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javiscigarette · 6 months

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Silent Night

Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: You’re home for the holidays and Joel isn't gonna let a drinking contest or a house full of people stop him.

Warnings: PWP ofc, established relationship, mentions of drinking/alcohol, having to keep quiet?, oral (f&m receiving), thigh grinding, creampie, breeding kink, come play, getting caught, I think that's all lmk if I missed anything

w/c: 6.6k

a/n: hiii everyone! I am in fact alive! I'm finally on break from school and this is just a lil something I wrote real quick bc I've been in the holiday spirit since before October even ended hehehe :) Anyway, thank u to the actual loml @undrthelights for beta reading and finding the perfect pics!! It's nice to be back! Please leave a comment letting me know if you liked it, support is what keeps writers going!! Love u all!!

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Your hips grind a little harder against his thigh, a soft sight falling from your lips as he licks and sucks at the spot under your ear that drives you absolutely wild. “I don't think I can be quiet” you whisper, gasping softly when his tongue swipes over your pulse. "You can" he mumbles against the side of your neck, the vibrations of his voice and his warm breath against your skin sending burning hot sparks down your spine. “You can do whatever I ask, can’t you baby?”

You can hear them downstairs, muffled sounds of Joel and several other of your family members talking and laughing while they sip on the fancy whiskey that your dad was saving for the occasion. You opted out of it, quickly taking up the offer of the first hour or two of alone time you’ve had since you arrived at your parents house two days ago instead. You figured Joel could use the time too, talking with your dad and uncles and cousins about whatever men talk about when they’re doing whiskey tasting in the mancave of a basement.

You managed to avoid getting roped into watching a shitty Hallmark Christmas movie with the rest of your family or helping them prep for the big dinner tomorrow. After successfully sneaking away to your old childhood bedroom that’s now redecorated as a simple guest room, you're left with nothing to do besides relax. First up was a long shower with the water so hot you nearly scalded your skin, and now you’re cozied up in bed, nose buried deep in the middle of your book while the rest of the house buzzed with muted background noise.

Time passes without you noticing, too engrossed in your book to keep track, but eventually the bedroom door creaks open, pulling you back to reality. You’re about to tell off whoever is at the door for interrupting you, but you immediately soften when Joel slips inside, quietly closing the door behind him.

He looks so sweet, wrapped up in a thick dark brown sweater, his curls flopping over his forehead, a light dusting of pink on his cheeks and the bridge of his nose with a lopsided smile. His eyes are soft, warm, and a bit glassy as he looks at you like you’re the best thing he ever did see.

"Think your dad is trying to kill me" he says, his words slurring just a bit as he crosses the room over to the bed.

You giggle, watching him plop down on the bed on his back, his head rolling over to look at you, "Are you surprised? He does this to you every year."

It's true, every holiday at your parents house, your dad insists on the whiskey "tasting", which is really just him pouring heavy handed shots and glasses and seeing who's going to be the last one to tap out. Usually it's just him and his brothers in the end, hashing out some decades old sibling rivalry in the form of a drinking contest. And ever since the first time you brought Joel home for the holiday five years ago, your father has insisted on dragging him down there and challenging him too.

The first year was the worst with Joel not heeding any of your warnings about how much liquor your dad would actually push on him. Joel was so sick by the end of the night that he made best friends with the toilet and passed out on the couch, then spent most of the next morning with a massive hangover, apologizing profusely to your dad about it who just laughed and said that he can try again next year.

Thankfully, Joel knows his limits now and has made peace with the fact that he'll never beat your dad at his own game. It doesn't mean that the challenge doesn't still stand.

"No" he mumbles, a dopey smile spreading across his face, "Guess I jus' never expect him to pour shots big enough to knock out a horse"

"How many did you have this time?" You ask, bookmarking your place in the book before setting it aside, sitting up a little straighter and adjusting the pillows behind your back.

"Jus' three."

"Oh, so you are just a lightweight then?"

"I'm not a fuckin' lightweight" he grumbles with a dramatic pout.

You laugh as you turn to lay on your side, propping yourself up on your elbow. Your hand instinctively falls to his hair, a small content sigh falling from his lips as your fingertips skate across his hairline and glide through his soft curls. scooting closer to him and reaching down to run your fingers through his hair, "Okay, baby" you hum, smiling when his eyes fall shut as your nails gently scratch his scalp, "If you say so."

Joel melts under your touch, like a cat basking in the sun, a lazy little grin on his face and a dreamy, far off look in his eyes. His face is still flushed, the tips of his ears and the tops of his cheeks a rosy shade of pink, his lips slightly parted, a few more stray curls falling across his forehead. He looks absolutely gorgeous, and the soft, tender look in his eyes when he finally looks back up at you melts you from the inside out.

You cup the side of his face in your hand and ;ean in to press a lingering kiss to his forehead. "You're so cute when you're drunk" you murmur, moving kissing his cheek.

"M'not drunk"

You pull back to look him in the eye, smiling, "Sure you're not"

"I'm not" he whines, "M'just a lil' tipsy."

"Alright" you hum, pressing a quick kiss to his pouty lips.

Joel follows your mouth with the softest whine when you start to pull back, his large hand cupping the back of your head, holding you still while he kisses you, needy, but still so sweet. The taste of whiskey is heavy on his tongue as it slides against yours, a soft, satisfied noise rumbling in his chest when you part your lips further, kissing him deeper.

When he finally lets you break the kiss, you're left just a little breathless and dazed, a giddy feeling swirling low in your belly. His pupils are blown when he looks up at you, his lips spit slick and plump, a lopsided smile on his face. He turns a little more on his side facing you, his fingers fiddling with the hem of your t-shirt until his hand slips easily underneath like it was meant to be there. The warmth of his palm smoothing up and down the curve of your spine is soothing, his fingers gently tracing over your ribs and the dip of your waist, the slight scratch of his calluses over your skin sending a shiver down your spine.

His eyes are half-lidded as he stares at your lips, licking his own. Realistically, you knew exactly what was going to happen as soon as he entered the bedroom. You know how he gets when he's like this, soft, sweet, and incredibly needy. With all the amount of times he tugged you into a bar bathroom after he's had a few, or when Tommy drops him off after a night out and he's already halfway to undressing you before the front door even shuts. You know he's trouble like this, but you can never deny him when he's looking at you like that, like you're the only thing he needs, the only thing he's ever needed.

He leans in to kiss you again, slow and sweet, his fingers splaying on your lower back and keeping you close. His mouth moves languidly against yours, the tip of his tongue tracing your bottle lip and his teeth sinking in the slightest bit to nip and tug, pulling a desperate little sound out from the back of your throat.

He sighs at the small sound and starts to lean into you more, using his weight to roll you over until you're flat on your back with him hovering above you, his forearms on either side of your head with his knees bracketing your hips. The kisses grow hungrier, wetter, more insistent, his mouth moving against yours like he's trying to breathe the very air from your lungs.

He shifts a bit and you moan softly into his mouth when his thigh slots between yours, the firm muscle of his thigh pushing right up against the apex of your thighs, the perfect amount of pressure to make heat spark and smolder in your belly. He does it again, rocking his thigh up against you just a little harder, swallowing the needy whimper that you let out, the heat and friction making you ache.

You can’t help but grind against his thigh, the seam of your sweatpants pressing against the damp spot that’s already forming on your panties and digging into your clit just right. You’re chasing the growing pleasure, the firmness of his thigh and the intoxicating taste of whiskey on his soft lips mixed with the faint trace of his peppermint toothpaste. You’d give anything to have him, for him to take you, but the sounds of laughter and chatter coming from downstairs is a rude reminder of reality.

"Joel" you warn with absolutely no heat in your voice, his lips grazing the sensitive spot under your ear, "We can't.”

He ignores you for a beat, crashing his lips back on yours and kissing you until he needs to come up for air.

"We can" he says, his voice gravelly and thick with want, the deep rumble vibrating in his chest. "We're bein' real quiet"

His lips trail across the line of your jaw and up your cheek before landing on your mouth again. The slow, lazy drag of his tongue against yours makes you throb, another soft when escaping you and the muscles in your legs and stomach tightening as you make no effort to stop moving against his thigh.

“Everyone will hear us” you try feebly, knowing it’s futile.

Joel smirks against your lips, the bastard. “Nah. I’ll be quiet.”

You know he's a damn liar and a bad one at that. In what world could you be quiet with his hands and mouth on you, with his thick cock buried deep inside you, stretching you out and filling you up so good that your toes curl? And in what world could he be quiet, not running his mouth about how good you feel, how pretty you look stuffed full of him, how well you take him. You know exactly how it'll go, if the numerous failed previous attempts are anything to go by.

But then his lips are on the side of your neck, and you're forgetting why it matters. You let your eyes fall shut as his lips press gentle, wet kisses up and down the column of your throat, the stubble on his cheeks and chin scratching and tickling in the best way. You're quickly forgetting why this was a bad idea to begin with.

"You can" he mumbles against the side of your neck, the vibrations of his voice and his warm breath against your skin sending burning hot sparks down your spine. “You can do whatever I ask, can’t you baby?”

“I don’t- oh…”

The rest of your sentence dies on the tip of your tongue as he pushes his thigh against you, grinding it up against your core in a way that has your head spinning and toes curling, the pleasure sharp and delicious as it melts into your veins.

“That’s right” he murmurs, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth. “You’ll do whatever I say, huh?”

There’s a pause and when you open your eyes, his are dark, his pupils blown wide, the deep brown nearly swallowed whole. His hair is tousled and curlier than ever, a few loose strands hanging in his face. His lips are slightly parted, swollen, red, and sick and shiny from your kisses. He’s an absolute sight and you can’t help but nod, eager to do whatever he wants, whatever he asks, because god it’s always worth it.

His eyes crinkle a bit at the corners and the lopsided smirk on his face widens. He’s the fucking devil.

Just the thought of him taking you with the rest of the house full of your extended family is making your veins buzz, excitement bubbling low in your belly. But you're well aware of just how thin the walls are and how nosy some members of your family are and you can't fathom how awkward it would be to come down for breakfast the next morning after the whole house heard you getting absolutely railed.

"It’ll be okay" he assures, reading your thoughts, his hands slipping under your shirt again. The fabric bunches up over his wrists as he slides his palms up your torso to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples. "M’not gonna let anyone else hear you. Just me."

Fuck.

His simple words are enough to convince you, not that you needed much convincing in the first place. He had you wrapped around his finger and him around yours, and there was no way you were going to say no to what you know will come next. A jolt of electricity shoots down your spine and settles hot and heavy in the pit of your stomach. Your resolve breaks, your legs falling open further, letting him get even closer, and Joel lets out a soft, happy noise against your mouth.

"Atta girl" he hums, his voice rough and deep, "So good for me, aren't ya baby?"

"Always" you manage to reply, the word more of a sigh as you arch your back, his thumb teasing your nipple until it's pebbled and hard.

He gives into you easily, tugging your shirt up and over your head. His mouth lands on your chest as soon as it’s exposed, immediately licking and kissing across your collarbones and the swell of your breast. He noses along the valley between them, the coarse hair of his beard tickling your skin and making you giggle. You can feel him grinning against your skin before he nips and sucks at the supple flesh until a red mark rises to the surface.

You squirm beneath him, his leg still nestled perfectly between yours and pressing against you every time he shifts. The pressure is building in your gut, your clit aching and throbbing. The feeling is almost too much with his hot wet mouth now wrapped around your nipple, his tongue swirling around the stiff peak making it harder and harder for you to keep quiet.

“Joel,” you hiss, the word half warning and half plea.

“Hush, baby” he mumbles against your skin. His fingers replace his mouth, pinching and teasing your swollen, spit-slick nipple as he kisses across your chest to lavish your other nipple with the same attention.

“Gotta be quiet, remember?” he says when he pulls back, releasing your nipple with a wet pop. “Unless you want everyone hearin’ ya”

You open your mouth to say something in protest, to tell him that he’s making things a lot harder right now, but then he starts moving, sliding down the bed and the words die in your throat. The look he gives you as he settles on his stomach between your thighs is sinful, his eyes dark and mischievous, his lips pulled up into a smirk.

He hooks his fingers in the waistband of your sweats, slowly pulling them along with your panties down your legs, leaving you completely bare. Your stomach swoops at the sight of his eyes trained to your center and your thighs twitch, wanting to snap shut and hide. But his hands on both of your thighs keep you spread open for him. You swallow thickly, your breath catching in your throat, the anticipation building in the pit of your belly as your slick starts to drip down the cleft of your ass.

Joel’s mouth falls open slightly, a shaky breath escaping him. “Fuck, baby” he sighs, tongue darting out to lick his cherry red lips, his eyes glazing over. A small, content smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, a swell of pride blossoming in your chest. He looks wrecked, like a starving man eyeing his first meal, and the way he's looking at you so intently, like you're the best thing he's ever seen, the thing that's kept him alive all these years, is making your heart pound almost painfully in your chest.

“Fucking gorgeous,” he praises, his hand running along the inside of your thigh. “And all mine.”

Like he can’t wait another second, he’s leaning in and licking a long, wet stripe up your center, dragging his tongue through your folds from your leaking hole to your swollen, needy clit. The feeling of his tongue on you pulls a soft, broken sound from you. You clap your hand over your mouth as your head spins, a rush of pleasure washing over you making the muscles in your thighs and stomach twitch and flex.

He does it again and again, and every time his tongue flicks over the swollen bud, you let out a soft whine that sounds far too loud in the otherwise quiet room.

He groans against you, his mouth already wet and messy as he laps at your pussy like he's starving for it, like he would die without tasting you. His eyes are locked on yours, the look in them so dark and primal that it makes your walls clench, more slick freely leaking out of you and onto his tongue. He laps it up happily, his fingers digging into your hips, holding you steady as his mouth works your clit.

He lets out a quiet, breathy moan when you slide your hand through his hair once again, your fingers tangling in and pulling on the soft brown strands. His eyes flutter shut, a shuddery exhale falling from his parted lips, and the feeling of his warm breath fanning over your wet, sensitive center has you stifling another high pitched whimper.

You roll your hips up against his face, desperate for more, and he gets the hint, the flat of his tongue swiping up through your folds a few more times before he dips it into your entrance, pushing in and out while his nose nudges at your clit. You're writhing beneath him, tugging at his hair, trying so hard to be quiet but failing miserably, soft, desperate little noises pouring out of your mouth. You know he's loving it too, making no effort to keep your noises at bay, not giving a single fuck about who might hear.

He moans against your cunt, the vibrations making you jolt, your hips rolling up to meet him. You're panting, the hand that isn't buried in his hair gripping the sheets tight enough that your knuckles turn white, and your back arches when his tongue fucks in and out of you faster, rougher.

"Joel, fuck" you gasp, "I- I'm-

He growls, the sound muffled by your pussy, the vibrations and the feeling of his stubble dragging along your inner thighs making your toes curl, the familiar coil in your belly tightening, your thighs trembling.

He doubles down, bringing a hand between your legs to replace his tongue with two thick fingers sinking into you and curling up against that spot inside you that has you seeing stars, his tongue circling your clit while his fingers pump in and out of you, his mouth and hand working in tandem to pull you apart.

"Fuck, I'm close" you whimper, his fingers crooking against that spot inside of you, sending white hot fire coursing through your veins as your slick leaks down his fingers and into his palm like hot honey.

He hums, sucking your clit between his lips, and your legs clamp around his head, your hand tightening in his hair as your orgasm crashes over you, your back arching off the mattress, a muffled, broken moan spilling out from behind your hand. He fucks you through it, his tongue flattening out against your clit while the tips of his fingers rub against that sweet spot inside of you, sending more sparks of pleasure tingling up and down your spine.

When it's too much, when the sensitivity makes tears prick in the corners of your eyes, you make a feeble attempt to push him away. He pulls back, sitting up on his knees, his chin and cheeks wet with your slick, his pupils blown so wide that the brown is almost completely swallowed up by black. He stares at you, his gaze so heavy and intense that it makes another shiver run down your spine.

"You're not being very quiet" he smirks as he moves off the bed to stand up.

You roll your eyes, still coming down from the aftershocks, your thighs quivering, "Yeah, no shit" you mutter, propping yourself up on your elbows.

He chuckles as he pulls off his sweater and the t-shirt underneath it before he starts unbuckling his belt and working on his jeans. You sit up, shuffling closer to the edge of the bed, reaching out and batting his hands away, taking over and quickly unfastening the button and pulling the zipper down.

He doesn't protest, letting you push his jeans and boxers down his legs until he kicks them all the way off. Your mouth waters at the sight of his thick, hard cock hanging heavy between his legs, flushed a deep red with slippery precum beading at the tip. You reach out, wrapping your hand around the base and taking a moment or two to revel in the familiar weight and warmth of him in your hand.

He shudders, a low moan rumbling in his chest, his eyes slipping shut as his hand moves to cup the back of your head. He watches you intently as you take your time, lazily stroking him, rubbing the pad of your thumb over the leaking tip and tracing the throbbing veins that run along the sides. His breathing grows heavy, his jaw clenching and his stomach muscles twitching as he tries so hard not to buck his hips up into the loose circle of your fist.

"C'mon, sweetheart" he pleads, the words leaving his mouth as a low, breathless groan, "Get me all nice and wet for you."

He doesn't have to ask twice. You lean forward and you dart your tongue out to lap up the bead of precum, humming at the salty, bitter taste of it, swirling the flat of your tongue over the head of his cock, your hand pumping the rest of his shaft. His breath catches in his throat, a stuttered curse falling from his lips when you dip your tongue into the slit, teasing more precum out.

He groans, his grip on the back of your head tightening, urging you to take him into the warm, wet heat of your mouth. You sink down, flattening your tongue and taking him all the way until he hits the back of your throat, the tip of his cock brushing against the roof of your mouth. You breathe through your nose, hollowing your cheeks, swallowing around him, and the deep, guttural groan that he lets out has you squirming, slick leaking out of your cunt and onto the sheets below.

"There ya go" he pants, his head lolling back, "Oh, baby, that's it. S'fuckin' perfect."

You pull off, a string of spit and precum connecting his cock to your bottom lip, and you look up at him through your lashes.

"Need to be quiet" you remind him, "Or else I'll stop"

He lets out a shaky breath and nods, swallowing hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. He's not used to keeping quiet, not used to not telling you how good you feel, not used to not begging you to let him cum in that low, raspy tone that never fails to make you weak.

"I'll be good," he whispers, breathless and needy. "Promise."

Your stomach swoops at his words, arousal burning bright in your belly. Unable to stay away for much longer, you lean forward, pressing a soft kiss to the head of his cock. His hips jerk, another drop of precum leaking out. You lick it up, swirling your tongue around the sensitive, swollen tip before sinking down again. You take him into the wet heat of your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and swallowing around him, bobbing your head slowly and steadily.

He bites his lip hard enough to draw blood trying with all his might to keep his noises in as you drool all over his cock. He can't take his eyes off you, watching the way he disappears into the slick heat of your mouth. You look so pretty with your lips wrapped around him, spit dripping down his cock and leaking out the corners of your mouth while your eyes water as you take him as far as you can.

You take him deeper, and you swallow, your throat convulsing around him, and the way his whole body shudders makes you smile, proud of the effect you have on him. He's so big and thick, and you both know you can't fit him all the way down your throat, but seeing you try your best is enough to make his thighs start to shake.

His cock hits the back of your throat again and again, the tip dipping into the soft, warm, tight space, and Joel's breathing is getting heavier and faster, his jaw clenched and his eyebrows knitted together.

"Shit" he grits out under his breath, "That's it, sweetheart. That's fuckin' it."

The praise goes straight between your legs, a fresh wave of slick leaking out of you and it's too tempting to resist, so you slip your hand between your thighs and rub circles around your clit, moaning softly around his cock.

He hisses, his eyes snapping down, watching your hand disappear between your legs.

"Are you touchin' yourself?" he asks, the words coming out rough and choked, his eyebrows raised.

You nod, sliding a finger into yourself, and you pull off his cock, panting, a thin strand of spit connecting the head to your bottom lip.

"Can't help it" you whine pathetically, your voice already raspy from how far his cock had been down your throat.

Joel groans, his dick twitching, and he's had enough. He takes a step back, and you let go, a little confused and worried that you've done something wrong. But he just takes hold of your arms and yanks you off the bed, his strong hands easily manhandling you, and then he's pushing you, turning you around and bending you over the side of the mattress.

"Oh" you breathe out, bracing yourself on your forearms, arching your back, sticking your ass up in the air.

You don't have to wait long for him to move. His hand is smoothing over your ass, the other one guiding his cock towards your sopping cunt. He teases the tip between your folds, spreading your slick and dragging his head over your swollen clit a few times before lining himself up and sinking in.

You bite down on the inside of your cheek to keep quiet, letting out a stuttering breath, the familiar, delicious burn of his thick cock stretching you out making your eyes roll back into your head. You've made peace with the face that you'll never be used to his size. It'll always be too much, the feeling of him pushing into, forcing your walls to make room for him will always make you clench and shiver.

He's got his hands on your hips, holding you steady as he bottoms out, his hips flush with the curve of your ass with the tip of his cock pressed against your cervix. He holds himself there for a moment, both of you adjusting to the feeling, and you're trying so hard not to moan, to keep your noises muffled by the mattress, and you know Joel's struggling too, his jaw clenched tight and his brow furrowed.

"Good girl" he whispers, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips, "Taking my cock so well, aren't ya?"

You nod, whimpering, your fingers twisting in the sheets.

He pulls back and thrusts back in, setting a steady, slow rhythm, the wet slide of his cock making the most obscene sounds. And it's driving you crazy, the need to let out loud, your chest burning with the effort of keeping your noises in. He keeps his pace slow, not wanting to make more noise with his hips snapping against your ass. It’s nearly tortuous though, the drag of his cock in and out of you so slow that you can feel every ridge as he takes his sweet time. You can only handle it for a few moments before the tingling hints of pain from the stretch subside and the burning need for him to fuck you senseless takes over.

"Joel" you whine, "Faster, please."

He leans over you, his front pressed against your back, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. "You're not gonna stay quiet if I do," he says, his voice deep and gravelly, "Just take what I give you, sweetheart."

You're so worked up, the slow pace makes you even more desperate for him, and you can't help it, you need more, and you reach a hand back and grab his hip, urging him to speed up.

"I-I'll try" you promise, "Please, just- Just fuck me, Joel, please"

He hesitates, but the way you're squirming beneath him is so tempting, and the way his cock is throbbing and dripping inside of you is telling him that he needs more too.

Before you can say anything else, he's pulling back, the thick, heavy weight of him sliding out of you. You whimper at sudden empty feeling but you don't have time to complain before he's flipping you over onto your back and scooting you up the bed before climbing on top of you. You can’t help but notice how big he is, the muscles flexing smoothly in his strong arms that box you in as he hovers above you, nearly encompassing your entire body underneath his. His mouth is on yours before you can even blink, his tongue slipping past your lips and kissing you like his life depends on it.

He settles between your legs, his hips nestled in the cradle of your thighs, his cock dragging along your clit again warm and heavy, and you gasp, the sound swallowed by his mouth. You're squirming again, desperate to feel him stretch you out more and he takes mercy on you, reaching between your bodies and grabbing the base of his cock, guiding the thick head towards your entrance.

"Gotta be quiet, baby" he warns, his eyes boring into yours as he looks down at you. "Those pretty noises are just for me, yeah? Can't have anyone hearin' 'em."

You nod frantically and the next second he's pushing in, the fat head of his cock forcing its way into you and bottoming out in one smooth motion. You let out a gasp that's definitely too loud but Joel is quick to remedy it, his hand coming up to cover your mouth, his fingers splaying across your cheek.

"Shh" he shushes you, his hips rolling, the slow, lazy drag of his cock against your walls making you clench around him. Your eyes roll back, your back arching as his hand stops all the whiny little sounds you can't help but make. He continues to fuck you slow and deep, his cock sliding in and out of your soaking wet cunt, the filthy sounds of skin slapping against skin echoing softly in the room.

You can't take your eyes off him, watching his eyes squeeze shut, the muscles in his arms and shoulders flexing as he fucks you, his brows knitted together and his teeth sunk into his bottom lip. He looks beautiful like this, sweat glistening on his skin, his jaw tight, and his eyes shut tight, his mouth hanging open with his breaths coming out in soft, barely audible pants.

"Mmm" he hums, his hips picking up speed, his cock pushing impossibly deeper. "You feel so fuckin' good, baby. Fuck."

You reflexively clench around him and a shudder runs through his whole body.

"Gettin' real tight" he pants, "Tryna milk the cum right outta me, huh? Tryna make me fill up that pretty pussy?"

You whimper into his palm, your pussy fluttering, a fresh wave of slick coating his cock, and he groans, his hips picking up speed.

"S'what you want?" he asks in a hushed tone, his hand still pressed firmly over your mouth. "You want me to fill you up? Make a mess of that pretty pussy? Breed you until you're fuckin' stuffed, baby girl?"

Your back arches off the bed, the coil in your belly so tight that you think you might pass out. He's rambling, his thrusts losing rhythm, his breathing getting ragged and choppy, his chest heaving and his thighs shaking.

"That's it" he coaxes when you tighten around him even more, "Can feel it, can feel how close you are. Go on, baby, cum on my cock. Wanna feel that tight, wet cunt cum all over my cock, please, baby."

His hips snap forward, his cock pushing deep into you, the tip rubbing against the spongy spot deep inside you that makes the coil in your belly finally snap. Your eyes roll back, a muffled, broken moan falling from your lips as your entire body convulses, your orgasm washing over you and making your toes curl as your walls flutter around his cock buried to the hilt inside of you.

Joel lets out a deep, low groan, his hips stuttering as he fucks you through your orgasm. His hand slips away from your mouth so he can grip your hips with both hands, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, holding you in place so he can chase after his own release. His chest is tight as he holds in his grunts and groans, but it’s barely any use with the lewd noises that fill the room as your pussy gushes around him, your slick leaking past the tight seal of your walls around him and dripping down to his balls.

"Oh, shit, baby. Christ,” he chokes out, his stomach muscles clenching as his hips slam into yours, his cock pushing impossibly deeper and harder. “Keep makin’ a mess, keep lettin’ me feel it. That’s it. Fuckin’ hell.”

You can feel his cock starting to throb inside of you and you know he’s close. And you can’t stop the words from leaving your mouth, the need to let him know just how good he’s making you feel is destroying any bit of common sense.

“Want you to fill me up,” you whine. “Please, Joel, wanna feel it.”

That’s all it takes. His jaw clenches, his nose scrunching as his eyes squeeze shut. His cock twitches and pulses as he buries himself as deep as he can get before spilling into, filling you with thick, hot ropes of his cum. His hips jerking and stuttering d you clench around him, squeezing and milking him for everything he has while he buries his face in the crook of your neck, muffling his broken, ragged moans against your skin.

"So good,” he whimpers. “Fuckin’ perfect.”

The praise goes straight between your legs and you wrap your arm around his shoulders, trying to pull him closer. He lifts his head, his palm resting on your cheek as he lifts his head and presses his lips against yours, kissing you languidly. His hips rock back and forth lazily, pushing his cum in as deep as he can get it. You melt into the bed underneath him, the only things keeping you tethered to the earth being your fingers combing through his hair and your legs tightening around his waist.

When he finally pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours, and you're both left panting, trying to catch your breath. You listen to the muffled sounds of people downstairs, the movie playing and their drunken voices filtering in through the door, and Joel must be thinking the same thing because he chuckles.

"Well" he says, his thumb rubbing back and forth over your cheekbone, "I don't think anyone heard us."

"You better hope they didn't" you retort, a grin on your face. Joel rolls his eyes. "That's a weird way to say thank you" he teases. You start to laugh, but the sound dies in your throat, morphing to a whimper instead when he starts pulling out his softening cock.

"Joel" you whine, but he doesn't stop. "Joel, please. It's-"

He's not listening, he's too focused on the way his cock looks when he pulls out. The tip slips out of you, and the rest follows, and his eyes widen as he watches a string of thick, sticky cum stretch from the tip of his cock to your cunt. It breaks, falling to your thigh, and he licks his lips. He can't tear his eyes away, watching the way your cunt flutters, and his cum starts to drip out, running down your slit, the obscene sight making Joel's spent cock twitch.

"Shit" he mutters under his breath, "Ain't that a pretty picture."

He reaches down, dragging a finger through the mess of cum and slick and gathering it on his finger before pushing it back into your cunt. You clench around the digit before he sighs and pulls it back out.

"Gonna be leaking all day tomorrow" he murmurs, almost to himself.

You whimper, the thought of having him dripping out of you all day like that has renewed arousal already seeping into your veins.

“It’s okay” he assures you, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll take care ya. Clean you up and put my cock back in right where it belongs, how’s that sound, hm?”

You sigh, nodding, a wave of fatigue washing over you. “Sounds perfect,” you agree.

You watch as he climbs off of you and starts to move, but a sudden, sharp sound of knuckles knocking on the other side of the bedroom door makes you both freeze.

“You two are fucking disgusting!” the voice of your cousin calls out, accompanied by the sound of a couple other people giggling and laughing. “Put some goddamn clothes on and get down here!”

You and Joel exchange glances, his eyes wide and apologetic, his cheeks burning bright red as you give him a look that says I told you so.

“Alright, alright, we’re coming” he yells back.

“We’re coming! Oh, yeah we’re coming!” another voice teases, the sound of everyone bursting out laughing quickly follows.

“We’re never doing that again” Joel mutters and you can’t help but chuckle.

“Yeah right. Keep telling yourself that”

Thank you for reading!!! Plsss let me know if you enjoyed hehehe

#joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller one shot #joel miller fic #the last of us #tlou fic #joel miller #pedro pascal characters

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white-poppie · 2 years

Note

hii, can i request silva, illumi, zeno, chrollo & hisoka w a reader that thinks they're really strong, cool and admires them has a silly, innocent lil crush on them?

Puppy Crush

A/N: Hey Nonnie, thank you for requesting this. I won't be doing Silva and Zeno as they are very old and I am not comfortable, rather I would do Kite and Kurapika. Thank you.

Pairing: Illumi, Chrollo, Hisoka, Kite and Kurapika with Gn! reader

Illumi

Listen if you are the kind of person who thinks powerful men are cool here is your man.

Illumi is honestly very oblivious

(or if he knows he just chooses to ignore it.)

Either way, he is of a very stoic nature and doesn't really care about others' feelings.

If you are someone who is very close to him (like a family friend or a valuable asset) He might find it endearing.

Honestly, overall he is just very nonchalant and doesn't care.

"You know I think Y/N has a thing for you," his mom sighed.

"...They do?" he questioned.

"Are you really that oblivious?" she gasped, "don't you see how they look at you? With practically heart eyes, it's cute honestly."

"Talk to them Illumi! They are perfect for you!"

Chrollo

INFJ gang yuhh. Honestly among the adult trio, he is the coolest (stg if you are a toxic Chrollo simp, here is your chance to leave.) Literally gonna base him on myself.

Listen, he either knows or Knows and is in denial/shy. No in-between.

Either way, he is very observant of you.

He is taking care of every single variable.

He notices any slight change or discomfort? Ready to run laps to make you comfortable!

He is tracking your food habits, sleep schedule and everything subconsciously (yes it is not even a conscious effort!)

He might look very scary and tall, my lord he blushes so much when he looks at you. he is like o(°///▽///°)o.

You two are so madly in love with each other that it is visible to everyone except you two.

Pakunoda is shipping yall so bad

Overall he is just a sweet and gentlemanly guy.

Chrollo was quick to notice your growing sense of dread among the many people in the auction.

Before he could comprehend what was happening, he was dragging you away from the crowd. He made you sit on a bench and fetched water for you.

"You okay there?" he asked patting you head.

"Yeah, thank you Chrollo, you are so sweet, I can't help fall for you all over again." As soon as the words left your mouth, your eyes widened.

Chrollo's face reciprocated the expression, but slowly melted into a smile, "good, the feelings are mutual then."

Hisoka

Dear Lord, why him? Anyways...

Hisoka thinks it's cute that you are so weak compared to him.

Yes, he is attracted to power, but he also likes the authority over his s/o.

May or may not tease you just for fun to see your reactions.

Flexes like a pro.

Gets in trouble so you take care of him.

Hisoka looked at you as your dexterity wiped his forearms that were filled with cuts.

"You need to be more careful," you scolded.

He chuckled and leaned back, "sure darling."

You growled and your cheeks grew warm, he only smirked at your reaction.

Oh such a cute little plaything you were

(I TRIED MY BEST TO KEEP IT NORMAL OKAY?? I DONT LIKE HIM AND I TRIED NOT TO LET MY HATE REFLECT)

Kite

Sweet baby boy, it has been so long since I wrote for him.

The most direct and intelligent among all of them.

Still, he can't help, but poke fun a little.

He thinks you are the most adorable little thing.

He teaches you basic self-defence so you can take care of yourself.

WILLINGLY lets his hands linger on your shoulders while fixing your stance. (smooth mf)

Will hope that you confess to him first, but if you take too long he will just go ahead and do that.

"Keep your fists on shoulder level," Kite commanded and you hesitantly lowered them.

He sighed and moved back from where you were standing, grabbing your hands and positioning them down. A shiver ran down your spine.

"Focus, Y/N," he said close to your ear and moved away with a kind smile

Kurapika

The loml, my husband, the father of my children.

Dear god, it's me again, what harm will it bring you to get me a Kurapika. I do not wish for a perfect man who is tall, buff and caring. I am just wishing for a blonde himbo with anger issues who ghosts everyone but is one of the only reasons I am happy. Is it too much to ask?

Okay, Kurapika...is dumb when it comes to feelings.

Like you 'like- like' him? You sure? Why him though? Are you okay? Do you need to be taken to a doctor?

He is such a gentleman how can you not fall for him???

Eventually, he does catch on though (After Killua and Leorio repeatedly point the obvious out.)

He still thinks why would you like someone like him?

Thinks he is very lucky to have someone like you.

Slowly starts falling for you too.

Why do you care for him so much he wonders? Why do you wait for him every time he disappears?

You were crying, why were you crying? Well because Kurapika just randomly decided to show up after ghosting everyone for almost two years. Making you worry sick, you spent so long looking for him. You even thought he was dead!

You were hitting his chest, sobbing in his embrace.

"You are so mean, so mean to me!" you cried out.

His hands rubbed on your back, and tears lined his eyes, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, let me tell you that there hasn't been a single day I didn't think of you when I was away. I love Y/n, truly."

(I AM NOT CRYING, YOU ARE!)

Hunter x Hunter (ハンタ x ハンタ)

〜 ➤Taglist: @denkis111, @idowritingandstuff, @maybeleftoverjourneys, @akumicchi, @nanaseishiro, @rintaroubby, @astrofai, @kristaline2dmensimp, @futuristicallykawaiiturtle, @jazzylove

Special customers(Taglist)

Book order details (Request Rules)

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sirenlulls · 9 months

Text

she's thunderstorms → g. gallagher

pairing —gene gallagher x albarn!reader (diana silvers face claim!)

summary —where you're the best nepo baby pairing there is

she's been loop-the-looping around my mind. her motorcycle boots give me this kind of acrobatic blood, concertina

♡ liked by lilamoss, inhalerdublin, and 99,863 others

yourusername lots of smiles this week 😇🫶

gracieabrams ur the loml

↳ yourusername hihihi wife

genegallagher Deleting this would be a bad idea

↳ yourusername thanks for the advice king 🙏🙏

genegallagher Keep blessing the feed

↳ yourusername the grind never stops 😮‍💨

gallagher_anais the second pic speaks to me

↳ yourusername hmmmm maybe bcs you took it?

user ur so stunning omg

user the ultimate sunshine girlie

user mother!!!

user hey *leaning against me 21 porsches and fixing my ysl jumper while the light reflects off of my 50 rolexes*

irisapatow obsessed with u

user when's the new pod episode out?

↳ yourusername tomorrow!! xx

ruby1kid Such an angel!!!! Never stop smiling gorgeous girl 😆❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

↳ yourusername love you xxx

damonalbarn Always love to see you smiling ❤️

↳ yourusername love u forever dad 🫶🥹

user she's actually perfect wtf

genegallagher just posted an instagram story!

♡ liked by gallagher_anais, stellajones, and 21,556 others

genegallagher Y/n told me to post because I give "major Phoebe Bridgers energy"

yourusername omg 🤭🤭

yourusername can i have ur number??

↳ genegallagher No I've got a gf xx

↳ yourusername smh all boys are the same ur not even that cute anyway

yourusername phoebe my queen 😍😍

yourusername love u a little bit

↳ genegallagher Love you a lot xx

liamgallagher Bumbaclarts

ruby1kid So gorgeous xx

user he looks like he's about to tell me im sick, and im married, and i might be dying, but im holding him like water in my hands

user need someone to hype me up the way y/n hypes gene up fr

user THE LAST PIC!!!! MUM AND DAD

user hottest couple ever omg

damonalbarn ❤️

liked by genegallagher

♡ liked by ryanmcmahon_15, gracebrns, and 101,489 others

yourusername fooled around n fell in love or whatever elvin bishop said

genegallagher Cute or whatevz 🥱

↳ yourusername k...

liamgallagher Sappy bastards

↳ yourusername see u sunday king lg 🫶

genegallagher Honoured to be posted with that song

↳ yourusername you deserve it 💞

genegallagher 7/10 post, should have more you

↳ yourusername sorry to disappoint 💔

↳ genegallagher Don't let it happen again smh 😔

ruby1kid Awwww!!! Love you little angels so much!!! Sending kisses xx ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

↳ genegallagher We love you too xx

↳ yourusername you have to come over sometime soon 🫶🫶

damonalbarn Gross 🤮🤣

↳ yourusername breaking my heart old man 💔

bobbyskeetz might be sick

↳ yourusername shut up u loser

↳ bobbyskeetz oh how you wound me

user sorry y/n and rob interaction giving me war flashbacks to gene being petty on main after he jokingly flirted with y/n

↳ user OMG STOP THE WHOLE "she likes drummers" STORY CAPTION HES SO CHILDISH I WAS WEAK

user going deep sea diving with ankle weights!!

user will never get over the shock of realising she wasn't for the girls

user how am i supposed to live knowing i'll never have this

user never beating the parents allegations i'm afraid

genegallagher just posted an instagram story!

#gene's girl.#gene gallagher x reader #gene gallagher #liam gallagher #lennon gallagher #damon albarn #anais gallagher #oasis #oasis x reader #britpop #britpop x reader #nepo baby #nepo baby!reader

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snixx · 5 months

Note

heyyy so like a completely sane and hinged normal person i just watched all of 'in the heights' umm 😗

first of all i love stephanie beatriz and i love that shes in it and nina has absolute killer cheekbones omg, also i love watching shit in spanish and dont enough so thank u 🫶🫶

poor nina omg i instantly loved her and felt bad for her in the beginning :(( also i absolutely loved usnavi hes so charming and lovely and vanessa slays so hard oml, and sonny hdjdksjsj hes so silly i love him but at the same time hes such a good guy and has depth to him yk, i love it when all the characters have a story and not just one (that doesnt happen in the american shows i watch 👀👀 no hate to them tho i still love them)

the song u sent me which was already so beautiful was even more so in context and ur absolutely so right benny is such a sweetheart oh god i loved him but at the same time when he teases usnavi jdksjaj

and omg nooo nina theyre not LISTENING to her :((( my baby ahhhh its killing me and benny saying 'youre not hearing her' I LOVE HIM what a cutie omg

also can i just say abuela claudia slays and i LOVED her story, she kinda made me think of my mum ngl and also her death was so beautiful and bittersweet and the song after was so beautiful too

and unavis daughter was so cute omg she was adorable and i loved her

i felt a special connection to sonny too for some reason, new projection character?? 🤭

vanessa and usnavi were killing me too like omg just get together !!!!! >:(

i loved the ending tho and the bodega painting thing was so sweet aw oml

i usually dont like watching movies bcs they dont impact me the same as series bcs its just not long enough a time to get through all the characters and get to properly know them but this one was different, i loved everything about it, it was genuinely so beautiful and i spiring and like euphoric in a way if u get what i mean?

anyway now that i've watched it i can proudly say that i find myself equipped to be your benny 😤 (i hope you dont think im insane now)

omfg alex ily wtf

ITS SO GOOD LITERALLY ONE OF MY FAVOURITE MOVIES OF ALL TIME. like its the first movie that comes to mind when i try to think of a perfect movie (i have a mixed playlist for the movie and the broadway musical because it left out some songs but its so full of life and colour and i love it so much). and the funny thing is i normally am not a movie person too but this was so long and i still loved it

anyway you're insane and i love you

NINAAAA LITERALLY THE LOML SHE'S SUCH A MOOD AND SHE AND VANESSA ARE BOTH SO FUCKING PRETTY AND BADASS

you're so right about the american tv shows and you should say it. also YES SONNY LITERALLY THE MVP HE'S SO SO SO REAL AND EVERYTHING

every character is so beautiful and complex and i love them so much. also usnavi is a butch loser lesbian i don't make the rules <3

anywayy i was already deep in the obsession but youve made me want to watch the movie yet again brb kjfdhgkjfdh

#summer child 🍃#in the heights #sdjdkfhsdjkgh omfg i read this before my exam and was grinning like a maniac all morning

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seokmatthewz · 2 years

Note

did i ever ask u ur top 5 limjis iri

i can't be tasked with this millie . loveholic limji who you limji damage limji tick tock limji reload limji BXNDNDN ok fine I will try 😔😔

1. big boots and big jacket emo bf who you era limji fits yes these are one i dont care if the outfits are different hes an entity i couldn't find a pic of him in his red jacket fit but that one too

2. bnt international/nylon photoshoot gentle handsome himbo bf with pretty necklaces striped shirt curly hair loml i am still mad abt the behind shoot being taken down fuck u plan a/play m/ist . the other two fits from this shoot also but this one is the most important

3. man who cannot rollerskate even a little man who is fighting for his life to stand for 4 seconds man who will never rollerskate again man who is a baby deer on skates and will die being clowned about it

4. anything where he is in this stupid fucking misbhv shirt it ruined my life these pics r so so so cute but any stage where hes wearing this especially ruined my life (real)

5. ur so lucky tumblr has a photo limit on posts or else I would have gone so ham. anyways handsome pretty gorgeous cafe date bf limji 2nd pic has been my phone background since it dropped I will never change it it is the perfect limji pic and perfect limji phone background pic .

honorable mentions go to: the goodbye stage from the fan limji, leopard print shirt limji, those pics of him in that white t-shirt w the little heart where his waist looks insanely tiny and his shoulders r so broad, the pics of him in front of the elevator in the sleeveless vest from damage era and the pic in the same place from reload era where he looks insanely beefy, the entirety of the marie claire shoot, those floral teasers from tick tock era, that pic of him in his fluffy blue sweater from the time he posted after not having posted for EIGHT MONTHS and i went insane, and that one fansign where he looks gigantic in his white shirt and jeans and suspenders and someone put a little tiger hair clip in his hair. there are definitely more. how could u do this to me millie

ask me my 'top 5' anything!!

#long post #millie making me choose between limji fits is so torturous for me (head of aejung nation) like how cld i #u*#iriphobia.....#asks #millie

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caramelcuppaccino · 2 years

Note

Ok wifey, wisteria, loml here it goes~~~

To start off, another pic of Rübe I found, low quality photo of a high quality bun <3 rip

Now let's see....after Rübe died (😔) we bought another bunny and he and our female bunny had bunbuns

These are the parents

And these are the children 😫💘

We named them Batman, Freddie and Finchen and look at Batman, doesn't he look super similar to the one in the video you sent??

Anyway how can I thank you for bringing back so many joyful memories my love, just know that I think about you at any given moment😭💕💝

oh dear lord i have been blessed so many bunnies and my lovely lovely rose hi my baby

omg rübe the best boy 🥺🥺 hi rübe look how fluffy he is</3 rip rübe i'm sure you and my kittens and family dog are having fun up there 💓💓

OH MY GOD A BUNNY COUPLE ARE YOU KIDDING ME THE WORLD IS HEALING FLOWERS ARE BLOOMING LOOK AT THEM A BUNNY COUPLE THAT MADE MORE BUNNIES I AM GONNA CRY

they are so cute and look at their babies omg fluffs everywhere no i can't take it anymore batman freddie and finchen ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ they are perfect PER FECT

and the pic where one of them is standing up omg and the bums THE BUMS i wanna kith and pet their lovely lovely foreheads but the bums ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ

omg it does btw batman the best boy

you can thank me by just being happy lovely and thank you for sharing these with me you also made my day<3 never forget that i also think about you allll the time ( ꈍᴗꈍ) here a very cheesy kiss 💋

#beloved wifey loml babe of mine #i might change ur tag #i have new and better nicknames #lunlunreplies

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lannisterdaddyissues · 2 years

Note

1, 9, 10, 11, 20 and 25 for the top gun ask game!

- finite-skies

AAAAAAAAAAAAA @finite-skies TYSM FOR SENDING THESE ASKS BESTIE ILY!!! 🥺🥺🥺

1. Who’s your favorite character & why are they your fave? oh i think we all know the answer to this one, but i'll say it anyway: maverick! nobody even comes close to him in my eyes. i just love him. i love everything about him. if you want the short answer for why i love him, he is my scrunkly. he is my firstborn son. he is my sweet angel baby whom i offer my life. in my head i commit hate crimes against anyone who does not enjoy him the way i do. he is wonderful and perfect and deserves to be loved unconditionally by everyone and everything. also he is played by the loml tommy cruise 'nuff said <3

the long answer though is that he is just such a great main character. he has all the qualities that i find compelling in a protagonist. he's cool, badass, and confident both in his abilities and in himself as a person. these are both good qualities and bad qualities: on the one hand, he has total conviction in his beliefs and will do anything to defend them to people who try to curtail him (good), but on the other, he tends to be an attention-seeking showboat which can cause unnecessary troubles for others (bad). he has the complex backstory that everyone loves to read about, and it sets him apart from everyone else from the very beginning. that isolation gives him an extra layer of depth that's hard to see on the surface, but it's certainly there. i love his growth in the first movie after the trauma of goose's death and i love seeing his journey towards closure and acceptance in top gun: maverick.

tl;dr, pete "maverick" mitchell is my sopping wet little purse dog. thank you for listening to my ted talk. you did not ask for this but you may have it all the same.

9. What’s your favorite scene in either movie? ooh, man. there are a lot of those, but i think it has to be the scene in top gun: maverick where he flies the mission in 2:15 because that was such a sick power move like mans' dick game is huge

10. Favorite part of the soundtrack from either movie? i love the man, the legend / touchdown from top gun: maverick! i've listened to it so many times. from the original, it's definitely danger zone by kenny loggins by a long shot. he's one of my favorite artists!

11. Do you prefer the original Top Gun or Top Gun: Maverick? this is a really tough question! i enjoy the characters in the original a lot more, but i really love the story and the action in the sequel. therefore i choose option c) both! <3

20. Is there anything you’d delete from canon? either the charliemav sex scene bc wtf was that or the off-screen falling-out between mav and bradley because it hurts me to think of mav being sad and lonely all those years (except for ice, of course)

25. Are there any other canons you’d like to see Top Gun have a crossover with? i'd say mission: impossible but i'm already writing it 😎! for other possible crossovers, this one is waaaayyyy out there but i recently started watching westworld and ed harris plays a main antagonist in it and now i keep asking myself, "is this what the man in black [his character] does when he's not shooting up androids in westworld? he's a navy admiral?" LOL. however for a real answer i think a crossover with kiss kiss bang bang would be so funny because val kilmer also plays a mean gay guy in it and his "love interest" is also a doe-eyed brunette twink. you can't convince me tom kazansky doesn't also have an identical twin now. he's also in a polycule with michelle monaghan and she played tom cruise's wife in mission: impossible 3 which is just. hilarious to me

#thank you so much for these asks bestie you're the best <3 #ask #reply #finite-skies #mutual #fandom ask

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noyasboxdye · 3 years

Text

it's kita's bday today and i havent seen a single thing abt him on the dashboard :/

say happy birthday or stub ur toe >:( /hj

#noyas.birthday.wishes <3 #kita is soft and pretty and luxurious and perfect #he's so slept on it physically PAINS me T-T #anyways #happy birthday to the loml #my baby father🥰#my hubby #and s much more #kita shinsuke #now sing him happy birthday :/

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cinnaminsvga · 3 years

Text

Undercover (M)

→ summary: the company banquets that your family loves to host are often drearier than you would like them to be. lucky for you, your bodyguards have the perfect solution: why don’t you play a little game with them?

the only rule? you must keep quiet at all costs.

→ pairing: vamp!jungkook x reader x siren!seokjin → genre: bodyguard!au, supernatural, smut → warnings: dom!jin, switch!kook, sub!reader, remote vibrator, rough public sex, fingering, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, blood-drinking, hypnotization, jin is kinda sadistic, basically pwp ;_; → words: 5.4K → a/n: this is for the holiday fic exchange that was held on @btsghostiewritersnet!! my fic is dedicated to ms @jincherie (aka the loml and also the recipient of 1/3 of the fics i’ve written this year??) who requested this prompt. i’m not really good with poly or smut fics, but i tried my best??? it ended up being a lil more jk centric than i anticipated but HHHH IDK I JUST HOPE YOU LIKE THIS EVEN A TEENY BIT ;o; anyway... happy holidays everyone!!

You can feel their eyes on you.

Except that isn’t much of a revelation—they are always watchful of you, after all. Your father pays a hefty enough salary that they would risk their lives to keep you safe, so it isn’t much of a surprise to know that they are lurking at the sides, keeping distant and close all at once.

This time, however, is different. You know for a fact that it is different. There is a subtle shift in the air, something tangible enough that you can almost touch it, taste it. You know that if you glance back at them, you will find two pairs of eyes, watching and waiting for… something.

That fact alone is enough to keep the goosebumps on your arms from subsiding. You feel like a canister just waiting to burst, a small disturbance enough to get you to erupt into flames and burn every last inch of propriety left in your being. Tonight, they are here to ruin you.

“Why are you acting so damn fidgety? Stand still,” your brother huffs after a while, pinching you lightly in the side. It breaks you from your reverie, causing you to jolt away with wide eyes.

“W-what?” you ask breathlessly. You wipe your clammy hands across your expensive dress, leaving wrinkles in their wake. “Sorry. I just… had a lot of coffee before coming here, is all. I needed the wake-me-up.”

He watches you for a moment, raising an eyebrow at your odd behavior. You can tell that he’s suspicious, but he inevitably shrugs it off, too unbothered to care. Like you, it takes a whole deal to get Yoongi excited about anything, and having a jumpy sister is far from reaching his quota. “Whatever. Just don’t cause a scene, alright? These events might be boring as hell, but dad has a bunch of important people here tonight, so you better get your shit together.”

You snort. “Right. Like when does he not invite important people to these parties?”

Yoongi rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean. Just behave, alright? I’m not covering for you if you piss someone off.”

“Wouldn’t have dreamed of asking,” you mutter. Little does he know, you are already planning on behaving tonight, anyway. That is the name of the game, after all.

On a makeshift stage at the head of the ballroom, your father has just finished giving his opening remarks, thanking all his esteemed guests for making it to tonight’s banquet. Polite applause follows soon after, the clamor loud enough to mask the way you inhale sharply in surprise. Your back straightens imperceptibly, your body going rigid as if you had been struck by lightning. To your left, your brother is none the wiser to your panic, his attention glued to his phone.

When the clapping breaks, you nearly speak your prayers aloud when the ambush on your senses suddenly stops as well. You take one, two calming breaths, your core throbbing needily as you await the second wave to hit. Disappointed when nothing comes, you smooth your dress down, fighting the urge to look around to see if anyone was watching.

Legs slightly weaker and breath a little shakier, you walk among the throngs of people as they make their way to their seats, getting ready for dinner to be served. Instead of heading to where your family’s table would be located, you change direction halfway and walk towards the back. Yoongi does not comment, just nodding back at you and going the other way as well. This is normal etiquette for both of you, anyway—your father has always expected the two of you to wander during these parties, greeting guests and socializing with them as proper hosts should.

Except that isn’t on your agenda for tonight. Right now, you have a game to play, and you don’t intend on losing your focus to anything else.

It does not take you long to find who you are looking for. Just like he promised, Jungkook is standing close to the east entrance, standing stock still against the wall in his designer black suit. When he notices you approach, his stern demeanor softens, a small smile gracing his Adonis-like features. It is nothing more than a quirk of his lips, but it is enough for a flash of something sharp to catch your eye. It disappears before you can even blink, but you know that what you had seen is far from a figment of your imagination.

To an outsider, Jungkook looks as intimidating as any regular bodyguard should be: tall and muscular, coupled with a dangerous gaze that could pierce diamond. He certainly works like one too, as your father would have never hired him if he wasn’t 100% sure that Jungkook was up to his lofty standards.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that there is something else that sets Jungkook apart if you just looked close enough. Even from a few feet apart, you can see the redness lining his irises, the deathly pallor of his skin, the sallowness of his cheeks. As you get closer, you notice other things too, like how his hands tremble against his sides and how his breathing has gotten shallow.

Everything about him screams vampire—a starving one, at that.

“How long has it been now?” you murmur, gently nudging your shoulder against his. You keep close to him, feeling yourself relax at the mere scent of him. Jungkook always somehow manages to smell good; you suppose that’s a given since you don’t think he’s even capable of sweating.

“Since the party started?” he asks.

“No, silly. How long has it been since you last fed?”

“Three days, seventeen hours, and twenty-one minutes, ma’am. But who’s counting?” he wheezes, offering you a strained smile. “Is it that obvious?”

“Not really, but I know you,” you reply. A little too well, in fact. “Seokjin hasn’t even allowed you a snack? Even once?”

Jungkook coughs out a laugh, amused. “You and I both know that hyung wouldn’t be that merciful. He did say that if I behave today, then maybe…” he trails off. You don’t miss the way he stares longingly at you, thinly veiled desire rolling off him in waves.

You feel the blood rushing up to your face, turning away from him in embarrassment. You have to remind yourself not to rub your neck, lest the make-up covering your fading scar give away your dirty little secret. “I’m sorry, by the way. I kind of did this to both of us, huh?”

Jungkook chuckles, snaking an arm around your waist. You shoot him a warning glare, but you both know he only dares to get comfortable with you when he’s sure no one is watching. Besides, it’s always been hard for you to get mad at the boy, not when he has always been so sweet with you.

“No, it’s fine. We all agreed to this when you proposed it. Besides, neither hyung nor I are going to risk our health when your safety is on the line. It’s not that bad, I promise.”

“If you’re sure,” you say, glancing at him doubtfully. You have never seen Jungkook quite so… unhinged before, as if he’s just a step away from teetering off the edge. It scares you just as much as it arouses you, but you make sure to keep that to yourself. “I honestly didn’t think Seokjin would be this ruthless.”

Jungkook snorts. “I’ve known him for a long time, Y/N. Trust me when I say that he is definitely going easy on us, especially you.”

“If this is easy, I’m afraid to know how he’s like when he goes all out then,” you say, but the thought of Seokjin becoming even more merciless than usual sends an excited shiver down your spine.

“How about you?” Jungkook asks. “Are you doing okay with the, um, you know?” He flushes, still shy to even say it aloud even after all the things the two of you have done together.

You giggle, unable to resist the urge to tease him. “You tell me, Koo. You can smell me, can’t you?” You lean closer, looking at him through your lashes. “You could probably smell from across the ballroom, especially with how hungry you are… My poor baby,” you coo. You have your chest pressed against his, your low neckline leaving nothing to the imagination. And yet, his gaze is fixed elsewhere, red eyes following the way your tongue darts out to lick your lips.

It’s a rhetorical question; you know he can smell you. The remote vibrator in your underwear has been on the lowest setting ever since the night started. The vibrations are persistent enough to keep you constantly aroused, but it’s never enough to give you what you really want.

And just when you think you’ve gotten used to the sensation, Seokjin will spike it up occasionally, causing your composure to crack ever so slightly. You’re pretty sure he hasn’t turned it on to the highest setting yet, but judging from how the dampness of your underwear has seeped past your thighs, you aren’t sure if you’d be able to keep your cool if he did.

“Do I smell good, Koo? I know you said my blood tastes sweetest when I’m like this, right?” you whisper, trailing a finger down his chest. He does not reply, his nostrils flaring as he struggles to control his breathing. He has a dangerous edge in his expression, a simmering darkness just begging to be released. It’s the kind of lust that sweet and lovely Jungkook hardly ever has the capability of showcasing, except during moments like these, when he is at his hungriest and most desperate.

“I’m not going to lose the game this early on,” he says, voice quiet. There is danger in still waters, you recall your mother telling you when you were younger, and you find that there is truth behind her words after all. Jungkook may sound calm, but the edge in his tone is laced with meaning.

“No fun,” you laugh.

As if on cue, your own dose of karma hits you when Seokjin decides to turn the vibrator up to its maximum setting. “Shit,” you gasp, barely holding back your moans. You nearly double over, mostly from shock, not expecting the intensity of the vibrations. You feel your legs turn to jelly, your body heating up and breaking out into a sweat. You have to lean against Jungkook for support, your grip on his biceps so tight that you’re afraid that you might have torn through the fabric. If he had been human, you might have worried that you were hurting him.

Jungkook stumbles slightly against your weight, surprising the both of you as he’s normally as sturdy as a brick wall. Your worry for Jungkook supersedes the lust addling your brain long enough to wonder if his blood fast is starting to affect him.

“S-sorry, Koo. Are you okay? Are you getting dizzy from hunger?” you ask, your words stilted and breathy as you try to ignore the pleasure coursing through your veins. “We can go somewhere and—fuckfuckfuck—”

You are unable to finish your sentence, having to muffle your moans by biting into his shoulder. You’re shaking and panting, the relentless assault on your clit causing a fresh wave of arousal to drip down your cunt and ruin your panties even further. The coil inside of you is close to snapping, your long-awaited climax just inches away. You have half a mind to reach under your dress and chase after your high, but the sensible part of you reminds you that you are still at a public event—your father’s public event, to be exact. So instead, you wrap your arms around Jungkook to restrain yourself, looking to all the world as if you were just two lovers in an embrace.

Just as you’re about to finish, the vibrator shuts off completely, snatching away any hopes of you coming. You want to scream in frustration, a few tears threatening to fall as you squeeze your eyes tightly. Eventually, you release your death grip on Jungkook, keeping your head bowed to hide the way you’re still short for breath. When you feel less hazy, you take a shaky step away from him while muttering apologies to Jungkook.

“S-sorry about that. So much for Seokjin going easy on me, huh? I really didn’t expect him to pull a fast one on me like that—”

When Jungkook doesn’t respond, you turn back to face him. “O-oh,” you whisper lamely, your blood heating up when your gaze meets his. “Jungkook?” you call out, though you don’t think he’ll be up for much conversation right now.

You have never quite seen him like this before. His eyes have started glowing red, so much so that there’s barely a sliver of white remaining. His fangs have extended far past what should have been humanly possible, its sharp tips puncturing his bottom lip. He doesn’t even appear to be moving, not even showing any signs that he might have been breathing at all.

“Jungkook,” you repeat. You tug on his sleeve hesitantly, but he stands as still as a statue. “Jungkook, get a hold of yourself!” It takes you a few moments of coaxing and shaking before some semblance of lucidity returns to him.

He blinks a few times, but his incisors have yet to retract. “Sorry,” he grunts, bringing a hand up to his face. He rubs at his eyes, and when he reopens them, they’ve stopped glowing. His irises are still a deep shade of red. “Sorry, I didn’t think I’d lose myself there. That’s never happened before.”

“You were kinda scary there for a second,” you laugh nervously. “Almost like you were going to eat me alive.”

“I honestly might have,” Jungkook admits. “If Seokjin hadn’t stopped you from coming right then, I might have just fed from you right in the open.”

You shiver. You kind of hate yourself for liking the sound of that, even if it was hypothetical. Your bodyguards wouldn’t risk your reputation like that. For a moment, it almost could have been real though, your mind unhelpfully supplies.

“You would’ve lost the game then,” you say instead.

Jungkook chuckles weakly, shaking his head. “You, Seokjin, and I already knew from the start that if anyone was going to lose, it was always going to be me.”

“Conceding defeat, then?” you ask. You press your thighs together in anticipation, catching the way he watches your movements like a predator awaiting its prey. “Is anyone watching us?”

With your back facing the party, you would never have known if anyone was close enough to hear your strangled moans back then. Ever the attentive bodyguard despite hunger and lust clouding his mind, Jungkook had still made sure that the two of you were far away enough from prying eyes. Well, with the exception of one.

“He was watching us,” Jungkook mumbles. You don’t turn to look when he points somewhere behind you. “He’s by the northwest entrance. He was watching us the whole time, but now he’s talking to your brother’s bodyguard.”

“How much do you wanna bet he won’t notice us sneaking out?” you ask, giggling when Jungkook gives you an incredulous look. “What? Didn’t you once say you could sneak me out of anywhere without my father knowing?”

“Your father and Kim Seokjin are two different people in two different leagues,” he points out. He glances at Seokjin once more, rubbing his neck nervously. “Oh, he’s definitely going to figure out what we’re doing the moment we get out of here.”

You shrug, already tugging him by the hand towards the restroom outside the ballroom. You wink at him, your giggles full of mischief. “Then it’s settled. We lose this game, and then we start another one.”

“Another one?” Jungkook echoes, following you like a dutiful pet. When you exit the ballroom, you find the reception area empty save for a few other security guards loitering by the elevators, surreptitiously on their phones. You easily make it past them and head to where the restrooms are, setting your sights on the polished wooden doors.

You push Jungkook inside the women’s restroom, locking the door once you both are settled inside. Turning to face him with an eager grin, you almost let out a laugh at the overenthusiastic gleam in his eyes. “New game plan. I call this one the ‘let’s see if we can get off before Seokjin catches us’ game.”

“Sounds thrilling,” Jungkook chuckles, but he’s already opening his arms when you walk over to him. You accept his embrace, pressing him against the marble sinks and slotting your lips together.

The kiss is fiery, all teeth and no finesse. He has one hand grabbing fistfuls of your ass and the other cupping your jaw as he holds you in place. Your own hands almost seem like they don’t know what to do, scrambling up and down his sides before finally locking around his neck as your mind goes blank.

Jungkook’s incisors cut your lips accidentally, causing droplets of blood to trickle down. They don’t even make it past your chin before Jungkook’s voracious tongue is already lapping it up, his groans echoing in the vastly large room.

You barely register the pain before Jungkook is offering another distraction in the form of his lips trailing down to your jaw until he reaches your neck, his breath leaving goosebumps across your skin. “Y/N,” he rasps, his fangs dizzyingly close.

Before he can choose to do anything, you trail a finger to his chin, forcing him to look at you. His eyes appear glazed over, almost as if he isn’t even fully cognizant of his surroundings. But when he catches sight of the way a fresh droplet of blood is already beginning to take form on your lips, his gaze hardens immediately.

You smirk, giggling when he groans at you licking up your bloodied lip. “No marks on my neck, baby. You’re gonna have to drink from down there.”

In any other scenario, you might have been concerned at how quickly he drops to his knees. He doesn’t look too bothered, however, as he bunches up your dress to your chest and tears your pathetic excuse for underwear into shreds. The small purple vibrator falls to the ground along with it, neither of you worried about where it is rolling away.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he groans, burying his nose into your cunt. You yelp loudly, sensitive after hours of edging. You unconsciously try to trap him with your thighs, but he holds them apart with an iron grip. From your vantage point, you can only see his eyelashes grazing your stomach as he licks two long stripes across your slit, nearly causing you to fall over had he not been holding you.

“Shit.” He leans back to look at you properly, his mouth shiny with your slick. “Can I? Can I please?”

You don’t even know what exactly it is that he’s asking, but you’re already nodding anyway, eager for him to do something, anything. “Yes, yes, yes. C’mon, Koo. Give it to me,” you whine. Your voice sounds hoarse to your ears, desperate and delirious.

Not one to disobey, Jungkook does exactly that. One moment he is on the floor and the next he is lifting you with ease, placing you on the marble counter and standing between your legs to keep them spread. He returns to kneeling and hooks your legs onto his shoulders. He caresses your thighs with a gentleness that seems out of place, craning his neck sideways so he can plant a chaste kiss on your inner thigh.

You whimper impatiently, nudging him with your knee. “Jungkook, this is sweet and all, but my pussy has been aching to be stuffed for hours now so I’d really appreciate it if we can just get on with the pro-o-g-gram—” you stammer, your verbal skills forgotten the moment his thumb brushes your clit. Your body jerks on instinct, his delicate touch like lightning on your skin. “Ah, fuck! Jungkook, please!”

You have your head thrown back, unable to keep still when he proceeds to push a finger into you without warning. He pumps into you slowly, the drag of his fingertips torturously slow as you incoherently beg for more.

“More? You fucking asked for it,” he grunts, adding a second finger and being rewarded with another chorus of moans from you. He fucks his fingers into you like a drill, the obscene squelch of your sopping cunt coupled with the sound of palm hitting against your clit is like music to his ears. He can sense the way your blood is rushing through you right now, pleasure thrumming through your limbs and making you intoxicatingly sweet.

“I can’t wait to taste you, darling,” he says, licking his lips in anticipation. “You must love this, don’t you? Love it when I finger you like this, even though you know hyung is going to catch us and punish us for this?”

You nod fervently, incoherent babbles dribbling from your open mouth. “W-want both of you! Want S-Seokjin to catch us and make us cry.” You gasp, your stomach clenching when he curls his fingers in just the right way to make your toes curl in pleasure. “Koo, I’m a-almost there!”

Your pussy, despite hours of being constantly aroused, still feels like a vice grip, selfishly sucking him back. He relishes your moans, drawing more sounds out of you that you had not known you were capable of producing. There is no time or space for shame as your whines grow higher in pitch, calling out his name when you sense your orgasm approach.

Jungkook feels feverish when he finally takes a bite from your skin, your blood made sweeter when you climaxed from his fingers alone. The meat of your thigh gushes crimson like a fountain upon his desert-like tongue. He is drunk on you; not even nectar can be sweeter than you.

He drinks for what feels like hours, lapping at your wound until he cannot stomach another drop. A blatant lie, of course, but he also does not wish to drink you dry. So with a heavy heart, he pulls away, leaving one last lick up your thigh to stop the bleeding. He slumps back on his knees, his head lolling drowsily as he looks at you with a satisfied smile.

You are in no better condition, your chest heaving as you struggle to regain your sanity after both the mind-blowing orgasm and blood loss. Still, you smirk sleepily back at him, your eyebrow raised as if in question.

“What?” Jungkook drawls.

Instead of a verbal response, you point at his crotch with your feet. When he looks down, his dick is completely hard, his erection straining against his slacks. He was so deeply engrossed in the flavor of you that he had not even stopped to consider his own arousal, but now that it has been so kindly pointed out by you, the need to be inside of you consumes him like a fire burning him on a stake.

A guttural sound escapes his throat, a renewed fervor pushing him to climb to his feet in an instant. Impatient, he struggles for a moment to loosen his belt, has half a mind to just tear his pants in two when—

“Jeon Jungkook, can you hear me?”

Jungkook stiffens. Unable to hear the voice coming from his earpiece, you give Jungkook a quizzical look, wondering why he’d suddenly stopped in his tracks. “Koo? What’s the matter?” you ask, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Jeon Jungkook, answer me,” Seokjin’s voice is slightly garbled by static, but the authority in his tone is unmistakable.

Jungkook swallows thickly. He lifts the small microphone attached to his lapel, bringing it closer to his lips. “H-hyung?” he stutters. Your eyes widen, realization and panic seizing you.

You both share a frantic look. Fuck!

Seokjin chuckles darkly. “Took you long enough. Did you and our little mistress have fun?”

“W-well, we—” Jungkook stammers, looking to you for help. You shrug your shoulders, equally as tongue-tied. He returns to his mic, “We were just, umm…”

“Open the door,” is all Seokjin utters before Jungkook’s earpiece goes dead. Jungkook rips the small piece of plastic from his ear, both of you turning to the door when a loud knock reverberates across the restroom.

“It’s…” Jungkook cuts off, but he doesn’t need to say anything for you to know exactly who is waiting outside the door.

“Open the door,” Seokjin repeats, but there’s a certain quality to his voice that makes both you and Jungkook immediately want to follow his command. Without another word, Jungkook stands up stiffly, his feet dragging as he unlocks the door to allow him inside.

“No fair,” you complain. You pout, crossing your arms. “You used your siren voice on us!”

“I wouldn’t have needed to use it if you two weren’t acting like a pair of brats,” Seokjin says, sickly sweet. He’s smiling, but there is darkness lingering in his expression. It doesn’t help that your lower body is still exposed, free for his gaze to roam. “Do you have any idea how much trouble the two of you are in?”

“I’m sure my father is hardly concerned,” you scoff, filled with false bravado. You smirk when his eyebrows furrow, keen to tempt his anger. After all, Seokjin is the most fun to play with when he lets go. “Besides, I pay you to look out for me, don’t I? I’d expect you to come up with an excuse on our behalf.”

“I suppose so,” Seokjin hums. He glances at Jungkook, whose prior arousal has yet to subside. In a flash, Seokjin has Jungkook backed up to a toilet cabinet, roughly grabbing his bulge. Jungkook wheezes, his eyes flashing open in surprise.

“And you?” Seokjin asks, using his free hand to force Jungkook to face him. “You understand that you left your post, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Jungkook gasps out. Seokjin’s grip tightens, and Jungkook releases a soft moan.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes hyung,” Jungkook emphasizes, his hips unconsciously rutting upwards. Seokjin situates his thigh in between Jungkook’s legs, letting the younger boy rock against it for a few moments before pulling back just as quickly. Jungkook whines pathetically, jaw agape.

“You both lost the game. What makes you think you deserve anything?” Seokjin asks. He directs his question to you, glancing over his shoulder. “Well? Did I interrupt something I wasn’t supposed to see?”

When you don’t reply, Seokjin frowns. “Answer me, Y/N.”

His voice is musical, and it pulls the answer out of you, unable to resist. “Yes,” you say, through gritted teeth.

“What were you going to do?”

“He was going to fuck me,” you say. You smirk when his shoulders tense. “We were going to fuck without you.”

At your admission, Seokjin considers you with an unreadable expression. The tension in the air is tangible. Jungkook has his eyes averted, but judging from the way his cock twitches in his trousers, you know he’s also aware of what’s going to happen. All you need to do is wait a little, and then Seokjin will—

He steps away from Jungkook and walks towards the chaise lounge situated near the wall of the entrance. He sits on it primly, his back straightened as though he were about to call you in for tea. “Go on then,” he says, flapping his hands flippantly. When neither of you moves, he quirks an eyebrow in amusement. “What? Don’t let me ruin your fun. Continue where you left off.”

“Um…” you say, thoroughly at a loss. This is usually the point where Seokjin decides to punish either of you, or perhaps drag the two of you back home for more adequate disciplinary action. Instead, he seems content to allow the two of you to do as you please. He has a mask of indifference on, and it’s always been a little hard for you to figure out what he was really thinking.

“But…” Jungkook gulps. “W-we wanted you to, um…”

“What? To join you? Oh please,” Seokjin laughs, a little cruelly. “No, I’d rather not stop your fun. Carry on.”

“But—”

“Carry. On.” Seokjin commands, his power trickling onto his words. At once, Jungkook straightens up, his feet carrying him towards you and spreading your legs apart. You gasp, the sudden movement surprising you.

“Seokjin, what are you..?”

“Fuck her, Jungkook,” Seokjin interrupts, ignoring your baffled stutters. “Fuck her until she can’t even stand.”

Jungkook shoves down his pants and underwear in one swift motion, kicking them off his ankles somewhere behind him. He situates his cock against you, rubbing the tip against your slit for a second before thrusting forward and splitting you open.

You both scream and moan at the sensation, your warm walls clamped around him deliciously. He begins his brutal pace immediately, both due to his desperation to meet his orgasm and also the magic imbued in the simple command given by Seokjin.

The intoxicating roll of his hips has your eyes seeing stars as he pulls out nearly all the way before pushing back in. He angles himself until he hits your sweet spot with every thrust, ripping ragged whimpers from your throat. Your second orgasm is quickly building before you know it, your body tightening up as he continues to rut into you.

With a trembling moan, you gush around him, coating his cock with your arousal. Your legs are still shaking even after you finish, your entire body going limp from the exertion. Jungkook slows down, still painfully hard inside of you.

“Did I tell you to stop? Keep going,” Seokjin utters quietly. He is the picture of calmness, his hands folded delicately onto his lap.

“What?” you exclaim. “I can’t, no, it’s too much—”

But when it comes to Seokjin, his word is the law. Between the two of you, Jungkook has always been more susceptible to his voice, completely powerless under Seokjin’s influence. And so, Jungkook resumes fucking into you, mindlessly obedient.

“I’m too—Jungkook, stop, I’m sensitive,” you cry out, but your pleas go unheard as he reaches between the two of you, his thumb grazing your clit and causing your entire body to jolt forward. Your walls squeeze around his cock in response and Jungkook trembles in pleasure. His ministrations on your clit, in tandem with the swiveling of his hips, are almost vicious, the sting both pleasurable and painful.

You can feel the beginnings of tears forming, the assault on your senses almost too unbearable to handle. “S-Seokjin, please! Make him stop!”

Jungkook is nearing his climax, his rhythm growing erratic and showing no signs of slowing down. He is unable to hear you past his desire, completely entranced and hypnotized.

“You want him to stop? Fine,” Seokjin says, amused. “Jungkook, stop.”

“No, please!” Jungkook lets out a tortured wail. His body freezes in place, his cock still twitching inside of you. The poor boy lets out a few stray tears, his eyes squeezed shut as his body refuses to do his bidding. He sobs, his voice cracking as he pleads, “Hyung, I was so close!”

“Not my problem,” Seokjin giggles. He gets up from his perch on the sofa, leisurely walking towards the both of you as he surveys the frozen boy with a satisfied grin. “That ought to teach you a lesson,” he says, patting Jungkook on the back.

“And you,” he says, facing you, “aren’t getting away so easily.”

You gulp, a shudder running down your spine. “B-but, the party..?”

Snorting incredulously, Seokjin taps his microphone on. “Namjoon-ssi? Yes, I’m sorry for leaving so suddenly. I found Miss Y/N. It seems that she is having stomach problems, so I’ll be escorting her home. Please inform Master Min about her early departure,” he says in one breath, shutting his earpiece off before the other man can reply.

“It seems like everything is already taken care of,” Seokjin says angelically, even though he is anything but. He bends down to pick up Jungkook’s discarded pants, handing them to the younger. He also finds your forgotten vibrator under one of the sinks, picking it up and placing it neatly into his pocket.

He smiles. “Get dressed, both of you. The night is still young, after all.”

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jotatetsuken · 2 years

Note

Heyyy Shyna!!! Congrats on 200!!! Thats amazing and I can’t wait to see you grow more!!

For your 200 event could I possibly request Daichi (the loml) from hq, home (edward sharp and the magnetic zeros) and a cottagecore aesthetic?

LYDZZZZZ <3333 awww thank you so so so much!!! you've been one of the chillest moots to talk to and i can't wait for us to interact more often ^_^ and sure thing!!! Daichi + cottagecore = perfect combination hehehe

Always in the Mood: 200 Followers Mini-Event (closed, slow updates)

“Hey, did anyone arrive yet?” Daichi called out to you as he entered your cottage while you were cooking an ample number of dishes for a soirée reunion with the former members of the Karasuno High School Volleyball Team. Wiping the sweat off your forehead with the back of your arm, you shout out from the kitchen, “no, babe. They have not arrived yet,” while giggling to yourself as you’re busy cooking his favorite soup. As he’s entering the kitchen, suddenly he hears a group of people yelling, “surprise!” as Sugawara, Asahi, Kiyoko, Tanaka, and everyone, including Nishinoya surprise the captain turned police officer. He rolled his eyes while you started laughing, “oh, your expression was priceless, baby. They arrived quite early.” Relaxing his shoulders, Daichi replied, “ah well, I’m not surprised. You guys feel like home to me anyway,” approaches you and kisses you on your lips, smiling, “especially you, my darling.”

#shyna’s 200: always in the mood 🎵#daichi sawamura #sawamura daichi #haikyuu spoilers #haikyuu moodboard #talk to aisha #shyna bonds with moots #💛 lydz #fellow Daichi simp #thank you so so much for joining i hope you like the moodboard

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mmvalentine · 3 years

Text

The Bargain Pt 7 | Feysand

Modern AU. Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 8

Rhys and Feyre sat on the sidewalk passing a tray of chips between them.

Rhys had woken up in a good mood. The two of them were meeting at the mural site, and on the way Rhys passed a cart selling hot chips and slices of sausage with a curry sauce. Not a conventional breakfast, but delicious.

Today, he was spending the day alone with Feyre, making a giant painting, and he that sounded like the best offer he'd had in a long time. In fact, they would be doing this for the next five days. He had whistled on the way there.

Feyre had turned up in these adorable little paint splattered overalls, with her hair piled up in a bun. Part of Rhys wished he was painting her today.

They were staring up at the wall where their mural was going to go, armed with an array of paint tins and aerosol cans and discussing how to start. On the one hand, when designing the piece they had taken turns and that had worked really well. On the other, it didn't make sense for only one of them to be working at a time. In the end, they decided they would lay down the base structure, and work from either end until they met in the middle.

When they finished their chips, Feyre got up and started pulling out reams of string and weights from her pocket to make a grid, the same way she always started. Then the wind picked up, blowing the string out of her hands and Feyre cursed.

"What are you doing?" Rhys asked her, the corner of his mouth lifting.

"Making the reference grid." Feyre looked at him. "Don't tell me you were just going to freehand the whole thing. Don't be a hero, Rhys."

Rhys laughed. "I was going to use a lazy grid. Use a gibberish reference instead of a grid, so you don't have to get the lines perfect."

"I don't know what a lazy grid is, but if it cuts out the straight lines, then be my guest."

Feyre put the string back in her pocket, while Rhys picked up a can of pink spray paint and gave it a shake. Then he walked up and down the wall, making big sweeping letters all over the white base.

Rhysand is a spectacular person. Rhysand is the most handsome mural artist.

"Hey," Feyre said. "What about me?"

Rhys didn't turn, just filled in the last section of the wall.

Feyre you look absolutely delicious today.

The wall now filled with pink squiggles, Rhys back down next to Feyre. Where she smacked him across the arm.

"Since when are you such an outrageous flirt?" she asked him. "I don't know," Rhys answered honestly. "I'm just in a really good mood today." He smiled broadly, and Feyre rolled her eyes at him. But he caught her grin before she turned her head away, and his day just kept getting better.

Rhys completed his lazy grid: took a photo of the wall, uploaded it onto his laptop and then overlaid their design onto the photo. Instead of having a square grid as a reference point, they could now see what parts of the design matched up to what curly letter on the wall, and plot the painting scaled up.

And then they started painting.

By the end of the first day, they got the outline and main structure filled in. Feyre used a broad brush for her half, but Rhys used a lot of spray paints to cover large sections. At one stage, he got so lost in the process, unused to having someone painting by his side, that he nearly forgot Feyre was there. Until he took a step back to check the image from a far, and realised that Feyre had painted Feyre is the most delightful mural artist along the bottom of the wall where his pink script hadn't reached.

On day two, it was Feyre who showed up with breakfast. Fresh pretzels and pastries filled with cherries, and more hot coffee. Rhys traded his aerosols for brushes and they began painting in broad sweeps of rainbow colours, in Feyre's style. He painted blues across the bottom, yellows in the top, and a stripe of green across Feyre's left ear. She shrieked and flicked purple right across his chest before she had realised what she had done, and then looked mortified.

"Rhys, your shirt, I'm so sorry," she had said. Rhys pretended to be outraged for a minute, and then swiped orange across her nose before running away from her and letting her chase him down the street before calling a truce. And leaving a handprint on her back for her to find later.

On the third day, Feyre brought a speaker and they had music to work to. They added shadows and depth, and the image started to come alive before them. A wave of summer rolling from left to right. And everyday Feyre and Rhys worked closer and closer until they met in the middle. They had been swapping which side they worked on, too, so that they could make sure it was nice and cohesive. Rhys started leaving tiny messages in the spaces he knew Feyre was going to paint over.

I like the colour you put here, he wrote in one section.

In another: This bit reminds me of picnics.

And then especially well-hidden: I never thought I'd see you again.

When Feyre found the last one, she said out loud, "Rhys you big baby you have me on Instagram, you can talk to me whenever you like."

"I couldn't," he said, "you were a client." "I'm not now," she retorted, "so you can."

And then she returned to her painting, leaving Rhys to wonder what he might text her if he did.

Day four was the day of details. They picked up smaller brushes, and picked out careful patterns, finer outlines, points of solid black and white. Highlights, dot work, and the points on curls and tendrils. When they reached the centre, and then crossed the road to see the full effect, neither Rhys not Feyre could tell which parts were theirs and which parts were the other's.

Rhys whistled, and flung his arm over Feyre's shoulders.

"I think we might be done, what do you reckon?" he asked her. "I think we might be done, too," Feyre agreed. "A day early. We should call Tarquin."

Suddenly, it hit home that if they were done, he'd have to go home and Feyre would a continent away.

"No," he said. "Tarquin's not expecting us to be finished until tomorrow afternoon. Let's just have fun tomorrow, take the day off and tell him it's done at the end of the day."

Feyre looked up at him from under his arm, squinting through one eye.

"Rhysand you diabolical thing," she said. Then she stuck her hand out. "You've got yourself a deal." They shook on it, and Rhys breathed a sigh of relief. He was sure he could make one day last a lifetime.

"Come on," she said. "We'll just sign our names on the bottom."

She picked up the brush and put her signature in the corner, and then handed the brush to Rhys. He squatted down where she had been, pushed up his sleeves, and scrawled his name in next to hers. Then looked up and grinned at her.

But she was staring at his hands with her jaw hanging open. His smiled faded, as he followed her eyes and saw what she was looking at. Not his hands. His arm.

And the coloured tattoos that he had inked there after she drew them on in sharpie at their last booking a year ago.

****

Okay but lazy grid, or doodle grid method is so genius. I'm trying to write but my brain is mushy today so if you happen to be interested here's a great explanation video. Anyway I know I've slowed down a bit and I wandered off to make some Jurdan there, so thank you all for your patience.

Also! There seem to have been a flurry of new followers lately so if you are new here welcome and thank you so much for being here ❤️

MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @ghostlyrose2 @highladysith @stardelia @feysand-loml @tillyrubes10 @ratabrasileira @live-the-fangirl-life @maybekindasortaace @annejulianneh111 @thebonecarver @rowaelinismyotp @loosingdreams @whythefuckdoiexist @inejsarrow @swankii-art-teacher @sjmships @courtofjurdan @teddytdr @positivewitch @thalia-2-rose @darling-archeron @rapunzel1523 @fairchildjace @philosophorumaurum02 @story-scribbler @allthecolorsneverseen

#feysand #feysand fic #acotar #fluff #mine

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missmonsters2 · 3 years

Note

I've been seeing a bunch of blogs do this & I wanted to do it with you cause you and your moots are fun!

Cast your mutuals as your favorite movies 😄

OooOOooOo thank u for thinking me and my band of nerds are fun LOL

Since this is a marvel blog, we shall do marvel 🥰

Wanda - @empyreanwritings bc the universe said so and I love Wanda and I love stef so 🤨 I can’t explain it but I’m not entirely unconvinced that Wanda and Stef aren’t the same person. Wanda is perfect, stef is perfect. Do you see what I’m getting at? Wanda is the loml and stef is my twin flame. I’m very amazed at how the universe and stars aligned that I’m loving both wanda and stef at the same time. Anyways, I would also k*ll a man for her. 💘💖💗🥰😍

Nat - @caws5749 I don’t think I need to explain myself. If I do—yes 🥰 If you need a dissertation, lemme know because yes x1,000,000

Carol - @katiesmcgraths / @agentnatasharomanov this armpit kisser is the funniest and the person I probably get along with the most. We’re legit such trolls together LOL legitimate assholes. We go back and forth from trolling each other but then being soft and kith kith 🥰🤡

Valkyrie - @natasha-danvers because Valkyrie is one badass bitch and also a troll and so is red LMAO like red will send you unsolicited f**t pics but she will also be super supportive if you’re going through it and if you’re being slighted, she will call that person out for you. My hero 🥰

Thor - @marvelfansince08love because thor is pretty and is so loz. I also feel like if we were to get wasted together, we’d break soooo many service sets together LMAO 🥰🥴

Peggy/Sharon Carter - @thewitchandtheassassin the baddest bitch of them all. No nonesense, will punch someone in the face for me. Also my first friend on here. I was so starstruck when Mick reblogged my work and spoke to me, just like I would be starstruck if peggy or sharon looked at me. She’s also hilarious, we have some good laughs together LOL 🥰😋

Groot/Peter Parker - @marvelsdc22 because these two are both so precious and so is Krys. Krys is the sweetest himbo. If you ever bully krys I will literally k*ll you. Plus baby groot gives me soft warm feels and so does krys 🥺

Maria Hill - @rebeliz777 just a tough cookie and loyal af. She’s got the work ethic that we should all strive for and she does the right thing even if it’s the hard thing. I STAN YOU SO MUCH QWEEN 😩👏

Tony Stark - @lesbian-deadpool I don’t need to explain this, everyone just knows I'm right and that’s final. Congrats Rachel, you’re rich now 🤑 Don’t forget about us plebeians 😌 maybe this means you’ll stop being stingy with your sweaters now 🤨😘

#mm: answered #anon #tag game #kind of

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letters-from-eros · 3 years

Note

I know you don't have rules for that already but can I ask for relationship hc's for Chuuya and Dazai with a fem or gender neutral s/o?😳❤

A/N: Am I foaming from the mouth for my first BSD request? Maybe. I hope this is good though. I added in a short part on how they asked you out cause I wanted this to be different and unique from most dating HCs.

Pairing(s): Dazai Osamu, Chuuya Nakahara x GN!Reader

Warnings: Slight mention of suicide in Dazai's, cursing

Form: Headcanon

Also: These ran super duper long I'm so sorry

You managed to cuff the suicidal maniac, huh?

Well done, my friend, well done

It took him so long to ask you out, and even when he did it wasn't planned. In all honesty, he never planned to tell you about his feelings. The excruciating part for him is that he did fall pretty fast, and realized he was falling even faster.

He didn't deny them, that wouldn't make it go away. He knew that. He sat and let it festered, hoping it would just disappear at some point.

Had the mindset of anything he loved he'd lose, y'know? Sad but so.

The way I'd imagine it happening is that you both are either working late at the ADA (with just the two of you there) or just at his place hanging out into all hours of the night.

Both of you are laughing at some dumb joke Dazai made and as the laughter dies out he feels.. Bittersweet. You make him feel genuinely happy, like there's no need to put on any mask or facade. That was not a feeling he had with anyone else.

Once silence fully overtakes you both it slips out of his mouth, purely on accident.

"I love you"

"More than suicide?"

"Y/n I'm serious!"

From that night forward you had the pleasure of being the partner of Dazai Osamu, with his feelings being released in an extremely cliche coming-of-age-movie way.

Okay, onto actually dating Dazai

Still goofy as all hell. Honestly the only thing that has really changed is the he lets you in a lot less hesitantly on small things. Its easier to put cracks in his walls, per se

Unbothered by PDA and will probably make out with you in public and not see why that isn't a thing that should be done or why you wouldn't like it.

(Just tell him if you don't, he'll get over it eventually)

Will kiss you everywhere, doesn't exactly have a favorite place, but where he does end up kissing you the most is your forehead for convenience. He'll kiss your wrist if he's holding your hand, too.

Clingy as all hell, always wants to be touching you in some way and becomes the biggest dramatic bitch when he can't be around you.

Kunikida will actually punt him if he says he'll die if he's away from you for another second. For the tenth time

No more suicide attempts once you two are dating, and doesn't ask for a double suicide with you because he knows it'll upset you quite a bit

He flirts with you like he's trying to get you to date him lmao he will never ease up, especially if it gets you bashful.

Dazai would NOT be dating you if he did not trust you a whole lot, so thats something that is pretty vital to the relationship.

That being said, please be understanding of the pieces of Dazai he keeps locked away to never see the light of day again and trust him just as much as he trust you. Its important especially if you don't want the relationship to be one-sided

Also with the high amount of trust he places in you, he doesn't get jealous easily. I mean he may get pissy that you're not giving him any attention but jealous is never the right word to use

Mf finally washes his fucking clothes once he starts dating you. Doesn't smell like the bottom of the ocean on a regular basis anymore.

Dates are always chill and rarely super extravagant. Park dates are often but Dazai's truly preferred date is snuggling inside, watching a few movies and slipping in and out of naps.

Belladonna is his go-to petname for you, of course, but he may bounce around with other petnames for kicks.

He will start calling you weird shit if you ignore him for to long.

Never raises his voice at you unless its in some joking manner. On the rare occurrence that you two have an argument he would need to get extremely riled up before he resorts to raising his voice. He tries to have patience and usually succeeds.

Dazai gets SO soft and SO loving sometimes, and it can be out of no where or something minuscule could have sparked it. All I know is that its nice and cute 🥰

He's usually pretty vulnerable himself when he gets like that so match his energy, alright? If you don't he might end up a little sour for some short amount of time and be more hesitant to get like that

10/10 Lover. This is by no means an effortless relationship, its a constant battle of figuring out boundaries, running into walls and respecting them. Dating Dazai isn't toxic if you treat him right and when you do? It definitely pays off.

(This got so long. I've had so much pent-up Dazai love and all around BSD love and I finally had an outlet to completely let it out)

HUSBAND. THE LOML

Okay, sorry. But this man is the love of my life, and he will be yours as well.

Took him a while to really figure out his feelings for you, or to better put it, it took him a while to label the feeling he had towards you "love"

But ONCE HE DID mans was practically whipped before you officially started dating omg.

You could notice the shift in attitude when he figured out his feelings. He got nervous, went stiff and blushy all against his will. Maybe a tad bit more snappy.

He'd try to keep his cool and then just eat shit and become a babbling angry mess.

After every encounter and interaction with you he'd end up overthinking all of it and when he catches himself doing that he gets so upset with himself. It's really when he realized that he won't be able to keep his feelings a secret forever.

Definitely started avoiding you when planning on the 🌈perfect🌈 way to ask you out and blamed work if you asked him why he was avoiding you.

Anyway, the way he asks you out was almost as calculated as a proposal.

He asks you to meet him at the port and dress comfortably towards the end of the day

When you get there, Chuuya has a nice place set up for you both. A blanket and a bottle of expensive wine because we all know he's lowkey an alcoholic along with a very nice view of the ocean/port.

Chuuya made sure it didn't radiate too much romantic energy to give his plans away; also, he wasn't that nervous. Once he gets truly determined to do something, he doesn't let something like anxiety get in the way of it. The idea of being rejected was essentially an afterthough

Made an effort to make sure he didn't drink too much and neither did you. He didn't want to take advantage of the possibility of you being drunk by the time he asks you out and he knows he himself has a low tolerance

Once the sun began to set is when he asks. Stutters a little bit towards the beginning but smooths it out.

"Y/n, I uh.. I brought you to tell you that I love you."

"Have you drank too much already, Chuuya?"

"No! I'm completely sober!"

It was overall super cute and unforgettable, just as he planned.

Honestly, being in a relationship with this boy is just 🥰

Spoils you so much. You'll deadass be dripped out head to toe purely in stuff Chuuya has bought you.

Dw, he has an alright sense of fashion

Don't try to discourage him, that'll only get him to buy more stuff.

Chuuya's short and the concept of a size difference doesn't bother him at all, he'll find a way to kiss you regardless lol

On the topic of kissing, his favorite places are your lips and hands

He takes of his gloves whenever he's with you and let me tell you his hands are the softest things ever. Albeit his knuckles are a little calloused sometimes.

If you're anything like me, you'd want his soft hands on you 24/7 and y'know what? Chu would happily oblige.

He isn't like the biggest fan of PDA but certainly isn't against it. He'd rather keep things behind doors as much as he can. Holding hands and small kisses on the cheek are very fine by him.

He isn't like the biggest jealous type? He doesn't become overly irate or anything but certainly doesn't take any pleasure in watching you talk to other guys.

Chuuya does have some form of self restraint when it comes to that. Him getting a lil jealous is one of the only things that'll have him completely make-out with you in public or smth

Chuuya is very snuggly and touchy behind closed doors. He practically becomes Dazai but a lot less goofy

Oh yeah he definitely rants about how much he fucking hates Dazai now n again

Isn't huge on petnames but definitely calls you them every now and again.

Princess, babe and baby are his top few.

Chuuya definitely has a morning voice where it drops 2 octaves and its just 🥰

Never yells at you, its pretty shocking. The only times he's ever raised his voice with you is when its very obvious that he's not genuinely upset with you. Almost for comedic affect because it is angry short boy Chuuya

One may think arguments are often with Chuuya, but they're sort of not. He may be a pretty stubborn individual but he never argues to argue unless its Dazai-

He always works towards and agreement to end the argument as soon as possible. He keeps his cool and will never raise his voice. You can barely call them arguments because of how much he tries to keep his cool.

When he's stressed or had a bad day he gets extremely quiet because he doesn't even want the opportunity to open his mouth and take it out on you. The only words he'll say to you while he's in that state is that he's stress and you didn't do anything wrong just to make sure you're not worried over it.

All and all? Chuuya is the best and there's no way around it. He has his faults but always tries to improve and be his best self for you :)

(I had even more pent-up love for Chuuya and it got even longer, whoops-)

#bungou stray dogs x reader #chuuya x reader #dazai x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #dazai osamu x reader #dazai headcanons #chuuya headcanons #gn!reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #bsd headcanons #bsd #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs headcanons #bungou stray dogs headcanons #hopefully thats enough tags. i hope you enjoyed my bsd debut

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aangsglider · 3 years

Text

my favorite aang edits

this is basically for you @aangs-love

1. he

2. one of my favorites

3. hottest being this says it

4. ONE OF THE BEST ONES

5. Imbalance Aang gift from god

6. my most precious boy

7. MY FANCY DANCER NOT YOURS

8. I’m sorry but-

9. No I am demanding

10. “I don’t see why I can’t do both.” I DIE EVERY TIME-

11. yeah he

12. he’s most powerful anti’s are mad about it

13. If he was animated I swear

14. I think not ozai

15. THE CAPTION LMAO

16. HE IS LOML GET AWAY

17. I watch this on a daily basis

18. this fits so well I love it I love him

19. THIS THIS ONE RIGHT HERE MY COMFORT EDIT FORVER

20. aang in the headband<3

21. how can one person love a fictional character sm

22. guyzyyussss guys

23. HE’S SO BEAUTIFUL

24. filled w so much love for him this early, might be dangerous-

25. KATARA KNEW KATARA KNEW KATARA KNEW THIS IS SO HOT I’M SORRY ZUKO COULD NEVER AND THE LITTLE ‘me’ ON KATARA NO THAT’S ME

26. ozai only ever had a beard so he could grab it

27. strongest inside and out

28. adult aang hi hello my name is-

29. the caption ahahahah but he owns my heart help

30. no no no this one. I can’t even explain the feelings I get from this. The amount of times I’ve soaked my pillow because of it-

31. he deserves the whole entire world :(

32. THE PAIN CAUSED.

33. I smile so hard because of him

34. badzazzz

35. is adorable always

36. the purest boy

37. overload of love

38. SOFT CUTE BB

39. just...yeah :(

40. BEST FANART FOR THE BESTEST BOY BUT REALLY THIS IS ONE OF MY FAVORITES

41. some more imbalance aang because I said so

42. AANG SHOW ME YOUR AIR MARBLE TRICK TY

43. believers in aang supremacy are the best kind of people

44. so anyways if you hate him I automatically hate you

45. what’s his ring size again?

46. I’m always gonna protect him ok

47. currently messed up I forgot to save so if I put an edit in here twice sorry but pretty sure I didn’t but anyways this>>

48. do you understand how much love-

49. HIS BEAUTIFUL LAUGH

50. I’m the sheep

51. this one kinda scares me but the au is cool

52. caption yet again I must agree

53. I’M GONNA CRY CUZ HE IS TOO ADORABLE

54. youngest air bending master ever ofc

55. enough sadness

56. RING?!€ SIZE?!/

57. yee

58. NO I LOVE THIS ONE THOUGH SO VERY MUCH

59. THIS ONE IS PERFECT AND THE ENDING PLS-

60. I JUST HAVE SO MANY GOOD EDITS OF HIM SAVED

61. he’s just goofy kid

62. HE IS HEATHER HEATHER IS WHAT HE IS

63. bye time to cry again

64. hello one and only boy who will will ever have my heart

65. where is this editor gone I miss them sm BUT YES ZUKO HAS NOTHING ON HIM- CAPTION AND ALL

66. gogogogogogogogogogogo

67. unfair that he’s not real it’s so unfair

68. JUST PROTECT HIM AT ALL COSTS

69. mwah

70. me: hold my hand, aang: I’m already holding your hear calm-

71. ALL THE PLOT TWISTS FOR THE BEST

72. twinkle toes vibes from this

73. THIS ONE IS SO GOOD ALL ATTENTION ON THIS AND ON AANG

74. literally everything he went through and still comes out the most strongest and happiest boy ever

75. the audio just fits soft imbalance aang very well

76. king shittt

77. major one and only comfort character crying yes crying

78. I WILL GO PENGUIN SLEDDING WITH YOU ANYDAY

79. Imagine thinking there are better than him...

80. guess what he’s the mc, he’s the title and shut up

81. DON’T TOUCH ME

82. THE YAWN KILLED ME

83. I’m soft I’m emo go away

84. the moving..aang...comic...moving comic aang :D

85. why

86. I offer you more imbalance aang

87. go tf off

88. babiest baby

89. nobody can ever take this edit away from me

90. I’m gonna cry I’m gonna cry I’m gonna cry I just unbelievable amount of overloading love everyday and it hurts IS THIS NOT AMAZING THOUGH?!

91. THIS THIS IT’S BRILLIANT. SOMEONE TEACH ME TO EDIT SO I CAN EDIT AANG LIKE THIS EVERYDAY.

#91 ok wow #I’ve supplied ye #aang #atla

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consumedkings-archive · 3 years

Text

THE LAND OF GODS AND DEVILS, a sequel.

—part i.

word count: 6k

rating: m for now, rating will change in later chapters as things develop, tags will be updated accordingly.

warnings: naughty language, massively canon-divergent, roman gets his own tag because he's a fucking nutso, canon-typical violence, established relationship that might not be the healthiest, age gap, domestic murder family. for this chapter in specific, roman likes to take things to the Extreme (i.e., "i'm going to fucking kms if you say this word one more time") but if you're here i imagine you know exactly what he's about.

notes: it's here! i know that most of my followers and friends on here are my friends through my far cry 5 content, but my return to the fic-writing world was inspired by my first longfic in a decade after watching birds of prey. you could say, perhaps, that i have a Type(TM), given that roman sionis lives rent free in my head forever and always. this is the sequel to my work carry your throne, though i like to think it's fairy user-friendly, especially once we really get into the thick of it.

special thank you goes to my beta and the loml, @starcrier; the first person to ever truly recognize varya for the wretched little beast that she is and love her anyway. thank you for being my beta and for loving my girl!

and, of course, another special thanks goes to @shallow-gravy, @vasiktomis, @faithchel, @tomexraider, and @belorage for being so supportive of my foray out of the far cry fandom and back into one that, in a way, brought me here in the first place!

summary: —by dread things, compelled.

roman sionis is the closest he has ever been to having everything that he wants; a perfect wife, a perfect family, a perfect international black-market arms dealing business signed over to him in its entirety. unfortunately for him, there are people in the world who would prefer to see him without, and that has never been a thing that roman has accepted for himself: being without.

(or: a fic wherein the devil spends his time rebuking sin.)

“If one more person says the word ‘chandelier’ in my presence,” Roman announced, drawing all eyes to him, “I'm going to blow my fucking brains out. Got it?”

There was a brief moment of silence that lapsed before the murmured acquiescence of the workers marked their return to their work. Blowing hot air from his mouth, Roman raked his fingers through his hair and turned back around to where Zsasz was watching him expectantly.

“What?” He demanded. “It’s my wife’s birthday.” Emphasis on the my, not the wife; it was not a favor Roman was doing for Varya, it was something he was doing for himself.

“V told them she wanted it.” Zsasz gestured to the offensive piece of lighting, which continued to haunt Roman’s waking and dreaming hours with its garish crystalline drippings and expensive bulbs. Ever since Varya had found out his fluctuating approval of the chandelier, it had been in and out of the Black Mask Club more times than he could count. Not that he needed to; he could very well put in or rip out a stupid fucking light fixture as many times as he wanted.

“Well.” Roman pulled a glass out from behind the bar, setting it on the top and dropping an ice cube into it. “She does so love to torture me.”

“It's just a—”

“Do you want my fucking guts on the floor, Zsasz? I mean it. Say the word and I’ll do it.”

The blonde regarded him drily. “No, boss.”

“Blood and guts everywhere.” Roman gestured widely with his free hand. “All over the floor. The bar top. You’ll have to clean it up. Maybe wipe down some of the bottles.”

“I won’t say it.”

“I don’t have to tell you how hard it is to get blood out of the carpet.”

Zsasz’s mouth quirked up in a smile. It said, without saying anything at all, no, you don’t. More agreeably, and with the flash of pearly whites and the capped tooth: “Sure.”

Roman poured well over what would have been considered the polite amount of expensive scotch into his glass, capping the bottle and setting it aside. It had been exactly twenty-four hours of making sure the club was perfectly polished and styled for Varya's birthday; though she was shrewd, she was so preoccupied with the twins and the lawyers and overseas business associates that she barely seemed to notice whatever was coming in and out of the Black Mask Club. He didn’t think she’d had a baby nor a phone out of her hands in over two days, and truthfully, it was starting to become tedious. Now that the twins were a little over a year old, they were supposed to be scheduling their honeymoon.

The delay of it hadn’t been a big deal, at the start. But everyday with you feels like my honeymoon, Varya had demurred months before the twins’ arrival, fluttering her lashes and gliding her fingers along the lapel of his jacket—and not even an hour after she’d curtly informed him that any more chatter, while she was nursing a headache, would be met with a swift and efficient extraction of his vocal cords by her own hands. Motherhood was supposed to have domesticated her, Roman thought, and had done the exact opposite; now, she was more assured of her status and power than ever.

So, yes; Varya had been busy, and he was almost certain she’d forgotten her own birthday. Never mind that everything had to be perfect. Never mind that it had to be immaculate. Never mind that Varya had deigned to order a brand new fucking chandelier from the same place they’d gotten one last time, knowing full well that he had made the executive decision to gut the fucking thing and get it out of his club.

“Tell you what, Zsasz,” Roman muttered, taking a swallow of the amber liquid in his glass, “don’t ever get fucking married. You want someone knowing all the shit that pushes your buttons all the time?”

“Maybe you just got a button pusher for a wife.”

Roman grimaced and took another swallow. It was true. “Fuck off.”

The blonde opened his mouth to say something else—and hadn’t he gotten confident in himself too, since Varya had become such a permanent fixture in their life, constantly goading and coercing him to voice his opinion on things, things that normally he would just defer to Roman on—when the doors to the stairwell and the elevator opened.

Eclipsing the doorway was Armazd, Varya’s hand-picked-from-the-batch-of-Russians-left-over-guard. Armazd had to be easily cresting six-foot-five, his dark beard neatly trimmed and peppered with silver, a scar breaking the color of his top lip. Roman had only ever seen the man swathed in dark clothes, like a fucking mourner on parade. His wife had been the one picked to be the twins' nanny, despite the fact that Roman felt like she barely did anything.

Also hand-picked. Thoroughly vetted. Interrogated for hours. No stone left unturned, when it came to Yuli and Ro.

“What are you doing down here?” Roman barked, coming around the side of the bar to make his way across the room. “You’re supposed to be going up and keeping—”

“She is coming down,” Armazd clarified. “In the elevator. Irina called to tell me.”

“Instead of stopping her?”

“She was—”

The elevator dinged in the hallway, and Roman quickly ducked around Armazd and closed the door into the club behind him. As soon as the doors slid open, he planted a smile on his face and closed the distance between himself and his wife.

Nobody would know, looking at Varya, that she not only barely utilized the nanny that they had furiously vetted and now paid handsomely, but that on top of juggling their twins she was actively in the process of getting a massive, international gun-running business signed over in his name. There was not a single hair out of place, not a single crease or rumple in the sapphire-blue silk of her blouse or skirt; the scent of her preferred jasmine perfume followed her like a cloud. She looked as put-together as the day he’d first seen her standing in his club.

And now, he desperately needed her to stay out of it.

“Kitten,” he greeted warmly, his hands—though gloved—immediately scratching the itch by reaching for her; they captured hers to carefully still her procession to the club’s main room. “What are you doing down here? I thought you’d be busy for hours.”

“Yuliana has been fussing nonstop,” Varya replied, her voice light despite what could only have been an expression of frustration quickly following, “all while I listen to grown men fussing nonstop at me on the phone.”

Roman feigned a sympathetic noise, bringing her hands up to his mouth to kiss them. “We have a nanny, V.”

“You know better than anyone else,” the brunette murmured, brushing her nose against his as their hands dropped, “that she is inconsolable without you.”

He tried not to look too pleased. “I’m sure that’s not true.”

“Don’t be modest, Romy.”

“Well, I’ll come up, of course.” He kissed the corner of her mouth. “And console our princess.” Another kiss, to the other corner. “So that you can continue letting grown men fuss at you.”

She beamed at him prettily, and finally they met in the middle for a real kiss—nothing coy, nothing demure, but lingering warm and just between the two of them.

“I love you,” she purred. “Go on, then.”

And then Varya pulled away, as though to go around him and into the club, and Roman blinked rapidly. He had only just caught her around the waist before she could walk in and pulled her in a full one-eighty until she was facing the elevator again.

“What are you doing?” she asked, a laugh bubbling out of her. “I was just going to make myself a drink.”

“Encouraging productivity,” Roman replied, hitting the button for the elevator doors to open again. “Ready for all this paperwork to be done, aren’t you? It’s been over a year.”

A year of wading through mafia-esque bureaucracy. A year of listening to Varya say, these things take time. A busy year, to be sure, jam-packed full of things—the biggest wedding in Gotham since its founding, the twins.

A funeral.

Roman tried more and more every day not to think about his (now) brother-in-law’s funeral, the double burial of the only man that might have stood a chance at being loved by Varya more than Roman himself and the only man who had ever been anything like a father figure to her. Family is tedious, he’d wanted to say, brothers and fathers and mothers, the whole lot of them, cut them loose why don’t you? Why should anyone matter to you outside of the twins and I?

Varya glanced at him over her shoulder. “These things take time.”

He rolled his eyes. “Mhm.”

“Not to mention, we were a little busy,” she added, eyes narrowing playfully as he nudged her into the elevator, “you know—having children.”

“And what beautiful children they are.” Roman hit the button without looking, the doors sliding shut behind him.

“Well, how am I supposed to suffer through those phone calls without a stiff drink?”

He quirked a brow upward. “I’ll make you a stiff drink, Mrs. Sionis.”

The brunette propped herself up against the back rail of the elevator as it whirred into motion. The corner of her mouth, painted ruby, curved and her head tilted inquisitively. “Oh?”

“Of course,” he demurred, sidling forward and boxing her in against the wall. “I’ll make you a stiff drink—”

He dropped his head to the slope of her jaw to plant a kiss there.

“—you’ll finish up with the lawyers, and put on the dress I bought you—”

Varya hummed and sighed sweetly.

“—we’ll go out to dinner for your birthday—”

He dropped his hands to her hips, planting a kiss on her temple so that he could rumble, “And we can get to work on baby number three, hm?”

A sweet laugh billowed out of her just as the elevator came to a stop and the doors slid open to bring to Roman the oh-so-sweet sounds of a caterwauling infant. Over the distressed crying was Irina’s voice, shushing and cooing dulcet words in Russian; he could see her swaying to and fro with a swathe of fabric bundled in her arms.

“I almost forgot about my birthday,” Varya said thoughtfully, completely unrattled by the sound of their daughter’s distress. She stepped out from between him and the elevator wall; Roman fell into step beside her easily, the sound of her heels clipping against the floor enough to draw Irina’s eyes to them.

Roman said, “I know you did,” and did not bother to hide his smugness as he held out his arms for the shrieking baby in Irina’s arms. The redhead regarded him with a sort of weary amusement before she acquiesced; with Yuliana safely in his arms, he watched Varya cross the room to turn the automatic rocker that held their son back on to a slow, lulling pace. The freckled infant babbled happily—ever the quieter of the twins—and as Varya said something to Irina in Russian that inspired the woman to depart to the kitchen, she absently picked up a baby blanket from the couch and wandered over to him.

“Yuli,” she murmured, waving her finger at the already-content infant, tucking the blanket around her “is that all you wanted, hm? Just for your papa to hold you?”

“What else could she want for?” he replied confidently. Soothing Yuliana’s fury had become old-hat for him at this point. And, certainly, it pleased him to know that sometimes, the only thing that would make his daughter stop screaming was being held by him. Not even Varya—who had taken to motherhood like a fish to water—bothered when she was in a fit.

Still, the brunette sighed dreamily, her finger captured by their daughter’s tiny hand before she said, “What a perfect little gem.”

Roman hummed his agreement. “Finishing that call with the lawyers?”

“Perhaps tomorrow,” Varya replied. “They’re in a mood today.”

“They’re in a mood every day.” Russians, he thought venomously.

“Yes.” She smiled, flashing pearly teeth at him. “But only today is my birthday.”

She had him there. Still, he was itching for the whole thing to be done—Ilarion had dragged his feet through the process of even drawing up the original contract, which had only been a spit in his face (“You are the only person who gets to fuck Varya Astakhova, that is as exclusive as it gets”) and by the time all of that nasty business had been wrapped up, Ilarion was dead.

Ilarion, and Nikita—leaving only a single living soul to be in charge of the Astakhov empire: Varya herself.

Which, she had expressed time and time again, she had no desire for; not in the public way that her father had done it, and Ilarion after them. She much preferred the clerical work of it all. Paperwork and public relations. Let the men do men’s work, she’d demurred one night, tangled up in their sheets, when he’d asked her what she was going to do with it. I don’t mind. They like me better as their madonna, anyway.

“You know,” she continued, breaking him out of his thoughts as she made her way to the bar cart, pouring herself a drink, “they will like you more if it’s you they’re talking to.”

“I don’t give a fuck if they like me or not,” Roman replied, lifting Yuliana with both of his hands so that he could look at her. “Isn’t that right, princess? Mommy gets to do all the paperwork so that your papa can spend all of his time with you, instead of listening to some dumbfucks bitch and moan on the phone.” He glanced at her. “Well, anyway, since it’s your birthday we can let it slide.”

“Very generous of you.”

“Get dressed, won’t you?” he prompted, depositing his now-content daughter in the mobile swing with her brother. “The table’s been ready for us since noon.”

Varya watched him, dark eyes glittering amusedly. “And why, my darling, did you make the reservation for noon? It’s nearly six now.”

“Because,” he replied, “I wanted to make sure they held it, regardless of how long it took us to get there.”

“Ah.” She lifted her chin a little, lashes fluttering with contentment when he reached up and brushed the hair from her face. “Or else?”

Roman flashed her a grin.

“Or else.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

They held the table.

“Good for them,” Roman said as they followed the server out onto the balcony. The table had clearly been refreshed—a new candle, a new vase, a new bucket of ice and bottle of champagne. He’d heard the waitstaff whispering furiously among themselves as they idled in the lobby to be taken to their table; now, settled across from the birthday girl, Roman was content with the way they had squirmed.

“Quicker than the two-hour wait last time,” Varya noted by way of agreement, smoothing her hand along the edge of the tablecloth.

He scoffed. The only reason they had waited in the lobby for two hours was because Varya had asked him to stay for the table she wanted. If it had been his way, they would have left with a bloody warning and gone somewhere else. “I can’t believe I finally convinced you to leave the twins home for a night and we got stuck sitting in that fucking lobby because they gave our table away.”

“In my defense, they are good babies, Romy. Hardly ever cry. Certainly not too much trouble.”

“But there’s two of them,” he replied, “and toting two babies around is a lot of work. All I’m saying is, what’s the point of paying her that much fucking money if we’re just going to—”

The waiter came by the table, clearly a little stressed; the lines of concern on his face were clear as he cleared his throat and said, “Should I come back?”

Varya, perusing the menu: “No, my darling, you may stay. You were saying, Romy?”

“I just don’t know why we’re shoveling money into her bank account for her to be a glorified accent chair in our house rather than a nanny.” Roman gestured to the champagne bottle expectantly. “Open it.”

The waiter did as he asked, having been standing there uncomfortably for a moment during their exchange. As he worked to carefully open the champagne bottle, Roman turned his attention back to Varya; her eyes remained on the menu, absently twisting the engagement and wedding band on her finger back and forth.

There was no way, he thought, that she was putting off getting the business signed over to him on purpose. Surely, there was no way; even when Ilarion was alive, even when she had anticipated no further problems, it had always been, if you’re going to be my romantic partner, it seems only right you’d be my partner in business too, don’t you think? And yet—

And yet, Roman could not push down the strange, hazy doubt that occasionally flickered through his mind. He had always wanted Varya, had always found himself wanting and wanting and wanting more and more often, and Varya had always seemed content to indulge him. There was, it seemed, nothing she enjoyed more than indulging him. One more kiss, one more minute in bed, one more lingering glance across the room. She was the absolute pinacle of his hedonism, in every sense of the word, and had proven time and time again that she would give him anything that he wanted.

The business had always been for her and Ilarion. He wanted it, and told her he did, and she said, you can have it, if you like, but like in all things, there was a slyness about his wife—a cruelty—that he found endearing and dangerous. Dangerous, because it wouldn’t have been the first time he’d been on the other end of her cruel nature, playfully poking and unwinding and tugging the thread loose until she had pushed him to the limit.

Something echoed in his head, and he realized that the waiter was asking him what he wanted to eat. Varya had handed the menu over and steepled her fingers, watching him with dark, curious eyes and red painted lips, sooty lashes fluttering. A pretty, painted little snake.

“I’ll take whatever she’s having,” Roman said after a moment, setting his menu aside and returning his attention to the brunette across from him. “Something interesting, kitten?”

“Can I not just appreciate my husband?” Varya demurred. “You’re wearing the suit I like best, after all.”

“It is your birthday. What greater gift is there than me?”

She laughed, delighted by him—as she always was—and took a sip of her champagne. “You were away from me, for a moment.”

He watched her, gauging her carefully. Even I know not to drop my pants when a viper opens its mouth, Bianchi had said, just before Varya had unloaded six rounds into his face and chest less than two feet away from him.

“Just thinking,” is what Roman said finally.

“Hm. A dangerous past time.”

His expression flattened, deadpan. “It’s taken a significant chunk of time to secure your father’s business in my name.”

Something flickered across Varya’s expression. at the word father. “To secure my business,” Varya replied, her voice abrupt and cutting, her eyes narrowed, “in your name.” Absently, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She looked to be composing herself, like she’d spoken on a knee-jerk reaction rather than with thinking.

Then, glossy and silken again: “You know your patience means the world to me, Romy.”

There was nothing that he loved more than watching her pull back her venom for him. Drumming his fingers against the top of the table, Roman bridled his own irritation to say, mildly, “I’d do anything for you. Even wait...” He made a thoughtful noise. “Over a year to finally take on the responsiblities you wanted handed over to me.”

“Of course.” Varya smiled prettily, absently straightening out her silverware. “And we will speak no more of my father on my birthday, or any day after this.”

He knew what that meant. She phrased it pretty, wrapped it up in silk and velvet and presented it to him as unassuming as a doe, but he knew what that meant. There is my button, she was saying, there is my trip wire. Don’t push it, Roman. The name Nikita had all but been banned in their household, even when funeral arrangements were being made; any time he’d heard one of the lawyers mention her father’s name, there had been a sharp rebuke. Not in my presence, she would tell him later, I do not want to hear that fucking name in my presence.

“At any rate, there is nothing that I want more than for this whole process to be done,” she continued lightly, reaching across the table to take his hand. “It was always what I wanted, you know. Ilya was better suited to be a functional piece of the business; he was the face because he had to be, not because he wanted to be, and I am better suited for the nitpicking and the details. Being the overseer is much more in your circle of talents, Romy.”

Her words assauged something unsettled and prickly in him, the sweep of the pad of her thumb across the back of his hand returning that doubtful monster in his mind back to its slumber. He sighed.

“You’re right,” he acquiesced after a moment, “it is more in my circle of talents.”

“Undoubtedly.”

“I always got the impression Ilarion wasn’t happy with it,” he added. “Though you two certainly enjoyed making work of me that first night, didn’t you?”

Varya smiled demurely. “It was never meant to make work of you, only to make a good impression.”

“Hm,” he replied, eyes narrowing playfully, “but you enjoy pushing me, V.”

She looked pleased. She always did, when he remarked on something that felt like he was really seeing her, beneath the glossy veneer. His girl did so love being seen.

“Only,” V demurred, “because you so enjoy reining me in.”

“Guilty as charged.”

Roman brought her hand to his mouth, kissing the back of it before relinquishing it and glancing around. He would just have to exercise patience, of which he had the most; patience, modesty, and humility, all excellent qualities that he could participate in at will, at any given time. Without any restraint.

“Did the men get the chandelier installed?” Varya idled, snapping his attention back to her. He narrowed his eyes.

“I told you I didn’t want a chandelier anymore.”

She looked at him across the table, dark doe eyes wide and innocent. “I thought you liked how polished they make the club.”

“No, you little viper,” Roman replied, clicking his tongue, “Paolo has a chandelier in his club, and there’s no fucking way I’m going to have people comparing it.”

“Ah,” she murmured, “the drama of the chandelier goes on.”

“And while we’re at it, might as well gut that one from the estate, too.”

“There’s more than one chandelier in there.”

“Then the men will be busy, won’t they?” He tsked his tongue. “I know you dream about watching me blow my top, V, but I’m making an executive decision on gaudy light fixtures.”

A smile flashed across her expression, pearly teeth and delighted eyes. She sighed, almost dreamily, like there was nothing more that she liked than to be doing this exact thing, and with him.

“Oh, Romy,” the brunette said sweetly, “you are the only thing I dream about.” And then, almost as an after thought: “Gaudy light fixture terrorism included.” She waved her hand to dismiss any protest or rebuttal he might have given her and said, “Now, since it’s my birthday, tell me all of the things you love the most about me.”

Roman sucked his teeth, eyeing her for a moment as he leaned back in the chair. Wicked little thing, waiting to preen and glow under his attention, a feline seeking him out. Her little bout of cruelty before was already forgiven. He said, “We’re going to be here for a while, if I do that.”

“They held the table for over six hours,” Varya demurred, “I’m sure they’ll hold it for as many more as you need.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

By the time they got to the club, Varya was acting as though nothing had happened.

Truthfully, Roman preferred it that way. It just also left a lot of room to wonder—his wife was a talented actress, adept at smoothing his ruffled feathers out and not divulging her own feelings on the matter. And he wouldn’t ask, of course. If Varya wanted to express herself, she would, and had, quite openly in the past.

“I am so happy to be home,” she announced, gliding past the door to the club once Roman had opened it for her. “Do you think the babies are asleep, yet? I always miss putting them...”

Her voice trailed off, pausing a little as she seemed to realize that the club was cloaked in inky darkness, freezing just a few steps past the threshold. Roman let the door swing shut behind him, nudging her forward with a hand at the small of her back. He was met with some resistance; she steeled, stiffening against his insistence, before taking a few steps forward.

He said, barely keeping the delight out of his voice, “You’re holding up the line, V.”

“Roman,” Varya said, her voice pitched oddly soft and tight, “why—?”

The lights flashed on to a loud, unified cheer of Happy Birthday!; the club had been packed with vases of flowers, the tables donned with food and drink, and everyone worth their salt within a fifty-mile radius had made their way there. Not a single thing was out of place—everything exactly where he had instructed it be placed, and not a fucking chandelier in sight.

Roman came around in front of the brunette, grinning. “Happy—”

He stopped. Varya’s expression was not happy, or even surprised; it was something else, something that he couldn’t read, the pupils of her hot-whiskey eyes blown wide and the normally Renaissance-soft lines of her face sharpened and hardened into an expression that was more vicious.

“V?” he asked. Her eyes snapped to him, and for a second she looked the same way she had that night in the loft, her hands drenched in blood and the kitchen knife clutched in her fist with bodies at her feet: like she didn’t recognize him.

It took a heartbeat, but her expression smoothed out and she smiled, almost sheepish—like she’d been caught doing something naughty, instead of being caught being somewhere else. Someone else, more the wolf than the girl.

“The lights,” she explained, hands resting on his chest, “they startled me, is all.”

A frown creased his expression. He brought his hands up to hold her wrists, thumb pressed against her pulse point. It fluttered unsteadily. Unconvinced, Roman pressed, “The lights?”

“Just the lights,” Varya assured him. She tilted her head up and kissed him, one hand departing his jacket to go to the back of his neck—and when she kissed him, he could feel that strange little flicker of energy, like she’d been stamping something out before it could catch, but it still vibrated under her skin.

He opened his mouth to say something else, but she disentangled from him and swept around to the crowd of people waiting, beaming prettily and playing at bashfulness, as though she did not enjoy their eyes on her and did not soak their attention up like a flower did sunlight. Whatever had been plaguing her in that moment was now gone, and she was awash with attention and love, thanking people profusely and accepting each hug and cheek-kiss directed her way.

Roman brushed off the odd feeling that she wasn’t being as forthcoming with him as he would have preferred—no secrets anymore, isn’t that what they’d agreed on?—and instead waded into the crowd. Music kicked on overhead; chatter picked up to a warm humming around them; there was nothing else to think about except letting his girl enjoy her birthday celebration.

By the time Varya had made a suitable number of rounds (which tended to verge much higher than one, much to Roman’s chagrin—what tedious work, to share her with everyone else), she had barely sipped the glass of champagne someone had planted in her hand. She circled back to him eventually; like always, there was that pinprick tugging in the cavity of his chest, like they were bound by a single thread that kept them from parting too much and too quickly, and when she drew closer to him again it oozed relief, warm and vibrant, through his ribs.

“Sufficiently loved on?” he asked as she neared, hand reaching up to slide around her waist.

“By them? Certainly.” The brunette’s hand smoothed along his shoulder, the pad of her thumb gliding across the velvet of his jacket. “By you, though, not hardly. Not ever.”

“You are insatiable,” Roman agreed in a rumble. He splayed his fingers against the small of her back, tugging her in closer and brushing their noses together.

“Just for you,” Varya murmured, and the words brushed their lips together just a little—but everything with Varya, like this, felt like almost-kissing, enough to push him to some kind of edge where his stomach twisted and wrenched with want when she added, “And only for you.”

“You know I can’t resist you when you talk like that.”

She laughed, leaning in to set her glass to the side and curl her fingers into his shirt for a kiss; everything for a second felt normal, and good, and right again, the strange way she’d gone-away back in the doorway having disappeared, the dark cloud over her having cleared, her wretchedness from dinner dissipated.

And Roman kissed her, with the sound of the party chatter ringing in his ears, and kissed her with the faint taste of champagne flooding his senses when she parted her lips against his, and kissed her while his hand fisted the fabric of her dress and he managed out in a voice rough with want, “So you’re trying to rile me up.”

“I always,” Varya murmured against his mouth silkily, “want you riled, Romy.”

“Varya?”

A stranger’s voice filtered through the haze—the rose-colored one that usually accompanied Varya saying anything like she wanted him riled up—and Roman felt the irritation spike straight through it. He turned to look at the interruption at the same time that Varya did, only to find a young, handsome blonde standing just a foot away.

Varya said, sounding faint, “Maxim?”

“It has been a while,” the blonde said, and he sounded sheepish. “I called Armazd, asking after you—”

“Sorry,” Roman interjected briskly, fingers still curled—now possessively—into the fabric of Varya’s dress against the dip of her spine, “but who are you?”

His wife started to say, “Romy, this is—” at the same time that the man began, “I am sorry, my name—” and they both stopped at the same time, a strange little silence stretching between them.

“Maxim,” Varya said after a second, turning to look at Roman now. “This is Maxim. He is Artyem’s son.”

Roman stared at her, more to buy himself time than anything; she said the name like he was supposed to know who that was. Artyem, but it didn’t sound familiar. Almost any Russian name sounded like gibberish to him, and if Varya had said it to him, it had been in passing, an afterthought, nothing but a whisper of information passed between them before it was gone again.

Until it did. Until he remembered that the person Varya had thought was her father had actually been Artyem, that she’d poisoned him, let him bleed to death on the carpet while she had mentally checked out of the moment. That she had watched him die, but she had been somewhere else—someplace else, the way Ilarion had described it, very far away where she couldn’t even enjoy what she’d done fully.

And Maxim—golden, and polished, and clean-shaven—looked awfully pleasant for someone whose farther had choked to death on his own blood because of Varya.

“I see,” Roman said, even though he didn’t. His gaze turned to Maxim. “And you’ve—shown up without calling ahead?”

“I have been in Turkey,” Maxim explained, “finishing up some business, and I did not know how to get in touch—”

“Well, you spoke with Armazd, didn’t you?” Roman’s head tilted. “The man practically sleeps in our bed, I imagine he would have been happy to get you in contact with us.”

“Admittedly,” Maxim said, “I wanted it to be a surprise—”

No, Roman thought absently, venomously, that won’t do at all.

“—Varya’s birthday—”

“So you slunk in,” Roman elaborated tartly, “like a little street dog, hm?”

“Maxi,” Varya interjected, fingers absently tracing the stitching on Roman’s jacket, “why don’t you go get a drink and acquaint yourself with our friends? Armazd is just there—you see?”

Maxim’s eyes darted between her and Roman for a minute. He shifted on his feet, tilting and giving a little smile that might have liked abashed if Roman didn’t think he saw a little squirm of self-satisfaction in his gaze. Fucker.

“Of course,” the blonde replied after a moment. “C dnyom razhdyenyem, Varushka.” He took a step forward, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

Varya’s thumbnail dug into the lapel of Roman’s jacket. “Thank you, Maxi.”

Once the blonde had departed, linking up with Armazd in the crowd to get introduced, Roman straightened up from the bar. It was impossible not to stare at this newcomer—he glowed with an easy charisma, flashed bright smiles that were all teeth. Roman hated him already.

“Maxi?” he asked her, eyes narrowed, and Varya sighed. He waited for her to elaborate. Perhaps she’d say they had dated once, perhaps they were literally nothing. That would be ideal, after all. Ships passing in the night.

She said, “We grew up together.”

Even worse. Roman twisted a loose, dark curl of hers around his finger. “And you killed his father.”

“Well—” She paused, mouth pressing into a thin line. “He does not know.”

“He doesn’t—” The notion that she was keeping secrets, and not from him, coiled high and happy in his throat. He tried not to sound too delighted when he said, “V, surely he knows.”

“Surely he does not, that I did it. Only that it happened. And I will keep it that way,” she added firmly, picking up her champagne glass from the bar top. “Maxim was incredibly loyal to my father because Artyem was, but more than that—he was mine and Ilya’s friend. I’m sure he is missing Ilya almost as much as I am.”

“As we all are,” Roman agreed sagely, planting a kiss on her temple in spite of the dry look she gave him. It was hard to tell, to get a read on this Maxim. What was it he’d dragged himself out of the trenches for? Just to fly halfway across the world to wish Varya a happy birthday? Above all things, Roman understood that his wife was a desirable thing, and knowing that he kept her out of the reach of others was part of her appeal—but that much? Could someone who was just a friend want that much?

He continued, “So what is it that Maxim offers to the business, hm?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Varya demurred, which didn’t sound at all like the truth. “Artyem was the one who sent him out on jobs. My father kept things tight around the top, you know. If anyone would know what it was Maxim was up to in Turkey who wasn’t my father or Artyem, it would have been Ilarion.”

“I find it hard to believe you have no idea what your father was using someone for.”

The sound of delighted commentary drew both of their eyes away; Irina had come down, both dark-haired infants in her arms, and was walking them toward Varya and Roman. Murmured remarks on what could only be their cuteness passed throughout the crowd of party-goers.

“I am putting them down for bed,” Irina announced as she approached, “and I know you like to say goodnight.”

“Oh, you are an angel,” Varya murmured, glass set aside once again. She leaned in, pressing a kiss to baby Ro’s cheek. Yuliana babbled, and she sighed dreamily, “Have you ever seen more perfect babies, Roman?”

Perfect babies, a perfect wife; soon, he would even have the perfect grip on Gotham’s neck, throttling it until it was nothing but dust and ash. Soon, but not soon enough; he’d be content when it was just done and settled, when there was nothing else standing between him and everything that he wanted. Varya, and the guns—what an odd thing, to know that a year ago he’d set out for this and it was just falling into his lap.

“Romy?”

“Never,” Roman replied, smiling and glancing back at his wife, reaching and cradling the back of Yuli’s head. “I’ve never seen more perfect babies, V.”

Across the room, Maxim watched them. There was something about it that Roman didn’t like—the way his eyes flickered, the way he looked between the children and Varya, the way their eyes met and he didn’t deflect away. Like he didn’t mind getting caught. Where had he come from? What little shithole had he crawled out of, over a year after Nikita’s death and Ilarion’s death—longer, still, since his father’s death? Hadn’t he wondered what had happened to his father?

What are you doing here, he thought venomously, that you think you can just come in here like nothing? Like I won’t root you out like the little rat you are?

Maxim smiled. It was a polite smile, unassuming kind of smile.

Roman picked up his drink from the counter, taking a heavy swallow. Suddenly, the evening seemed to stretch out endlessly in front of him, no finish line in sight.

Nothing else standing between me and everything I want.

And he was going to keep it that way.

#birds of prey #birds of prey fic #roman sionis x original female character #ch: varya astakhova #ch: roman sionis #ch: victor zsasz #roman sionis/original female character #my writing #fic: the land of gods & devils #me sweating profusely posting this #i am really excited about this though and i want to really really thank everyone who has been supportive of me pursuing this!!!!#creeping up on varya's birthday and also the one year anniversary of CYT making me super emo #<3 <3 <3

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