing nude, or another inverted version of something in the normal world?
—
Fandom: The Strange Case of Starship Iris
Character(s): Sana Tripathi
One of my new favorite fandoms. I've requested Sana because I'm not interested in every single person in the tag set and so can't request Any, and because I love the core of steel and dangerousness and crew loyalty/protectiveness inside her nice exterior, but I'd also be delighted by fic about Arkady, Brian, or Krejjh. (I like Violet and Park a lot also and would be equally delighted to see them interacting with any of these characters, but wouldn't want fic that was just about them.)
I hope it's not too much of a cop-out to say I just want MORE of these characters.
Heistfic/casefic with extreme competence (either as a team with working together, or as individuals if it's pre-Rumor or they're doing a job for the team on their own - when else might Brian's linguistic skills, Arkady's fighting and hacking, Sana's mechanics, etc. have come up?)
slice-of-life on the Rumor or Iris II
backstory (Sana in the rebellion?!)
things they like or get excited about (the music they like to listen to/sing/play? food? Krejjh introducing Dwarnian customs to their crewmates and how they pick some of those up, or vice versa?)
I especially love loyalty kink and the Sana/Arkady ship, so I'd also be into a story about their history together (any cool places they've been to in space? starting to work together?), or one where they put themselves in danger for each other, or rescue each other, or Sana has to decide how to risk Arkady or use her skills. (I also have specifically sexy prompts for them in my "dear author letters" tag.)
Fandom-specific DNW: Violet/Arkady is cute and I don't mind if it comes up (it is canon, after all) but I'd prefer not to receive fic focused on their romance (or fic which suggests that an Arkady/Sana relationship is inevitably temporary or better-as-friends). I also do not want Sana/Campbell. Brian/Krejjh is an exception to my unrequested ships DNW.
1 note
·
View note
Text
Draco Malfoy Smut Alphabet
As requested by about 5 different anons :)
A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)
Draco tends to have quite intense sex, so afterwards, he makes sure to shower you with praise And Male you drink water. He’ll often run you a deep, hot bath with plenty of bubbles and soothing ointments
B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Draco likes his mouth. He seems to be able to make you squirm with simple kisses and caresses, and his tongue makes you SCREAM
On you, he loves your thighs- they always squeeze his hips and shoulders and head when you’re close
C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)
Draco loves the sight of your face stained with his come. If you’re sucking him off, he’ll pull away at the last moment to spurt all over your face- you make sure to keep your mouth wide open for him
D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Draco likes taking you wherever there’s the possibility you could get caught- empty classrooms, broom cupboards, his father’s study...
E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)
He’s fairly experienced. He knows what to do and how to do it, and is very quick to pick up on your little tics and the things that make you scream
F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)
He loves fucking you into the mattress with you on your belly, hips raised with a few pillows (speed bump position)
G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)
Draco is VERY serious when he fucks you, so often any laughs are saved for afterwards
H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)
His pubic hair is straight and wiry and very well groomed. It’s a bit darker than the hair on his head too
I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)
Draco can be VERY intimate- but he can also fuck you til you scream and see spots
J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)
This lil posh boy has always been taught that a real gentleman doesn’t take himself in hand.
Lucius never said anything about Pillows, though.
One time you walked in on him straddling a pile of pillows and rutting his hips, teeth bared and grunting your name over and over...
K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)
Dom/sub, being called sir or master, spanking, choking, slight exhibitionism, role play
L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)
He’s not particularly fussy- he has a particular fondness for bending you over desks
M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)
He does NOT need much. Being close to you, feeling you wriggling against him, rubbing your hands up and down his back...
N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Draco has yet to find something he won’t like/ he’s a kinky little shit...
O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)
He adores fucking your mouth, and he makes the most lovely noises when your throat constricts around him...
Often, he’ll grab at you and arrange you into a 69 position so that he can taste you while you suck him off... it’s much harder to concentrate on his dick when he licks you out so well...
P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)
Go hard or go home. Often you’re rather sore after your love making- Draco goes very rough with you
Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)
Draco adores sweeping you off into an empty room to fuck you, telling you ‘be quiet, there’s a girl’ and clamping his hand over your mouth to keep you quiet
R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)
Draco loves to try new things with it- you’d be surprised with how easily he gets easily addicted to new positions and games
S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)
He goes for one round. That round, however... is intense. Fast, hard, rough and lasting a fair while, leaving you like jelly
T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)
Draco has a variety of handcuffs, ties, pretty little outfits and such for you to wear, but it’s you who has the really fun toys- he’ll often leave you tied up with a vibrator held up to your clit as you beg for him to just please let you cum... it’s never that simple 🤷🏻♀️
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
See above. Draco loves to tease you. There’s nothing he loves more than holding you on edge for hours or more ...
V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)
He’s not LOUD. He makes noises of course, often through gritted teeth or muffled as he bites into your shoulder...
W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)
One of his biggest fantasies is to have his way with you, taking you from behind while a third person watches your little display...
X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)
Ohooo... seven inches of pale, velvety flesh with a throbbing red tip... almost alwYs makes your eyes roll back as he enters you
Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)
Oh, he would go at it all day with you if you didn’t have responsibilities. He would love to fuck you all day every day, but you both have jobs, things to do, people to see...
Doesn’t stop you fucking at least three times a week.
Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Not very. Draco doesn’t like to fall asleep and leave you straight afterwards (see ‘A’). He would much rather sit up with you, cuddling you tight to his chest, telling you how amazing you are
Tag a List: @obsessedwithrandomthings @haphazardhufflepuff @diksy1112 @zodiyack @axriel @hiddensapphic @samnblack @tinylumpiaa @in-slytherin-we-trust @thatoneasrastan @emmaloo21 @kyn-lyn54-blog @eleven-times-lively
#draco malfoy x reader smut#draco malfoy x you#draco malfoy smut#draco malfoy#draco malfoy x reader#harry potter#imagine#hp#request#smut
207 notes
·
View notes
Text
In Defense of the Heart
Pairings: Kylo x Reader
Genre/Rating: Modern AU, T for some smooching
Words: 3600
Summary: For anon, who requested a modern AU and a pairing with an age gap. Anon, as always, please let me know what you think and if you want me to tweak anything- I want it to be perfect for you! : )
Sighing as you open the door to the shop, you haul the big wooden slab open and walk into the cool air conditioning. This was the fourth and final place on your list to visit, and considering you’d never heard of this shop before, it wasn’t real high on the expectations front.
It certainly looked impressive though. Swords and weapons of all kinds are hanging from the walls in an enticing display. You were itching to get your fingers on them, hands twitching as you approached the counter. But every other prop shop had been either too expensive or too stingy with their weapons and not letting you actually handle a rapier, leading you to believe they weren’t really all that confident in their product. Maybe this one would be a diamond in the rough.
“Can I help you?”
Well, hello. A tall, dark, and handsome man walks around to the back of the counter, black curls rustling slightly from the weight of a fan blowing nearby like some sort of freaking model. You were a bit tongue tied, you had to admit, but you quickly got your bearings and cleared your throat.
“Hi. I’m looking for rapiers, preferably fourteenth or fifteenth century. At least two of them, but preferably we’d have a couple spares just in case.”
“Hm, let me guess.” The man leans on the counter and settles into a thinking pose. “Hamlet?”
You grin. “How’d you know?”
“Well, fourteenth century rapiers. But your shirt also kind of gives it away,” he teases. You look down and see your show shirt proudly displaying Hamlet across your chest, and you blush.
“Right. Do you think you might have what I need?’
“I believe I do.” Reaching into a glass case he unlocks with a key around his neck, he pulls out two absolutely beautiful silver rapiers, one with a gold embellished handle. “I’m thinking the fancier one for Hamlet, yeah? Being the prince and all.”
“Oh, wow. May I-?”
“Of course. Here, I have some gloves you can borrow.” He pulls out a set of worn leather swordsmanship gloves, clearly well loved. As you tug them on, you can tell they’re much too big, but they’ll do for the moment. You pick up the gilded raper and admire the hilt, which is studded with tiny colorful gems. The second is a simpler design, but still elegant and poised, just begging you to take a swing with it. Which you do, stepping into the large middle arena of the shop and taking a few jabs experimentally. It sings through the air and puts a huge smile on your face.
“You handle them well.” He seems to respect that. “You a fight coordinator?”
“In training,” you reply, setting them carefully back down on the wooden counter. “But I’ve got enough experience to take care of weapons, rest assured.”
“The way you handled that; no surprise there.” The compliment gives you happy little feelings shooting through your heart. Always nice when your work is appreciated.
“They’re perfect.” You return the gloves to their owner and take a deep breath. This was always the hardest part. “What are you asking to rent them for, say, two weeks?”
“I’ll give them to you for twenty dollars a day.”
You immediately raise an eyebrow. “That’s it? Are you sure these aren’t already poisoned?”
That makes him laugh, which is a really beautiful sound, if you had to admit it to yourself. “College theatre, I remember how it was. You probably don’t have a huge budget to waste just on swords.figured I’d give you a bit of a discount.”
“That would be amazing, thank you so much.” You roll your eyes. “All the other guys wanted a hundred dollars a day.”
“Yeah, you’ll run into that in traditional stores. Luckily, we are not that.” He winks at you, and that sends all sorts of heat shooting to your cheeks.
“Oh really? What makes you non traditional?”
“Well, for one thing, we specialize in science fiction weapons.” He grins, and you can tell this is really his pride and joy. “You don’t see that in many weapons shops.
“True,” you agree, looking around for anything sci-fi but not finding anything. “Mind showing me what you’ve got?”
“Finally ready to take Hamlet out of the dark ages?”
“Let’s chalk it up to professional curiosity.”
You grin at the sparkle in his eyes as he taps a finger on the counter. “I’ll be right back.”
When he returns, you’re texting your stage manager about the amazing deal you just scored (she sent back a hallelujah emoji). “Whatcha got for me?”
“Only the next up-and-coming weapon of choice for nerds everywhere.”
You laugh as he lays two hilts down on the counter. They’r a bit bulky, with good grips, and look to be made of welded metal plated all fitted into place. It’s great craftsmanship, but… “I’m assuming there’s a blade somewhere?” “Better.” He picks one up and turns it around carefully in his hands, you can tell he’s savoring the moment. He seems to find some sort of activation plate near the base and all of a sudden a beam of light shoots out of the barrel, humming softly.
“Holy shit.”the light seems to shimmer in midair, a straight column of energy in a gorgeous green color. You wave a hand through the beam, laughing in glee when it colors your hand green. “This is incredible! What do you even call it?”
“It’s been affectionately dubbed a light saber.” With the reverence he said it with, you couldn’t help but wonder if he’d dubbed them that himself. “And this one happens to be my personal favorite…” the other one is an electric red and has two small cross guards shooting out the bottom.
“These are amazing! Please tell me you’re going to let me try one.”
Now it’s his turn to raise an eyebrow. “Well that’s what they’re here for; to use. What’s the point, otherwise?”
“The other guys seem to think differently. They wouldn’t so much as let me touch any of their weapons.”
He snorts. “I think you’ll find almost everyone in the industry is a complete dick.” He holds out the hilt of the green one to you. “Ready to try?”
“Oh hell yes.” You activate it and watch in amazement as it roars to life. “Custom sound effects?”
“Made right here in the shop.”
“You made these?”
“Something of a pet project,” he admits sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders like you’re going to laugh at him.
“Absolutely incredible,” you breathe, putting it up to your face and looking straight down the saber. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Designed in house, so I should hope not. Now, the trick to these is to only just touch the beams together so they look like they’re resisting against one another, rather than going straight through.” He holds up his own light saber and puts it directly next to yours so that the colors are touching, but not blending. “Bit difficult to get used to, but-”
“Try me.”
He laughs. “I can do that. Start simple.”
You raise your weapon into and offensive position and swing, while he raises his own to block you. You stop millimeters away from his light to form a perfect clash of colors.
He whistles under his breath. “Impressive control. How long you been doing this?”
“Just a few years. Kind of self taught.” You go for another swing and block combo, this time with an added bit of fancy swinging. “But I’m told I’m good at what I do.”
“I’ll say. Most people can’t get the hang of these right off the bat.” He steps back a few feet and begins a complicated looking sweep of overhead swings and turns, eventually ending with the point at your throat.
“Well now you’re just showing off.”
“I have had some practice,” he laughs, releasing the button and the light disappearing. You do the same. “What do you say? Think Hamlet is ready for an update.?”
“Not so sure our patrons would appreciate that,” you giggle. “But I’ll absolutely take the rapiers.”
“Awesome. Let me just go draw up a contract. Two weeks you said?”
He heads of to a back room and you grab the red light saber he was using from the counter to play with, attempting those fancy turns he had thrown in. You almost dropped the whole thing all together, but taking it slowly you managed to get it around your head and back in front of you. You don’t even notice him watching you from the doorway, with something in his eyes you wouldn’t be able to identify.
“Here you go, it’s all in there.” He hands the papers and swords over to you after you sign. “Let me know how it goes, okay?”
“I absolutely will, thank you so much…”
“Kylo.” He holds out a broad hand to shake and you take it heartily, matching his grip.
“Y/N. Again, thank you so, so much.”
“Anytime.” He’s smiling behind you as you walk out the door.
…..
Well, opening night was clearly a success, judging by the standing ovation the cast received at the end of the show. You don’t have much to do after cleaning and securing the swords backstage, so you wander out to the main hall where patrons are streaming from the theater, chattering excitedly- hopefully about the play they just saw. As the room emptied, a lone man with a bouquet of flowers stood off to the side, seemingly searching for someone in the crowd.
“Excuse me, sir? The actors are all meeting with their families backstage if you’d like to- Kylo!” He turns around at the sound of your voice and it’s the man from the props shop.
“Hey there,” he smiles. “Glad I caught you.”
“Here to check up on your weapons?” You tease. “ Promise they’re clean and locked up backstage.”
“Well actually, I came to see the show.”
“You did?”
“To check on my swords, of course,” he winks, then proffers the bouquet of flowers. “These are for you.”
“Oh, wow.” It’s a beautiful arrangement of flowers with big colorful blooms. “That is so thoughtful of you, thank you so much!”
“Figured you deserved a reward for all your hard work, since you don’t get to stand up there and take a bow.”
You blush. “It’s really not that big of a deal, I’m happy the actors get the recognition-”
“Well, it was a brilliantly choreographed fight. Really well done.”
“High praise, coming from you.”
“You deserve it.
Your cheeks are now on fire from all the compliments and- flirting? Was he flirting? You hoped so- tall, dark, handsome and good with swords? Count you in.
“Listen, I was about to head out and get something to eat- would you mind joining me?”
Oh, heck yes. Of course, you didn’t say that out loud.
“I would love to.” You wave your flowers in the general direction of backstage. “Let me just go grab my stuff, yeah?”
“I’ll be here.”
The two of you ended up at a small coffee shop open late a few blocks from the theatre. It was misting as you walked, and when you shivered, Kylo gallantly threw his leather jacket over your shoulders, making you warm from head to toe- and not just because of the jacket.
The place was small and cozy, an the two of you claim a table in the back after ordering a heap of various baked goods and coffee.
“So, what’d you think of the show?”
“Best production I’ve seen in a long time.”
“Wow, thank you. That really means a lot.”
“Anytime. He grins at you, and you grin back.
The two of you devour your plates of food and chat the entire time, about anything and everything. How you both got into the business, how long you’d been doing it, but also just random life stuff, almost like you were talking to your best friend. He was so easy to get to know, it felt like you’d known him all your life.
“Jesus, look at the time.” He glances at the face of his phone. “I hate to cut this short but I have to open early tomorrow.”
“Hey, no problem. I should probably be getting back as well. But-” you tried to find the words that wouldn’t make you sound too sappy- ‘I had a really fun time tonight.”
“Likewise.” There’s a sparkle in his eyes that you very much enjoy. “We should do it again sometime. Here-” he reaches into one of his pockets and pulls out a business card. “My number.”
You take it, hoping you’re not blushing too badly. “Why thank you. I’ll call you sometime?”
“I look forward to it.” In a flash, he’s gone leaving you standing there clutching his business card in one hand. Well, this was going to be interesting.
…..
You called him a few days later, not wanting to seem desperate, but the truth is you were dying to see him again. He picked up on the first ring and suggested you go out again that night after the play, which you readily agreed to. Once again, he brought flowers and took you to the same little coffee shop, where you talked for hours on end. This continued up until the last matinee of the show, which you were sad about for more than one reason. What if he was only chatting you up because of the business agreement, and once the show was over, he’d disappear for good?
Happily, when you took the rapiers in to return them, your theory was unfounded. You tried to hand them over but he shook is head and smiled, handing one back to you. “Keep it. I’ve got an idea.” After handing you a rig to carry the sword on your back, he takes your hand (much to your delight) and begins walking in the direction of a park about three blocks from his shop.
The sun is shining, kids are running around on the playground with parents sitting near and there’s even a few picnickers here and there dotting the landscape. He surveys the land like he’s looking for something, and apparently decides to lead you on top of a small hill with a huge oak spreading its branches overhead, casting the two of you in dappled sunlight.
He grins, drawing his rapier. “Well? Have at me.”
You giggle. “Excuse me?”
“I want to see some of that famous fight choreography up close and personal. Show me what you got.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Really. You want to fight me.”
“I really, really do.” He winks at you. “Nothing sexier than a girl who can fight.”
Well, hello. You draw your own weapon and settle into a beginning stance. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Consider me warned.”
You open with an overhead strike, a bit difficult considering his height, but you manage. He parries the blow easily and goes for a body shot, which you knock away and immediately counter. He’s incredible, there’s no doubt about it. He looks like he’s dancing rather than fighting, easily moving with your flow like he can anticipate your every move. As the two of you exchange blows, you gather a small crowd who begin to cheer and gasp as the two of you circle closer and closer to landing a blow.
Finally, you decide to play dirty- you intentionally fake a weak move in order to sweep your leg into his, knocking him to the ground. You jam your blade through the hilt of his sword, effectively pinning it to the ground. You grin. “I think I take this one.”
“Oh really?” While you’re gloating, he manages to grab your wrist and yank until you lose your balance, falling and landing squarely on top of him. Before you even have time to get embarrassed, he’s reached up and pressed his lips to yours, capturing you in a heated kiss. The smattering of people who’d gather to watch cheer and whistle as he pulls you into him, wrapping an arm around your back.
Finally releasing you, you sit up, almost dazed from the sudden kiss. But you’re smiling as you land with a thud on the grass, shaking your head as the crowd begins to disperse. “I don’t think that move is in the rule book.”
“Hm.” He’s still laying in the grass, hands behind his head, looking insanely pleased with himself. “Maybe we should add it then.”
You laugh and go in for another kiss.
The two of you spend the afternoon under the oak tree, laughing, talking, and yes, kissing. Kissing that makes your head spin and your heart swirl and thud out of your chest. But you wouldn’t trade sitting under the shade of that tree for anything in the world.
As the sun begins to set, you lift your head from where it’s resting on his shoulder and check your watch. “Ah, crap, I better get going.”
“What, got somewhere better to be?”
You wrinkle your nose at him. “Not exactly, but I do have an 8AM tomorrow, so, you know…”
“An eight AM what?”
“Um, class?” You look at him confusedly. “You know, that whole college thing?”
“Wait, wait- you’re in college?”
“Well, yes. It’s my senior year. I never mentioned that?”
“No, no you didn’t.” He looks a little weird, and his facial expression is something you can’t place.
“Well, surprise, I guess. Why’d you think I was working on a college production if I wasn’t a student myself?”
“I- I don’t know. I-” he stands abruptly, pulling away so quickly you almost groan at the loss of heat. Gathering the rapiers which had been cast aside in favor of sitting together, he hurries down the hill. “I’ll see you later okay?”
“Kylo? Kylo, wait, is something wrong?”
He doesn’t answer, and all you see is his retreating back into the setting sun.
What the actual hell?
…..
A month. A whole, entire month went by without aa word from Kylo. You couldn’t understand it- that day in the park you were sure was something special, and now he’s not responding to any of your texts or calls. Who kisses someone like that and then completely cuts them off?
Unfortunately you still had one more order of business with him- the payment for renting the rapiers during the run of Hamlet. You walk in not even expecting him to be there, but there his is, leaning against the counter like he hasn’t got a care in the world. Fucking fantastic.
“Here.” You promised yourself you wouldn’t let your emotions get the best of you but you ended up slamming the money onto the counter. “All $200 of it. Have a nice life.”
“Y/N, wait-”
“What, Kylo? Finally got something to say? After a month of radio silence?”
“I can explain.”
“Well it better be pretty fucking good.” You cross your arms and wait. He just sort of stands there and stares at you for a minute, then takes a deep breath.
“If I ask you a question, you have to answer me honestly. Okay?”
“Yeah, sure. Whatever.”
“How old are you?”
“How-? I’m twenty one. What does that have to do with absolutely anything here?”
“It has everything to do with it!” He yells, and at first you’re taken aback by him raising his voice, but then it just gives you an even better reason to get angry.
“I don’t see how! I thought-” to your horror, your voice cracks. “I thought you liked me. Stupid of me, I guess.”
“I do like you. A lot. And that’s the problem. I can’t like you.”
“Because-” It finally dawns on you. “Because of my age? Kylo, are you kidding me?”
“No, I’m not! I’m thirty years old, Y/N! I’m practically a decade older than you!”
“Pardon my apparent stupidity, but I’m still not seeing how this is a problem.”
He runs his hands through his hair, frustrated. “You’re not stupid, stop saying that. I just… I can’t date a girl who’s two thirds my age. It would just be wrong.”
“Can’t, or won’t?”
He doesn’t answer that. Just looks down at his hands braced on the counter. “I’m sorry.”
“Well I’m not.” He looks up at you, confused, until you hop up onto the counter, swing your legs over to the other side, and kiss him for all you’re worth. At first, he acts like he’s going to pull away, but eventually he melts into you, returning your affection tenfold, working your lips at an agonizingly slow pace. Enough for your entire body to heat up in want.
When you finally pull away, he’s just as breathless as you are, and you rest your forehead against his, speaking as soft as you dare. “Listen to me. If you really, honestly want to throw this all away, I will walk out that door and you will never see me again. But I don’t think you do. Because we have something, Kylo. Something… amazing. And we’re just now starting to figure it out.” You take a breath. “I don’t want it to be over before it’s even begun.”
He looks into your eyes, brown fathomless pools you could dive into and get lost in forever. “I… I don’t want it to, either.”
Humming in contentment, you press another soft kiss to his lips. “Good. Because with a shop like this? You’re not getting rid of me. Ever.”
It’s so good to see a smile light up his face. “I think I can manage that.”
#star wars#star wars angst#star wars fluff#Star Wars fanfic#kylo ren#kylo ren x reader#kylo ren x you#reader insert#requests#star wars request
40 notes
·
View notes