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#But he’d held her wrist even then thumb stroking Marry me he’d said marry me and never acknowledge it if you do not wish but marry me as I
lunaicfantastic · 3 years
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ok but fr nothing makes me feel the way jaime and brienne makes me feel. no other pairing makes my chest ache when I think about certain phrases from both canon and fanon god I am deranged. they make me INSANE!!!!!!
#like the half a corpse half a god line and jaime thinking about her astonishing eyes and 'jaime. my name is jaime'#and a dozen quips came to mind each crueler than the last but what jaime said was simply 'i dreamed of you'#and also its yours. it will always be yours#and thats just canon!!! not even the fan shit that makes me crazy!!#like that one fic where briennes like#in a kinder world i would have deserved a better man than jaime but i still think i would have wanted him anyway#or that one victorian au where jaimes like lets run away together bc we've played along w society but good gods it isnt for us#or the same fic with the kidner world line where is says THIS#But he’d held her wrist even then thumb stroking Marry me he’d said marry me and never acknowledge it if you do not wish but marry me as I#should have married you that night and every other. If I’m to die he’d said (with her he had not) let me die as your husband#LET ME DIE AS YOUR HUSBAND!!!!!!!#also He could do nothing for her terrible pain but he would not allow her to die alone among strangers. He could at least do that.#It had been agony that helpless moment looking at her in the bed and he would have done anything in his power to help her and#so he married her. There is no way to explain that.#jaimes desperation to comfort brienne in the only way he sees possible gets me every time your honor he LOVES HER#also 'I just want you' he says simply. His voice isn’t sincere like Petyr’s had been; it’s sincere like he has never told a lie in his life.#and also just all of like weather that fic and clean hands just wreck me#just god i love this pairing no one is doing it like them!!!!!#the queerest m/f relationship on eartj#shut up anna
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delos-mio · 3 years
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He Looks Up Grinning Like a Devil
Just a short, sweet, **light smut** and domestic fluff Logan one-shot. It's been a long. time. since I've posted a one-shot. Needless to say, I haven't been able to get this scene out of my head (also side note: in this universe, Juliet married a nice man after William fucked off forever and she is happy like she DESERVES). So, hope you enjoy! Thoughts and feelings always appreciated <3
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He told you last night that it’d be a long day, but you didn’t anticipate it to be nearing 11pm and for Logan to still be gone. There had been days like this before, but you never looked forward to having to wake up as well as fall asleep without his warmth by your side. Logan took awhile to finally settle down, but once he’d asked you to live with him, it was like a switch flipped on him and he became the one to cling to you. Two years later and it still made you smile when he pulled you into his lap once he got back from the office and demanded to hear all about your day while he looked at you like you’re the one who put the stars in the sky.
You finally decided to say fuck it and got ready for bed. Logan said it could be awhile, so maybe it was time to accept reality and prepare to fall asleep without him. Face washed, teeth brushed, and naked as the day you were born, you crawled under the covers before picking up where you left off in the book you were reading.
Right in the middle of a particularly exciting paragraph, a shadow lingered in your peripheral vision, making you jump out of your skin and clutch your chest. Logan leaned in the doorframe, laughing to himself at your brief panic.
“Asshole,” you sighed out with a smile.
Logan was still chuckling as he crawled next to you on top of the covers. “Missed you, gorgeous,” he hummed, pulling your lips up to meet his, a strong hand cradling the back of your head.
“Missed you too,” you mumbled into his kiss, unable to fight off a grin. “I didn’t think you’d be home so late.”
“I wasn’t planning on it either, but you know once my dad starts going, he doesn’t shut the fuck up,” he sighed.
Clearly not wanting to elaborate, Logan pulled back to look you over, really taking you in for the first time. A playful look danced in his eyes as he hooked his index finger over the edge of the comforter where it covered your chest.
“You naked under there?” Logan pulled back the duvet just enough to investigate for himself. You simply nodded, eyes fixed on his face.
Without another word, Logan slid under the covers and pulled your warm, naked body flush to his. Your stomach did somersaults when his dark gaze met yours with that ravenous look he got when all he wanted was to have you. He ran his fingertips lightly along your bare spine, making you shiver slightly in his arms. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he muttered before kissing you deeply.
Logan still managed to take your breath away every time he kissed you. Even after years of partnership, you felt like a teen finally getting to kiss her crush. Every move of his lips was reverent, emphatically expressing how there was nothing else in the world he’d rather be doing. Despite having a nearly 16 hour day, Logan still smelled so uniquely him- that perfect blend of clean laundry and amber you found so intoxicating. It was a scent you’d be able to place anywhere and one you loved to have linger.
As your make out session picked up even more steam, Logan let his hand wander over your chest. His fingers were light over the curve of your breast, not in any rush to a particular destination, simply reveling in your smooth skin and holding you close. The little flicker of anticipation in your stomach was quickly burning brighter and you found yourself arching your body further into him. Logan just smirked against your lips as he realized what you were doing. His touch moved down your stomach, petting slow circles into your skin as he continued to enjoy every minute that he drew out your torture. Logan always did have it in him to be a little tease.
“May I?” he asked, voice low and laced with lust. His hand rested just below your belly button, one of his long fingers stroking gently down, signaling where he hoped to be.
“Please,” you breathed out, sounding much more desperate than you’d planned on.
Without hesitation, Logan ran his index and middle fingers between your folds. Your legs fell further open on their own accord, an involuntary reaction to his touch. When he pressed the pads of his fingers firmly onto the sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs, you let out a long moan that simply couldn’t stay behind your lips.
“Mmm, already so wet for me,” Logan mused, his kisses moving down to your neck. The short hairs of his beard tickled as his teeth scraped the sensitive skin under your jaw. “The most perfect girl in the world.”
Your breathing became more labored as he continued to swirl his fingers along your clit, knowing exactly the amount of pressure you needed from him. He let his thumb take over and smoothly buried his digits inside your heat, making you gasp and groan. Logan loved all the little sounds he could draw out from you using only his fingers. They went straight to his head and only spurred him on further.
With just a little twist, just the tiniest adjustment, Logan’s fingers hit that sweet spot inside you dead on. Your eyes snapped shut as you writhed on his hand, trying anything you could to keep the contact. Logan lapped over the pulse point on your neck, humming in approval at your reaction to him. You distantly felt him pull away from your throat, but your eyes were still screwed shut as you wantonly ground down on his fingers. As you moved, something tugged in the back of your brain that told you to open your eyes, that you needed to see Logan.
You slowly opened your eyes and Logan’s gaze was hot on you immediately. He held your stare, a small lock of dark normally pushed back hair falling over his eye. He arched an eyebrow and bit down on his lip. There were still times you looked at Logan and couldn’t believe this man- this handsome, silly, impulsive, sexy man- was yours. This was one of those times. The look he gave you made your stomach completely bottom out.
“Oh fuck,” you whined, feeling yourself on the edge of peaking. He knew it as well as you did. The short breaths, restless hips, and string of curse words all signaled to Logan that your release was just around the corner.
“That’s my girl,” Logan smiled, still looking in your eyes. He adjusted to a spot where he could take your earlobe between his teeth and tug. “You gonna be a good girl and come for me?”
All you could manage was a whimper and nod. He ran his thumb over your clit once, twice before you were clutching his bicep, nails digging in hard as you tightened around his fingers, finding your release and panting against Logan’s skin. As your breathing evened out, Logan gently pulled his fingers from you, cradling you close and placing a soft kiss on your lips.
“Thinking about making you come was the only thing keeping me going today,” Logan said, kissing your forehead.
“Well, you certainly delivered,” you laughed. You rolled onto your side and tugged at his belt. “My turn.”
But Logan held your wrist still, shaking his head. “I just wanted to do that for you.” You bit down on your bottom lip. “There’s plenty of time to repay me,” Logan said with a devilish smirk. You both laughed a little before he kissed you one more time. “Come on, keep me company while I grab a drink.” He stood from the bed and held out his hand, which you happily took. On your way out, you grabbed your robe from the back of your vanity chair to throw on, but Logan caught the motion from the corner of his eye. He quickly turned around and snatched the cloth from your hand, throwing it blindly back into the bedroom. “Please. Like I’m gonna let you cover up,” he tutted, rolling his eyes.
“So, what? I’m supposed to walk around here naked while you’re fully dressed? Just for your entertainment?” you teased, leaning over the island in your kitchen.
“Yes,” he smiled, swatting your ass as he passed by on his way to the fridge.
“You’re so lucky I like you.”
“Oh, don’t I know it, princess.” Logan grabbed a rocks glass and some ice before walking over to the other end of the room where he kept his preferred alcohol. “Jules sent me a picture this afternoon of the girls at their soccer game,” he said offhand. He was trying to sound casual, but you knew better. Though he never particularly liked children and certainly was never going to have any of his own, the minute his first niece came into this world, Logan turned into a doting uncle, always eager to show off the girls and brag about everything they were involved in.
“Did they win?” you asked with a massive smile.
“Obviously,” he laughed, taking a sip of his drink as he walked back over to you. Logan pulled his phone from his pocket and pulled up his conversation with Juliet. And there they were- semi-toothless grinning on a field, holding a little gold trophy with a soccer player on the top.
“Oh god, they look so grown up,” you smiled.
“Tell me about it,” he sighed. “I think we should bring them something this weekend for winning their season. I don’t know, like a new playhouse or something.”
“Juliet is going to kill you,” you laughed. “Uncle Logan is going to spoil them rotten.”
“What can I say? I love to spoil my girls,” he winked, running a finger along your jaw. You rolled your eyes fondly, but a yawn found a way to creep out of you. “Wanna get back in bed, princess?”
“Yes, please.” Logan led the way back to your bedroom, almost letting you in before leaning down to kiss you one more time. “I love you,” you whispered to him.
“Love you too,” he smiled back, shutting the door to the outside world and leaving just the two of you to enjoy each other.
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lubdubsworld · 3 years
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Better Man.
~~~~~~~~~~~~`Just to see you smile, I’d do anything. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Taehyung x Oc
Rated 18 +
Post Divorce, Getting Back Together, Second chances, Angst.
Chapter 1    Chapter 2   Chapter 3   Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Do you ever truly know what someone is feeling?
You could spend decades , breathing the same air, hands held , your fingers brushing ....connected physically and even mentally but a person’s emotions, they’re hidden away. 
You only ever know what they’re willing to show .
And yet, 
all of us build relationships, convinced that we know exactly what the other person will feel when we act a certain way. Buying her flowers will make happy....visiting him at work will take away that little bit of stress.
But sometimes, what we think someone feels, may not be what they truly feel.
And that’s when your actions, well intended actions..... end up with disastrous consequences. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“So....last night...” Jungkook’s teasing voice did nothing to ease the pounding in my head.
“I do believe you promised not to tease me about it if I drank two glasses of water, which I did by the way.” I told him firmly, trying to bring the words on my planner into focus as i squinted. Three meeting. Each two hours long. 
kill me now. 
“I wanted to ask HR to give you the day off but you have quite a schedule today. “ He said casually,  leaning over me to peer into the planner . I glanced at his wrist resting on the table, the expensive rolex showing that it was a little past 9. 
“ We’re planning out the Christmas campaign first and I have a meeting with Taehyung’s team in the afternoon so we can go over the contract see if they have any requirements and then the social media team in the evening at four to discuss promos and revamping the website.” I glanced up at him. 
He gave me a smile before casually leaning down, lightly gripping my chin and tilting my face up. I felt the brush of his lips against mine, fleeting and gentle. 
‘You’re beautiful.” He smiled. 
I blinked.
And then took a deep breath.
“Your wife...” I said softly. “ I saw her today.” 
Jungkook went completely still at that. 
“She was waiting in the lobby on my way up. I didn’t know who you were married to and I was a little shocked and also little upset because....” I glanced at him. “ She was my best friend in college. “
Jungkook swore. 
“Fuck.. I told her to stay the fuck away from my company. Did she say something to you?” 
i shook my head.
“I didn’t greet her because I wasn’t sure if she remembered me. And I wasn’t sure if i was remembering her right. i didn’t know she was your wife till i heard someone mention it in the elevator on my way up. Did you know that she and i knew each other?” 
Jungkook looked just a little guilty.
“When you first joined the company, she saw your resume on my cvomputer. told me a lot about you. She remembers you. Fondly. She wanted to come meet you but...things happened.  “ He shrugged.
Things like infidelity and divorces . 
“Ahh...” I smiled. “ Tell me i wasn’t another way to get back at your ex wife, Jeon Jungkook ssi...” 
He made a noise of protest.
“no... No of course not Christ...it’s just...I’ll admit she made me curious about you. She spoke of you being spontaneous and fun and wild and I’d seen you as this demure, elegant woman in the office. i was curious. I wanted to know which one was the real you. “
“Were you curious before she cheated....or after?”
“ Jang Mi...this isn’t what it looks like .. I’m done with her. She fucked my best buddy and ruined my fucking life...” He sounded pained. 
I frowned. 
“It’s hard to believe she would do something like that. The Aera i remember had a very strong moral compass.” 
“Yeah well, apparently, you can live whole entire lives with someone and never really know the person. Listen, do we really have to talk about my ex wife?” He asked, eyes shining with discomfort. 
I shrugged.
“I’m not fond of drama. I won’t tangle myself in a relationship that risks hurting a lot of people Jungkook. That’s just not the kind of person I am. I’m sorry.” 
He made a noise of impatience, shaking his head. 
“We won’t be hurting anyone... We have fun together. We like each other. We’re attracted to each other...that’s all that matters....” He said sharply.
“ If we were in our twenties , without kids ....maybe. But that's not how it is now. I have a son, you have a daughter and I think I’m not completely over my marriage yet.” I said softly. 
He froze.
“And i don’t think you’re completely over your wife either.” I smiled.
He glared at me. 
“Ex-wife.” He snarled.
“She makes you feel things, Jungkook. You need to sort that out before you start something new with someone else. I’m only saying this because we’re old enough not to 
He growled and punched the desk. 
“God, how can she keep ruining my life even when she’s out of it.” He muttered, stepping away from me and moving to the door. 
I watched him storm out of my office and bit my lip. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
By the time evening rolled around, I was exhausted. But the day had been productive and I was happy because the contract had been finalized, the theme had been decided and we’d also spent an amazing three hours redesigning the website. Although it wasn’t in my job description I had studied web design in college and the creative department always welcomed my inputs. 
“You’re in a good mood...” Taehyung’s voice was a complete surprise and I turned to him, shocked. He was dressed in a black t shirt and blue jeans and sneakers and looked a whole decade younger. 
I felt affection rise up my throat so fast I nearly choked. 
“What are you doing here?”
“My agent told me you guys were incredibly cooperative today. She also told me you were quite possibly the loveliest woman she’s ever met and that I’m an idiot to have let you go.” He smiled. 
I laughed, shaking my head and my gaze shifted to the small bunch of tiger lilies in his hand. 
I felt warmth bloom in my chest. 
“You remembered.” I said softly, pleased. 
“Thirteen years since our first date.  The lily to my tiger. ” He held the flowers to me and I grinned, pressing the flowers to my chest. 
“Man I feel old.” I muttered.
“You are old.” Tae grinned and i grimaced, before tossing him a glare. . 
“You’re supposed to say I still look as beautiful as i did thirteen years ago.” I said. 
“But you don.t” He grinned impishly. “ You look a billion times  more  beautiful.” 
I felt the atmosphere shift, the air charged with something dangerous and i looked away. Usually, this was when I would laugh and throw my arms around him. Pull him close and press my lips against his , slip my fingers into his t shirt and trace the skin of his back. Feel his hands on my waist as he lifted me up to twirl me around and kiss me just like that. 
How often had we kissed that way? Thirteen years is a long time to count the number of kisses we’d shared. 
We both stayed quiet, looking anywhere but at each other.
“I...there’s a reason I came.” He said finally.
I glanced at him.
“Oh?”
“The lawyer. Ms. Lee she ... recommended a relationship counselor”
I blinked, my breath catching in my throat. 
“Taehyung we’re-”
“Just hear me out. Its not mandatory and it won’t affect the divorce in anyway. its just something the court offers all couples going through a divorce and we’re free to refuse it. “
“Did you?” I asked. 
“Did I what?”
“Refuse it. Did you tell her no?” 
He stared at me. 
“No.” He said finally.
I exhaled sharply.
“Wow.” I whispered, feeling jittery and unbalanced. He sighed and came closer, reaching out to lightly grip my wrists. I let him tug me closer into a hug and held him tight, my heart pounding with anxiety.
“Mia.... I just... I’m not saying we should try to fix this.... relationship.” He said softly, eyes gentle and pleading, “  I just think this whole thing has taken a toll on both of us and maybe we can heal better if we get the help of a professional. Come out of this with closure. Instead of battling guilt and regrets everyday. Just ....it could help us move on. Don’t you think?”
You could never really tell what the other person is feeling. 
I couldn’t tell what Taehyung was feeling right now? 
Hope ?
Hope that we would fix our marriage....
or maybe hope that he would finally move on from me.. Maybe this whole thing was his final attempt to end things with me for good. So he could walk out of my life forever without any lingering guilt or regret. 
I would never know. 
I clung to him harder and somehow the pain of the entire two years we’d been apart, rammed into me at once. 
I choked on a sob. Breathing became difficult and I felt myself gasping for air. 
“Mia?” Taehyung’s panicked voice was the last sane thought that registered. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Are you sure you’re going to be okay? I can stay the night if you want. I’ll sleep in the spare bedroom . ” Taehyung whispered,  seated on the warm fluffy blanket that he’d managed to dig out of the closet in the spare bedroom. i was already tucked into the bed, fingers clutching the satin lined edges . 
i shook my head.
“I know how much you need your gazillion pillows. Go on... I’ll be fine.”
“i feel terrible. i pushed you into a panic attack.”
I waved off the guilty words. 
“You didn’t . i was already a little frayed and i guess i haven’t really been processing all the stuff between us the way i should have. i just got a little overwhelmed.” 
A panic attack. At the age of 32. The last time i had one I was twenty four. I wanted to crawl into the bed and never resurface. 
Taehyung’s gentle fingers , stroking my cheek brought me out of my own head. 
“I was so scared.” He said softly and my heart ached.
“I’m sorry i scared you.” I said apologetically, gripping his wrists lightly and stroking the skin there with my thumb. 
“I really want to stay. i don’t think I’ll be able to sleep if I go home right now.” He whispered. 
I bit my lips. 
“Okay... but... You need to hug something. To sleep. “ 
He grinned at that. 
“I’m old enough to survive one night without a pillow, Mia .” he chuckled. 
I flushed, sinking deeper into the covers.
“Okay.” 
“You don’t have to worry about the counselor thing. I’ll tell Lee we don’t want to do any-”
“No!!” I said quickly, a lot  louder than I’d intended. 
Taehyung blinked.
“I just... I realized that I haven’t been dealing with any of this...the right way. I’m so confused and disoriented all the time and I .. I don’t mind getting some help. To sort things out. Just for myself you know...without the pressure of trying to fix...well us.” I finished .
Taehyung gave me a wide smile before bending down and kissing my forehead.
“ Okay, Mia mine. Sleep well, and I’ll see you in the morning.” 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`
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onlydreamofmysoul · 3 years
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The Prince and The Pornstars
Chapter Four
Chapter four here we go! This chapter was weird because I knew exactly what I wanted for all the chapters after this one, but the issue was getting through this first! However then I had a brainwave and yay here we are!
Happy New Year my lovely, lovely people!!!
Credit for characters of course to the incomparable @lumosinlove
Finn
“I’m telling you June, I think I’m going crazy.”
June looked up at him skeptically over her coffee. “So you have a new job.”
“Yes.”’
“Working for pornstars.”
“Uh huh.”
“And you’re attracted to two of them.”
“So it would seem.”
“Who also happen to be a couple.”
“That would be correct.”
June tipped her head towards him. “I’ve gotta say Finn, when I said you needed to get out there, I did not see this coming.”
Finn nearly spat out a mouthful of his own caffeine hit. “It’s not like I did it on purpose!” He groaned, that aching feeling in his chest even more prominent now that he was actually acknowledging it. “And what am I supposed to do? It’s not like I can ask them out I mean for start that’s probably sexual harassment or something, like you know what I do for them.”
“So why not wait until you’re a proper makeup artist and you know, not doing that anymore.”
Finn bit his lip helplessly. “Because I want them now.” He groaned, dragging out the last word pathetically. “But it’s not like I could even be with them either way - they’re with each other!” He met June’s eyes. “And it’s not like they’re just messing around June, they’re properly in love. You should see the way they look at each other.”
“The way you want them to look at you?”
Finn flushed. “You know what? We’re moving on from me. How’s that girl you’ve been pining after for months? What’s her name again? Oh yes, Heather.” Finn teased, knowing exactly what her name was. He had heard about very little except the woman since she and June had met. 
The little bell above the door chimed and Finn looked up out of habit, ever curious to the goings on in the world. June was saying something back to him, undoubtedly sarcastic, undoubtedly evasive, but Finn could no longer hear her. No, instead all he could focus on was the fact that Leo and Logan had just walked in. 
He gripped June’s arm and she started at him confused but he still wasn’t looking at them. Leo had gone straight to the counter to order but Logan was looking around for a table and spotted them. Finn smiled weakly and June turned around to see what was going on. 
Logan seemed frozen for a minute, but gathered himself and walked over. “Hey Finn.”
“Logan, hi.”
June’s eyebrows rose comically. “Logan, really? Interesting.” She turned to Logan and held out her hand. “I’m June, it’s lovely to meet you.”
Logan shook her hand, blinking. “Yeah, you too.”
Finn gestured to the empty chairs around them. “Do you wanna join us?”
Logan bit his lip, hesitant. “Are you sure? We wouldn’t want to disturb.”
June jumped in before Finn could say anything. “Of course not, grab a seat.”
Logan did so, sliding in next to them and Finn couldn’t help but laugh at Leo’s face when he finally arrived and realised who they had run into. Finn introduced him to June and they chatted for a bit, about everything and nothing at all.
“So, we go onto set and literally everyone except James is stark naked, right?” Leo was saying, in stitches laughing. “And James is like ‘wait, what’s going on?’ except no one ever acknowledges it, we just pretend nothing is happening.”
“All because he tried, and failed to prank you one time?” June asked, tears of laughter forming in her eyes. 
Leo nodded earnestly, “We take these things very seriously.”
“Attends attends,” Logan added, still wheezing a little, “You’re forgetting the best part.”
“Oh my god, what’s the best part?”
“After lunch, James came back naked as the day he was born, and we had all put our clothes back on.”
The table broke into a fresh round of laughter, the patrons of the coffee shop looking at them disdainfully.
“Even Lily?” Finn asked. 
“Oh, especially Lily.” Leo was saying. “They may be married, but he tried to trick her too. She was going to take him down.” They all chuckled again and June checked her phone as she finished her second round of coffee.
“I think we’d all better get going before we’re all late for work.”
They gathered up and Finn agreed to walk with Leo and Finn. June was going in the other direction so when they made it outside the door he kissed her on the cheek goodbye.
“Text me later, yeah?” She said, giving him a quick half-hug. 
“Yeah of course, love you.”
“Love you too! Have a good day!”
“So… June seems great.” Leo hedged after they had walked a bit, keeping a relatively fast pace to ensure they made it on time. 
“Oh yeah, she’s the best.” Finn agreed, and it was true, he and June had been best friends for years. 
“We’re having a little party next week.” Logan said. “If you wanted to come? You could bring June too of course.”
Finn couldn’t help but feel a burst of confusion at the ‘of course’ but he figured that was for Future Finn to work out. For now, he had an invitation to accept. 
“Yeah, I’d love to! I mean, I’ll have to check with June of course, but I’m in. Thanks guys.”
They arrived at their building, walking straight in. The guy at the desk greeted them hello, even knowing Finn’s name at this point. They walked through the lobby and in the double doors, waving to everyone they came across. Leo and Logan both went to their respective dressing rooms and Finn kept going until he reached the makeup department. For the first time since he’d been here, Celeste wasn’t there before him, so he set to work organising the stockroom a little until she arrived and told him what needs to go where. And then of course, what sets and with whom he’d be working with that day. 
He organised peacefully for a minute before his mind inevitably went to the same place it seemed to always go nowadays. Which was to say he was most certainly not thinking about Leo and Logan.
Nope. Not at all.
Not one single bit.
(Okay maybe a little.)
(A little meaning a whole lot).
He sighed and tilted his head back, staring up at the fluorescent lights for a minute. It was like he had said to June - he was not going to do this. He was not going to start crushing on his co-workers. He was not going to start crushing on his co-workers who were in a committed relationship with each other. 
Never mind the whole fact that Finn worked for them. He couldn’t just start liking them this way. It felt morally wrong.
(But it also felt so, so right. Emotions like this - they could make you believe in fate).
He came out of the stockroom to find Celeste bustling around in a hurry. 
“Well, well, well,” Finn teased, “Look who finally decided to show up.”
“Désolée,” Celeste said, beginning to apologise before she turned around and realised Finn was only playing with her. “Oh you are wicked O’Hara. I could have you fired you know.”
“You could,” Finn mused, pushing himself off the door frame where he had been leaning. “But you won’t. Now, what do you need me to do?”
Finn headed down the corridor, delivering costumes, sniggering when he handed in James’ one, much to the other man’s confusion, then he continued making his rounds. He gave Logan and Noelle identical maid outfits (for different films of course. Leo wasn’t the only one Logan didn’t work with) and currently, neither of them were the wiser. Finn could have told them... But he figured it would be far more entertaining for them to figure out on their own. 
It was going to be busy today; he was working with Logan first, then Leo and he would be going back and forth between the two sets as the other ‘rookie’, Ollie was out sick today. Everyone here had great fun with ‘O’Hara and ‘O. Halla’, the two fluffers. He went to Logan’s set, smiling at everyone before going directly to Logan, there would be no chit-chat today, it was straight to business as Finn was needed elsewhere. He was glad they had all been able to talk this morning instead, he would have missed his little updates on their lives.
“Back again, are we?” Logan teased, raising his eyebrow as he lay back on the futon that would be starring in today's filming. He untied his robe and tucked an arm underneath his head, looking at Finn through lowered lashes. Cocky. 
Finn gave him a look that made sure Logan knew with no uncertainty that Finn was aware of his every movement, before looking him right in the eye as he took Logan’s cock in his hand. Logan gasped and Finn steadied his hips with his free hand as he stroked him quickly. One thing he would never not love about Logan was how incredibly responsive he was. Every single thing Finn did was reflected in some way. The stutter of his hips when he circled his thumb over the head. The intake of breath when Finn’s fingers would accidently brush that damned tattoo. The flash in those green eyes when Finn would bite his own lip. 
Logan was hard and ready in no time and Finn rose, throwing him a playful wink before waltzing out of the room. 
“He’s all yours, boys.” He called to the producers and laughed a little as he left the room. He had made a vow to himself before he went on set today - he would not fucking blush. It would seem that so far, he had succeeded. 
Leo was always a little harder to judge than Logan, but Finn was learning quickly. He liked when Finn’s hand might slip lower and tease his balls. He wasn’t as affected by a little scrape of Finn’s nails. Finn was getting good though, he was learning their bodies, almost as well as he knew his own. Leo always almost came undone when Finn would twist his wrist, hand curled around his tip. Finn had to control himself when he made that discovery. That was what always did it for him too.
Sometimes at night, Finn's mind would slip to them. Then he would feel guilty and think about something else, anything else. Porn was ruined for him now, although he had to admit, it had never done all that much for him in the first place. He always ended up thinking about Leo and Logan again, but never from what he saw on set. No, Finn’s active imagination would slip to what they might be like by themselves, what they might be like with Finn. His orgasms would always come with the crashing reality that his dreams would never come to be. 
“Me and Lo, it’s for us. It’s not something anyone else gets to see.”
Finn sighed and gritted his jaw as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and sent a quick text to June.
Fancy going to a party next week?
Would this happen to be a pornstar party?
… Maybe 
Yeah I’m in.
Oh, and Finn?
Yeah?
You’re so fucked.
Finn rested his head back on the wall behind him. Yeah, yeah he was.
169 notes · View notes
m1d-w1nter · 3 years
Text
Our revenge
~
SUMMARY: sometimes love isn’t meant to be, tommy shelby x fem reader
{masterlist}
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~
The night was so long gone by now that a new day was already threatening to emerge. It was still late enough, however, for the world around you to be nothing but a hazy blackness, broken only by the delicate moonlight that had managed to pierce through the trees. The forest air was as silent as the dead, the gentle breeze their final and defeated breath, and beneath your bare feet the mud was thick and cool, squishing like soft clay between your toes. 
Someone was approaching from behind, the crack of the undergrowth and quiet breathing making its way towards you. You were always told to be on your guard if you strayed this far away from camp, but there was only one person that could possibly be approaching you. Even after all these years you still recognised Tommy Shelby by the sound of his footsteps. “Kushti divvus.” You murmured gently in acknowledgement of his arrival, the words so quiet they were likely to be carried away into the night. He would hear every word though. It was a talent of his- one that scared you- to always hear every word you spoke, even if they’d not yet even left your lips. “You left.” He replied bluntly, voice low and velvety, seeping through your body with power enough to make you weak at the knees. You weren’t surprised he’d noticed you leaving, and somewhere within you the girl you’d once been was even hurt that it had taken him this long to follow. You had wandered away from camp hours ago, seeking solitude within the woods and finding it in a small clearing. You hadn’t wanted to be there at all, anticipation for the evening making you sick all day, but your father had insisted that you were present at least to greet them. You’d given in to his demand, but the moment they all turned up and his eyes found yours, and years spent on burying emotions suddenly became wasted, you’d turned and fled. 
Twigs began crackling again as he approached, the long shadow that he cast across the ground slowly coming to rest beside yours. You refused to look at him, but you could still make out his face in the corner of your eye, startling blue eyes gazing over you, lips pressed into a cold line. Tommy’s hand came up suddenly to your face, the pad of his thumb brushing beneath your eye and up onto your cheekbone in one long stroke. You snapped your head to the side to glare at him. “You’ve been crying,” he muttered, thumb still pressed against your face, “why?” “Xoxamno.” “I’m not lying,” Tommy said, moving his hand to let run it down the side of your head, smoothing your hair and capturing the base of your neck. “You have been crying.” You moved instinctively towards him, leaning into the touch of his hand and bringing your face closer to his, though managing to stop just before your foreheads could touch. You had longed for him for so long that the feeling had become a part of you, but it didn’t mean you wanted any of this. You were supposed to have forgotten him, to have let go and moved on. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. But Tommy Shelby never gave up on what was his, and you had always belonged to him; heart, soul and body held tightly in the palm of his hand. Let me go, Tom, you tried to plead, though those weren’t words that left your mouth. “I’ve missed you.” You breathed instead, one of your hands finding the fabric of his shirt and balling it within your fist. You clung to the fabric and pulled at it aggressively, angrier at him than you’d ever been in your life. It wasn’t fair that he could do this- that he could undo all that you’d worked at so desperately with just the brush of one thumb. You knew this was like a game for him, that he found pleasure in how easy it was for him to make you weak. To anyone else the pair of you were like stone, unbreakable and unmovable, but to each other you were nothing but soft words and gentle caresses. As you pulled at him, his body came closer, until you were pressed so close you might as well have been one. You face moved to the side to avoid any accidental collision, temple pressed to his cheek and the sound of his breathing in your ear. He took calm breaths, deep and slow, as though every step of this dance had been exactly to his planning. And it likely had been. Tommy’d had years to craft this moment, and with such a cruel possession over you it was as simple to make you follow in his movements as it was to make your heart beat only for him. You knew you wouldn’t sound so calm to him, that your breathing was scattered and pained- as if when you’d drawn him close he’d sent a knife through your stomach. You wouldn’t put it past him. Your mother had warned of the changes war would create, the scars it would leave, and that he was rumoured to be even deadlier than before. You’d shrugged her off, however, because it made no difference to you. Tommy had been your poison since the day you first met him, and if his method of murder was only more brutal than before- well, you welcomed it with open arms. It was only what you deserved. “Is this your revenge?” You whispered to him, hand releasing his shirt fabric and sliding up to play with his open collar. “‘Cause this is how you’ll kill me, Tom.” Whilst he kept one hand firmly on your neck, the other- previously stashed in his trouser pocket- now brushed over your waist and came to rest on your lower back, gripping firmly. You were painfully aware that you wore nothing but cotton combinations and a shawl half-draped over your shoulders, legs and arms bare and prickled with goosebumps. It didn’t really matter though- he’d seen you in much less. “I don’t want to fucking kill you,” he mumbled back, angry at your words, “I just want to hold you.” “You don’t get to do that anymore.” You spat with unexpected venom, slipping from his grasp and pushing him back. You’d always possessed a talent to read people’s faces with ease. From the emotions they revealed, to the ones they buried deep inside them, nothing was a secret from you. But standing in the dark, where it was impossible to fully make out Tommy’s face, you couldn’t decipher how he felt, and that made you nervous. You were at his mercy, whether or not he would choose to be merciful at all.   Tommy took a step forward to approach you, but you took one back in response, your hand rising towards him in warning. “Why are you doing this?” He all but pleaded, the reflection of the night sky sparkling in his eyes like tears. “Why are you doing this?” You countered, “this isn’t supposed to happen again.” “Bullshit!” His voice rose up suddenly, but like a wave crashing on the beach he drew back in just as quickly, running a hand through his hair in embarrassment. It had never been that short before, you noticed, glancing at the sides that were shaven thin. His hair had been thick the last time you’d seen him, when you’d run your hands through it and pulled him towards you to kiss him, tears running down your face and between your lips. He’d changed just as much as you had, you realised, and it was a painful thought. You knew things could never have been as they once were, but this seemed to confirm it. “What happened then means nothing now,” Tommy continued more softly, “I kept my promise, I came back-“ “And I told you not to.” You cut in, with a tone harsh enough to cut skin. The words stung you both as much as they had when they’d first been spoken, unforgivable and unforgettable- and yet Tommy seemed perfectly content in living an existence where you’d never hoped for his death. In this he had become the definition of naivety, though perhaps a romantic might describe it simply as love. He strode forwards in a few steps, seizing you before you had a chance to retreat again. One hand took grip of your bicep roughly, the other effortlessly capturing your flailing hands by the wrists, leaving you trapped before him. It was a terrifying display of power, proving that Tommy had the strength and the ability to do whatever he pleased. If he wanted, as he did now, it took only the slightest effort to have you pinned helplessly before him. But you knew not to be afraid. You’d learnt to never fear Tommy long ago, when he’d sworn he would let you kill him before he ever really hurt you. His standing here now gave enough proof to how religiously he kept his promises. He’d made his way through hell to be come back to you and heaven help whoever came between. “I told you I never wanted to see you again.” You continued, hoping scorned words might be enough to chase him off. “And yet I’m here anyway.” “To spite me?” You questioned. “To forgive you.” He replied. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness, save it for someone who’ll take it.” Tommy shook his head and kissed your knuckles with the tenderness of a couple ten years married. “You deserve everything.” He said, staring into your eyes, “I’ll give you everything if you let me.” You recognised those words. He’d said them once before, in a lifetime long gone, on a cold afternoon when he’d ridden into camp on a black horse with the look of death in his eyes. They have no right to your life Tom, you had pleaded with him, they started this war, let them die in it. Begging, crying, kissing him until your lips were swollen and holding him with the threat of never letting go- it made no difference. And when that didn’t work you turned to hatred instead. You had hissed words made to frighten him- that you hoped he’d never come back and prayed the choice he was making was worth loosing you. But still he held you close, cradling you, kissing you and telling you he’d never loved anyone more in his life. Then he’d ruined everything by asking you to marry him. I’d rather burn in hell than be the widow of a man who dies a meaningless death, were the last words you’d ever spoken to him, walking away and never looking back. The silence as you both relived the memory was thunderous, and riddled with the pain of two broken hearts. You knew it was down to you to break the quiet- and to break his heart again. “We’ll be leaving for Ireland at the start of the month,” you explained to him, “Da wants us to leave before the snow sets in ‘cause we’re travelling all the way to Trawbreaga Bay. We’re going home.” “No.” Tommy said, and though you imagined it was supposed to be a demand, his voice broke in pain and it sounded more like him begging. “We’ll be gone for at least two winters, Tom. And Da wants me married by summer, so I might not even come back.” Tommy closed his eyes, dropping his head against your chest and his grip on you tightened furiously. You twisted one of your hands from his grasp, running your fingers through his hair and brushing your fingernails down to the nape of his neck. “I can’t loose you again.” His voice cracked under pressure as he mumbled into your shawl. “You choose to let me go once, you can do it again.” He shook his head and then lifted it slightly from against you, moving his hand from your bicep to part your shawl and expose the top of your chest. He pressed a kiss against your collarbone, and then to the side of your neck, before moving your hair to the side to kiss beneath your ear. His lips were warm and tender, and as he drew nearer to your mouth, kissing your cheek, you could smell the whiskey and tobacco that he always tasted of. Before he could reach your mouth, though, you put your fingers on his lips to stop him, pushing his head away. “I need you.” He spoke, bottom lip brushing against your skin. “You can’t belong to someone else.” “I belong to nobody but God,” you ran a thumb along his lip, “and you are no God, Tommy Shelby.” He pushed your hand away and pressed his forehead against yours, both of your eyes shutting so as to allow you to drink each other’s touch in. Tommy took grasp of both sides of your face, holding you tight against him. “I am more than a God.” He challenged with a low and forceful voice. “Not to me.” You whispered, apologetic. “I don’t worship you any more.” You took hold of his chin and drew his lips against yours, placing the softest kiss upon them. He knew better than to try for more, so stood limply as you untangled yourself and stepped away from him. You turned to walk away, but something within you made you stop and twist back around. You closed the distance between the two of you once again and kissed him tenderly against his cheekbone, one final time. He took hold of your hand, linking your fingers together in a desperate last attempt, but you simply slipped from his grasp with a sad smile, disappearing into the forest like a ghost in the night. You were dead to each other after all. Some things were just never meant to be.
~~~~~
(02/03/2021)
136 notes · View notes
seriouslyobsessed · 3 years
Text
Fanfiction Recommendations
Braime
•Rescuing Wolves By BecauseBraime
https://archiveofourown.org/works/25276045/chapters/61279684
Catelyn decides to take matters into her own hands and attempt a prisoner exchange. Jaime Lannister for her daughters. Instead of sending Brienne alone, she goes with her and Jaime to King's Landing. Her decision to go with Brienne and Jaime has a huge butterfly effect.
•Kingslayer By TransfiguredToad
https://m.fanfiction.net/s/13469153/1/
Sansa Stark overhears guards calling Brienne the Kingslayer's Whore and has a conversation with Brienne. When Jaime Lannister arrives early to Winterfell, before Brienne or Queen Daenerys, this conversation has changed everything.
•The Prodigal Son By Aviss
https://archiveofourown.org/works/28263918#main
Spring has finally come to The Seven Kingdoms, and the people in the Westerlands prepare to receive their Lord and Lady, who nobody knows but everyone is curious about.
•by hearts and hands made fast By Roccolinde
https://archiveofourown.org/works/25920433/chapters/62997265
But he’d held her wrist even then, thumb stroking, Marry me, he’d said, marry me and never acknowledge it if you do not wish, but marry me as I should have married you that night and every other. If I’m to die, he’d said (with her, he had not), let me die as your husband.
A grand romantic gesture has repercussions neither Jaime nor Brienne had foreseen.
•In for a little cuddle By tall_wolf_of_tarth
https://archiveofourown.org/works/29020695/chapters/71227692
Brienne is a sheep farmer with a video blog. Jaime is a subscriber.
•Proofs don't lie By ChocoNut
https://archiveofourown.org/works/29631888#main
Five times Brienne is caught with evidence of her feelings, and the one time Jaime decides to open up to his.
•The Call of the Void By Vera (Vera_DragonMuse)
https://archiveofourown.org/works/27841855/chapters/68164195
Gone are the days of Casterly Rock's glory. The sea eats at the cliffs, the trees encroach on its once proud lawns, and the rooms inside have been shut up one by one. A nurse and her patient are the only permanent residents. What secrets lay in the walls and how alone are they when the lights go out?
•would you hear my voice come through (hold it near as it were your own) By NaomiGnome
https://archiveofourown.org/works/28675515
All curses start out as blessings. For Brienne, she was unsure if it was meant to be a blessing at all. She remembered how she was, how she is: a tangle of limbs, blue eyes, too tall to be a lady, too broad to be a girl, mouth too wide, lips too big, and the attitude of an immovable cow. She was the bane of Septa Roelle’s second career. Her first career, Brienne discovered, was that of a rotten fairy.Brienne is cursed to only speak in echoes. One day, the most talkative person she'll ever know walks into her part of the woods.
•and maybe on another night, we were lovers in another life By janie_tangerine
https://archiveofourown.org/works/21904963
It’s been years. She feels like a very lively ghost that has taken his heart the moment she asked him if he needed help so long ago, or maybe she had the moment he saw her in that armor with her fingers wrapped around the sword’s handle like the most skilled of knights, and he wants to tell her it’ll always be hers —
But in real life, not in dreams.
He wants to find her so badly, but it’s not like he has anyone to ask for help with it, not when if his father finds out that his soulmate went to a public school that smelled of detergent he’d make sure that they never actually meet.
One day, he tells himself.
One day he will, and he’ll give her flowers that aren’t roses and he’ll tell her she has the most astonishing eyes.
Not that patience was ever his greatest quality, and he hates that the universe seems bent on teaching that to him, but —He will find her.
He will.
Or: in which they dream of each other for a long time.
•The Best Laid Plans of Gods and Men By Julieoftarth (Wherethereissmoak)
https://archiveofourown.org/works/14705694/chapters/33983559
Jaime Lannister thought his soulmark featuring two swords meant his soulmate was his knighthood, until he clashed swords with a certain wench on a bridge and saw a glimpse of the same mark on her wrist. But before they can have a happily ever after, there are villains to defeat and wars to win. Soul bonds, however, go beyond houses and honor and oaths.
68 notes · View notes
cl-01-kestis · 3 years
Text
A visit to the Senate
Dismay - Grand Admiral Thrawn x Rebel!Reader | Part 6
Summary: You’re sent on a mission along side Omani and Mon Mothma to attend the Naboo Senate, but things don’t go exactly as planned.
Warnings: sexual themes, angst
(Paragraphs in italics mean that the reader is in the past, it’s also the sexual part, so you’ll know when to stop scrolling if you don’t want to read it).
Chiss have fangs dont @ me ✋😌
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You had to admit, this was the worst bed you’d ever slept in. You couldn’t get comfortable, the springs poked out, and you would rather much sleep on the floor if the ship’s captain wasn’t so against it.
You had this room by yourself, Omani was in the room beside yours with her friends and you could hear their chatting through the walls. Their chatter didn’t bug you normally, but you were trying to get to sleep. You were exhausted, mostly because this journey took a few days and you were now in the middle of it, but with hardly any sleep.
The pillow done you justice in blocking out the noise of chatter in the room beside you and only then did your body finally allow you to rest. You didn’t care about how much sleep you got, just as long as you got any sleep at all.
Your mind didn’t do you any justice as you slept, bringing back long forgotten about memories that made you toss and turn in your sleep, letting out small noises and squeaks as your mind flashed you different images of your past at the Empire.
Tapping the code into Thrawn’s chambers, you looked from side to side and made sure that the stormtrooper at the door wasn’t looking or being nosy. You were dressed in full black, your commander uniform all crinkled due to a messy interrogation and a blow to the face that caused your eye brow to split open. You’d just returned from the medbay after recieving stitches, the blood all cleaned up but the wound was bruised and still raw. You held an ice pack to your brow as you entered Thrawn’s chambers and made sure the door closed behind you.
Your immediate thought was to see where he was, you expected to see him in his chair as you turned around but he wasn’t there. The door to his training room was open and you smiled to yourself, tip toeing your way to the doors arch and leaning your body on it as your eyes landed on Thrawn who was wearing a white vest and black joggers. He wrestled a sentry droid with his bare hands, no weapons required. His face was full of determination, red eyes ablaze as he eventually took down the droid who was banging its fists on the floor to try and lift itself up.
Thrawn looked up and spotted you standing at the door with a smile on your face. He yelled out the word ‘rukh’ and the droid powered down in seconds, it’s red eyes fading into a dull lifeless grey. You took the ice pack of your eyebrow when Thrawn stood up from the droid and walked towards you. Without a word exchanged, he wrapped his arms around your waist and kissed you softly.
“Who did this?” He asked, eyes trailing to the slit in your brow which was coated with two small medical stables and an invisible layer of bacta spray. You smiled at his concern and cupped his cheek.
“Bad day at interrogation... someone got the better of me, but I’m fine” You said with a calm exterior, leaning on your toes and planting another kiss on Thrawn’s lips which caused him to make a small noise of disapproval.
“Should send them to execution, whoever it was” Thrawn frowned, stroking your temple with one of his hands and grazing the surface of the staples in your brow. You winced slightly at the contact but Thrawn was quick to apologise and keep his hand away from your face.
“They’re an important vessel, according to Vader, so I can’t exactly go against his word” You defended as Thrawn let you go to walk out of his training room and go to his refresher. You followed behind, placing the ice pack near your eye once more and cursing out in Cheunh. Thrawn grinned at your words and opened the door to his refresher, stepping inside before turning around and leaning out as you approached.
“Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?” Thrawn teased, his large hands holding onto the arch of the door and supporting his weight as he leaned his body forward. You stuck your middle finger up at his words which made him let out a sharp laugh.
“I’m sure that’s no way to treat a Vice Admiral, Commander” Thrawn smirked as you approached him, your free hand cupping his cheek and trailing his jaw with your thumb. You tilted your head to the side slightly as your fingers grazed the skin on his neck, peeking under the material of his vest to see purple marks over his skin. You smiled at the sight of it, pulling the vest down slightly to get a better look at it which made the Chiss man stretch his neck out for you to get a better look.
“You look good with my marks on your skin” You commented on a sultry tone, letting go of his vest and turning around to walk towards his bedroom. But before you even got the chance to take the first step, Thrawn grabbed your wrist and spun you around, dragging you into the refresher with him and closing the door so he could pin you up against it. You gasped at his actions, unable to fight back the shit eating grin on your face as Thrawn’s knee placed itself between your legs.
“You’ll look better with mine” The Chiss growled before ripping open your uniform top effortlessly and burying his head into your neck. You cursed at Thrawn, raking your nails down his shoulder blades as his teeth sunk into your skin, his small fangs poking into your skin and making you hiss out in a mixture of pain and pleasure. As if you hadn’t bled enough today, Thrawn sucked and nibbled on your skin where his sharp K9’s had jabbed, his tongue slowly lapping up whatever blood he caused to come out.
“Do you always have to bite that hard?” You whined, clutching his vest and trying not to make too much noise in case anyone outside heard.
“Yes, it’s the best way to make you remember who you belong to” Thrawn replied, his whole demeanour was dominant and empowering as he held you still against the refresher door. He grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head with one of his hands whereas the other touched the bare skin of your chest and stomach, past the ripped Commander top and underneath your bra which made your breath suddenly catch in your throat.
“Thrawn” You moan, struggling against his hand that he’d your wrists as he pressed his fingers into your skin slowly but surely. You sighed at the feeling, closing your eyes for a brief moment as Thrawn kissed your collarbones, nipping the skin with his front teeth very softly.
“Care to shower with me?” Thrawn asked with a smile, leaning back up from your chest and letting go of your wrists. You blushed at his suggestion and nodded.
“How could I say no to that?” You chuckled.
-
Your eyes slowly opened to the familiar pitch black of your room on the ship. Lifting your head, you looked up to see Omani shaking your leg softly as she sat on your bed with a concerned expression.
“You were crying in your sleep” She whispered, her voice full of distress and panic as though she witnessed something traumatic.
You sat up abruptly, hands raising to your eyes and feeling nothing but wet tears staining your cheeks. You wiped them off with urgency, apologising to Omani who watched you in silence as you swallowed your emotions and sucked in a breath.
“Bad dream” You excused your tears, sniffing lightly and raising your legs out of the bed to hand them off the edge. You combed your hair with your hands, feeling your body tremble as your eyes stung with unpleasantly.
“You don’t cry whenever you have bad dreams” Omani shuffled over beside you and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, bringing you close to her as you found it difficult to breathe. You stayed silent at her comment and hung your head low, remembering the visions you saw in your dream and trying to shake them off due to how upset they were making you.
“I’d rather not talk about it” You breathed out, avoiding Omani’s confused stare which soon turned into a sad and frustrated one. You understood she was an adult now, at least an adult in Chiss culture, but you didn’t want to tell her about what you saw. Those memories were for you to deal with, memories you shared with literally no one. Regardless that Thrawn’s her father, you’re sure she wouldn’t want to know what you were dreaming about anyway.
“Well we’ve almost arrived on Naboo so you woke up at the right time” Your daughter pushed aside the tension you created and stood up from your bed, her arm unwrapping itself quickly from you and returning to her side as she approached the door.
“Be careful though, there might be some Imperials here today” That was Omani’s way of saying ‘be careful, dad might be here’. You smiled at her and nodded your head, watching her turn around and leave your room so you could get ready for the mission ahead of you.
Turning the lights on to your room, you were blinded immediately and forced to cover your eyes with your hand. Your eyes pounded in your head and you took a few seconds to adjust to the light in your room. As soon as you were sure you could see properly, your eyes landed on the suitcase you brought with you. You lay it out on the floor and opened it up, taking out a beautiful Senator dress you owned and wore only a few times. Omani mistook the dress for a wedding dress when she was a child and thought for a moment you were getting married, she started crying and making a fuss and you felt terrible.
You took out the shoes that went with the dress as well as a gold necklace, you had Omani do your makeup and hair for the event. She was more excited about it than you were, but she was mostly excited to see you take the stage and speak to other Senators. She had never been to one of your conferences before so this was a real treat for her, regardless if the senate was Imperial or not.
Omani fit herself in a navy dress that clung to her waist but was poofy at the skirt. She wore normal blue flats on her feet considering she hated heels, and for jewellery she wore diamond studs. She tied her heir up in a tight, neat hun and done her makeup very lightly.
Before you left the ship though, Omani gave you your locket from Thrawn back for you to wear at the senate. You suggested for her to wear it but she saw it fit that you would be the one to have it around your neck.
The rest of the rebels who were supporting you at the senate were dressed in navy’s and blacks, doing their best not to be noticed as you landed on Naboo and walked to the Senate. A member of the Senate escorted you and the group to the building and by the looks of it, it was a new republic Senate instead of an Imperial one. You sighed out in relief.
As you took your seats at the Senate, you received many strange looks from other senators and their parties. You ignored their looks and kept a stern expression on your face, determined for this to go well and stand up for the rebels in hopes to get support from Naboo. It wasn’t as though you had no experience, Bail Organa took you to many of his own Senate’s back when you were pregnant and in need of a new job.
It was going to be a while before the Senate started, so you decided to chat with Omani and the rebels in your group to calm their nerves and reassure then that this wasn’t going to be a catastrophe. Omani seemed headstrong about the Senate, the only thing she was worrying about was if the Empire made an appearance, and one man in particular. Beside you, Mon Mothma was with her own party and you felt a little more assured that you were no longer alone. You exchanged a few words with her before a few more senators arrived and the room started filing up quick.
The grand chancellor of Naboo walked up to his stand and the Senate was in session. Many exchanges were made and you and Senator Mothma took to the stage with your heads held high and determination flowing through your veins. You tried not to dwell too much on the fact that the Empire could possibly turn up but you made sure to focus on the most important thing at that moment, and that was hopefully gaining support from Naboo with essentials like food, weapons and more bases.
As Omani was watching you, she had a curious look around the room. Her red eyes switched from person to person like a dot to dot game, eventually falling on the door at the back of the Senate and feeling her body go stiff when Imperial figures emerged from the doors and spectated the Senate from a respectable distance. She tugged on the dress of another rebel who was with her and pointed to the top of the stairs, alerting the Empire’s appearance to the party who then shared it on to Senator Mothma’s party. You sat back down and noticed how scared Omani looked, her blue hand shaking as it tapped your shoulder and pointed to the back of the room. Your blood ran cold when your eyes fell on an imperial woman with an unmistakable appearance that pissed you off.
It was Arihnda Pryce. What was she doing here?
You looked to Senator Mothma who exchanged a wary glance with you, her hands clenched nervously in her lap as the next person took to the stage to support the points you made. You kept looking back at the room to speculate Pryce and her band of goons in the Senate. She wasn’t a Senator, so why was the here? Was she here to order a massacre because the Empire wasn’t here? Or was she here in an attempt to act like a Senator? Both thoughts made you clench your jaw in anger.
Looking back to the Grand Chancellor, you noticed his eyes on Pryce. He spotted her at the stairs and requested that the Senate take a current pause due to the situation.
“And what might you be doing here? The Empire rejected our invitation” The Chancellor said in a loud, booming voice. Pryce never flinched, she only smirked and started making her way down the stairs of the senate. You glared at her the whole time, blocking Omani from her sight even though she was no where near you.
“That is true, Chancellor, but any Senate without the Empire is illegal, therefor this Senate shall disperse immediately” She grinned, making you want to punch her right in her annoying face as she rubbed her nails on the chest of her grey Moff uniform.
“That is not fair!” A Senator cried out, as did another, yelling different insults her way which she wasn’t the least bit effected by. Omani held onto your hand out of fear, her red eyes looking at the woman who you came to loathe so much in your Imperial days.
“I’m afraid it’s perfectly fair, this is against the rules of the Empire” She snapped at whoever yelled at her, her eyes narrow and brows furrowed into a menacing expression. She glared at whoever was around her, eventually stopping once her gaze landed on the Chancellor once again.
“This is my Senate! I shall do and say as I please!” The Chancellor exclaimed, apaulled by Pryce’s words and slamming his fist on the table he was standing at.
“Actually, you can’t” A new voice errupted from the entrance at the back of the Senate. The whole Senate fell silent, including you and Omani, and the rest of the rebels with you. You looked at Omani immediately, eyes glassy with shock as you grabbed her arm and looked back at the new face at the top of the stairs.
“Grand Admiral, what are you doing here?” The Chancellor asked with a stunned tone, clearing his throat and trying to seem confident as Thrawn, who’s eyes were looking straight into the Chandellors soul, made his way slowly down the stairs. Pryce turned to look at Thrawn with a smile, a smile you wanted nothing more than to smack off her face.
Omani spluttered and trembled behind you as she spotted the face of the man she knew as her father, gripping onto the sleeve of your dress tightly as she sat frozen in fear.
You stole a glance at Mon Mothma who was glaring right at the Chiss man making his way down the stairs, her fists clenched underneath the stand in front of her seat. You felt an underlying guilt fill you up the more you looked around the court, noticing everyone’s fierce glares towards the man you had a child with.
“Just stay behind me” You whispered to Omani, squeezing her hand as tight as you could without hurting her, pushing away the feeling of nausea stirring in your stomach.
“The Empire doesn’t have jurisdiction over my Senate, you aren’t wanted here” The Chancellor defended with a loud tone of voice, making his point as transparent as he possibly could whilst looking right back at Thrawn.
“I see... very well,” Thrawn sighed. “In favour of this... chancellor to continue this illegal debate, please stand?” Thrawn looked around the room with an amused smirk. There were a few people who stood up right away, not afraid of the consequences they’ll face by standing by the New Republic.
You looked down at your lap, looking to Omani who shook her head at you, silently begging you not do what she thought you were going to do. Smiling at her, you let her hand go and stood up from your seat, looking right at the Chancellor and nodding his way, earning one in return from him as he sent you a grateful smile. Omani and the others looked at you, horrified, but Mon Mothma smiled, though she did not stand herself.
A few Senators stood up after you, you were thankful that Thrawn’s attention didn’t seem to direct itself to you but sooner or later, stormtroopers appeared and approached those who were standing, including yourself.
Keeping your calm, you smiled and started chuckling at the situation you were in. The silence in the room emboldened your soft laughter and soon, everyone’s eyes were on you. A stormtrooper appeared behind you and grabbed your arms, putting you in cuffs and tugging for you to follow him.
“What’s so funny, Senator?” Pryce stepped forward, her gaze sharp and heavy on you as you stepped out of your Senator chair and gave Omani a reassuring nod.
“This is ridiculous, you Imperials do nothing but ruin everything, this was a peaceful negotiation until you showed up, Governor Pryce” You glared, eyes piercing right through her which caused her to let out a disgusted scoff.
“Arrest this woman at once-“
“That won’t be necessary, Pryce” Thrawn interrupted her, sending her a bone chilling glare that made you want to laugh right in her face. Her pride was torn apart as he stepped forward and looked right at you. Shit.
Thrawn noticed the smile forming on your face, it wasn’t because of Pryce, it was for him. He knew it.
“Senators deserve respect, not violence, get her out of the restraints” Thrawn ordered in a calm, yet demanding voice, causing the stormtrooper to immediately let you out of the handcuffs and step away from you. Thrawn smiled pleasantly at the sight of you glaring at the trooper with a deadly scowl.
“We all share different views in this Senate, though we might not all agree with them, but politics shouldn’t resolve to violence” Thrawn looked at you the whole time with a glimmer in his eyes, he was protecting you like he said on the hologram.
Omani was watching behind you, her eyes wide with surprise and confusion at the same time. She was relieved you weren’t going to be arrested or taken away, but the order was given by Thrawn of all people? She was absolutely positive it was a matter of being biased, if you were someone else he would’ve said nothing.
“This is still an illegal gathering and I unfortunately cannot let it continue,” Thrawn looked back to the Chancellor who’s frown returned to his face. Sighing, he nodded his head and gave in to Thrawn’s request without a single word. Small murmurs of defence echoed around the room but nothing dramatic came out of it.
“Wise choice, we shall take our leave then” Thrawn turned to Pryce, nodding at her to gather her troops and leave the Senate as everyone watched. Omani stood up beside you and wrapped her arms around you, holding you tight as she sobbed in your shoulder. Her cries were thankfully muffled by the sound of footsteps, drawing little to no attention as you held her close and kissed her cheek.
From a distance, Thrawn had turned back around to look at you, but he got a pleasant surprise when he witnessed you embracing no one else but your child, Omani. His frown slowly melted into a look of ease and he smiled at the sight. Whilst Omani rest her chin on your shoulder, she opened her eyes only to spot Thrawn looking right at her with a small smile. Her heart dropped to her stomach but through her tears, she smiled as well. Did he know? Or was he just smiling because she was one of his kind?
“He’s looking at us” Omani whispered in your ear, and in response you let her go and turned around, looking up slightly to meet his gaze and nod your head curtly at him. Thrawn nodded back, looking back to Omani who was shocked at the interaction between you and Thrawn, but she stood her ground and made no actions towards him.
“Am I missing something here?” Omani mumbled under her breath but you heard her, looking at her with a smile and shaking your head.
“Nothing important, let’s just focus on getting out of here” You patted her shoulder, kissing her head lovingly and sneaking another glance back at Thrawn when she turned to the other rebels who were there. The Grand Admiral looked hesitant to leave, his hands were clasped behind his back but every time he looked like he was about to move, he didn’t. Senators were starting to leave and so was Mon Mothma, but for a brief second it felt like no one else was in the room apart from you and Thrawn.
“Are you coming?” You turned to see Omani and the other rebels leaving the pod. You looked back at Thrawn and then back to Omani, nodding reluctantly and taking her hand as she walked out.
Thrawn watched from a distance as his daughter walked you out of the Senator pod, it was obvious you didn’t want to leave and he noticed the way you kept looking back to see him. His heart ached in his chest but he forced himself to look away, eyes landing on Pryce who’s face was full of fear. Saying nothing, Thrawn walked right past her and made his way out of the back entrance, the stormtroopers following behind him.
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Still a Little Bit Yours (Part 1) - fic
Characters: Jon Kent, Damian Wayne, bit of Tim Drake and Maya Ducard Pairing: jondami Summary: Damian broke up with him, out of the blue. It didn’t make any sense. But, as it turns out, there’s a reason why it didn’t. A/N: Damian and Jon are in their mid-twenties and no longer go by Robin or Superboy (but not really Batman or Superman either, Tim’s last line is kind of a joke.) Title, and maybe vibe of this part, is based on ‘A Little Bit Yours’ by JP Saxe.
Part One | Part Two
~~
The phone almost slipped from his fingers.
Damian…did Damian just say what he thought he said?
“…What?” He whispered near breathlessly. “W-what did you just say?”
“I said I think we should see other people.” Damian replied calmly. “It would be for the betterment of both of us.”
“Since when?” Jon snapped, anger flaring immediately, but instantly morphing into confusion and sadness. His heart breaking by the second.
They’d been together for three years. Secretly pined after each other for the two years prior to that. Had recently talked about moving in together. Had been happy.
Jon was so, so sure they’d been happy.
“Since…recently.” Damian hummed blankly. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.”
“And the thought of doing this in person didn’t occur to you in your fucking contemplation?” Jon snapped. “Christ, Damian, we were just talking about getting an apartment!”
“I’m sorry if I hurt you. I know this isn’t what you want.” There was a hint of regret in Damian’s voice, but not enough for Jon’s liking, so it only fueled his growing anger further. “I…I don’t know what else to say.”
“Oh, really? Three fucking years and this is all you have to say?” Jon hissed. “I know you’re emotionally constipated, Damian, but…god. This is low. Even for you.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re not!” Jon shouted. A store clerk nearby glanced at him. And that was right, he was in the grocery store. He’d…forgotten. Forgotten the whole world existed, forgot it was collapsing around him by the second, as Damian hummed those words. “Because if you were sorry, you wouldn’t have fucking done it this way in the first place!”
He heard a mother a few aisles down murmur to her children to not use language like that. That people who talked like that were pathetic.
“I…I don’t know what your game here is, Damian.” He whispered harshly.
“It’s not a game.” Damian promised. “I respect you too much to play games with you. I’m just trying to be honest.”
“But you don’t love me enough to break up with me in person, apparently.” Jon countered. He closed his eyes, wouldn’t allow the tears to fall. “I…Damian, I’m going to hang up on you right now. I…I don’t want to say something I might regret.”
“That’s fine.” Damian promised. Then again: “I’m sorry, Beloved.”
Jon scoffed and pulled the phone away from his ear. He hit the call end button so hard the screen cracked under his touch.
…Great.
He stood there a moment, trying to take deep, even breaths. But it wasn’t working real well. Each breath was trembling, and it’s like his lungs suddenly didn’t work, couldn’t hold any air.
Did he do something wrong? Did he say something? They’d fought before, all couples do. They were getting better at communication, Damian was coming out of that emotional shell the League of Assassins put him in.
They’d kissed yesterday. Jon had held him in his arms, had kissed his nose and told him how beautiful his smile was. Damian had laughed and held Jon’s face, stroking his thumb along his cheek.
And now…now they were here?
“…Honey?” Jon jumped as a hand gently touched his elbow. He spun to find an old woman in an apron matching the store’s color scheme glancing up at him. “Are you okay?”
The world around him came whooshing back. He was in the middle of the grocery store. He…he was sobbing in the middle of the grocery store. Fat, ugly tears rolling down his face as he practically crushed his phone in his hand.
“Do you need me to call someone?” The woman whispered.
“No, I…” He gently placed his shopping basket – half full of this week’s groceries – on the floor and backed away. He clumsily ran his nose along his sleeve, a trail of snot left in his wake. “I’m alright. I’m…I’m sorry.”
He turned and barely stopped himself from flying out of the store.
~~
Jon laid in bed for two days, exhausting himself racking his brain, trying to figure out what happened, what changed, what he did.
He texted Damian, almost exactly twenty-four hours after the fateful call, but the other never answered. Never answered any text Jon sent. Or any call that he drunkenly made after that. Didn’t even give him the knowledge of being left on read.
He cried a few times, threw things a few other times.
None of this made any sense.
He thought about going over to Gotham. Walking up to the manor and banging on the door until someone answered. Thought about staging a protest until Damian agreed to see him, if the door answerer wasn’t said boyfriend.
…Ex-boyfriend.
Tears welled up in his eyes every time he thought of the term.
Ex. Boyfriend.
Jon closed his eyes, buried his face in his pillow. Honestly, he thought they were going to get married. He thought they were going to be together forever. He wasn’t ready to plan a life without Damian, not yet. They were supposed to grow old together, die minutes apart like in the movies. Holding hands until the end.
He didn’t lose Damian to death, like he always thought he would. He didn’t lose Damian to space or assassins or even to grief in the potential loss of Bruce or Dick. He lost Damian because Damian…simply didn’t want him anymore.
God. They weren’t supposed to break up after three years. They weren’t supposed to part ways in their twenties. They weren’t supposed to end things for no reason.
He thought he’d gotten pretty good at reading Damian. His ticks, his quirks. What upset him, what didn’t. He thought he was an expert. The world’s leading expert in Damian Wayne.
Apparently he was fooling himself.
He sighed, pressed his face further into the fabric of his pillow. Tried to ignore the memories threatening to overflow. Of he and Damian in this bed. Kissing, cuddling, lazing. Of Jon promising Damian the whole world, and Damian countering with the whole universe instead.
He wondered if he should call Kathy. Or Maya. Hell, one of Damian’s siblings. See if Damian had talked to them, if they had seen any signs. If they knew of anything going on.
He just burrowed under his covers, and kept his eyes closed.
~~
In the end, he didn’t tell anyone about the breakup. Not even his parents. There were intergalactic wars starting and government coups commencing – they had more important things to worry about than their youngest’s love life. And judging by the fact he hadn’t heard from any of the Bats, he had a feeling Damian didn’t mention it to his family either.
Just as well. They were adults. They could handle this as just that. Adults.
So he wallowed in self-pity for a few days, but eventually forced himself up. Took a deep breath, dried his own eyes and distracted himself with continuing his life. Focused on his job, on heroing. The world kept turning, even if he and Damian weren’t together.
His heart hurt less as the days passed on. Not by much, his heart was still utterly shattered after all, but it didn’t hurt as much to inhale. Didn’t hurt as much to smile. Didn’t hurt as much to get a text or a call and it not be Damian.
Damian never answered when Jon tried to contact him. The first few days were understandable, but now the texts were housekeeping. Do you want your shirt back? I think you left Alfred’s cat treats here. I have a box of your stuff and your apartment key, if you’re in town soon, you can stop by and get it.
And still, like always, nothing. Damian was always stubborn, but now he was just being downright rude. It’d been almost a month now! Surely if someone as emotional as Jon could somewhat start to get over it, someone as stoic as Damian had probably completely forgotten about it by now!
He huffed as he watched a couple walk by the park bench he was sitting on, taking the momentary surge of frustration-induced courage to hit the call button on his (recently fixed) phone and hold it up to his ear.
They wouldn’t have to talk. This was just tying up the loose ends. Getting rid of the sentimental things. Getting rid of things that didn’t belong to him. That was all. That was all.
But the line didn’t even ring. It went straight to voicemail. And the frustration turned to hurt. Did…did Damian change his number? No, impossible. It still went to Damian’s voicemail, his phone was just off.
But Damian never turned his phone off. No hero did, and especially no one in the Wayne family. They were always on call, even when they shouldn’t be.
So, for Damian’s phone to be off…was he avoiding someone? Avoiding Jon?
He lowered his phone to his lap and stared at it. He was one of those people who put emojis in people’s contact names. Damian’s name was surrounded by the pink, growing heart, and the cat emoji that looked like Alfred.
He didn’t have the strength to take those away. Not yet.
He swallowed the lump in his throat that he didn’t realize was there, and put his phone back in his pocket.
He’ll just ship Damian his shit, then.
~~
He shouldn’t have. He really shouldn’t have. It’d make him the crazy ex. The ones Taylor Swift wrote songs about.
But at least once a day, he found himself listening. Tapping into his powers and listening for Damian’s heartbeat.
He didn’t do it often while they were together. Mostly because while together they were almost always together. Physically. So he could just reach out and hold Damian’s wrist. Put his ear to Damian’s chest. Watch the pulse as it beat along Damian’s neck.
It was a coping mechanism back then, used to calm himself. When the world got too much. When his day was bad. He could just focus on Damian’s heartbeat in any form. Drown the rest of the noise out.
Damian’s heartbeat now sounded far away, but Jon didn’t feel like pinpointing how far. It was slow and even, and that almost made him angry. Damian was calm. Damian was relaxed. Probably sitting at his easel drawing without a care in the world, while here Jon was listening for him like some kind of fucking lost puppy.
Every time he listened, it was slow and steady.
Stupid Damian, he’d think as he tuned his powers back out, furiously go back to whatever he was doing. Stupid relationships.
Relationships were overrated. Damian was overrated.
~~
“He what?!”
Maya’s shriek had Jon pulling the phone away from his ear with an amused grimace. He laughed as he switched the audio to be on speaker, and absently opened an app on his phone.
(A…dating app.)
“You didn’t know?” Jon hummed. His friend had called to ask some questions on a man she was tracking, someone who rumours said was from another planet. Kathy hadn’t known of the solar system, so she was trying the next best alien. As they talked, something about a crime scene came up, and she asked if Damian could help, if Jon could give him the phone. He had to break the news. “I thought you guys talked like…every day.”
“No way.” Maya scoffed. “Once a month, if that.” Jon could hear the frown in her voice. “And we did talk about a month ago. Maybe a bit longer. He didn’t say anything. In fact, he told me you guys were going to move in together, that he wanted me to plan a trip back to the States for a housewarming party.”
“Well…life comes at you fast, I guess.” Jon chuckled bitterly, remembering that call. He was in the room for that call, dozing in Damian’s arms, half listening to their conversation. He sneered at the choices the app was giving him. None of them were very attractive. “Because about a month ago was when he called it off.”
“Huh.” Maya mumbled. “I’m so sorry, Jon. If I’d had known that’s what he was planning, I would have beat the shit out of him. You were the best thing to ever happen to him, for gods’ sake! What the hell did he willingly throw it all away for?!”
“Your guess is as good as mine.” Jon shrugged. This potential match wore a shirt that said Joker’s Biggest Fan on it, and Jon cringed instantly. “He didn’t give a reason. Just said that it was for the betterment of both of us, and that he was sorry.”
“Fucking turd.” Maya sighed. “I’ll call him here in the next few days, and see if he’ll tell me anything.”
“Good luck.” Jon drawled. “He hasn’t answered a single text or phone call since he broke things off. And I don’t know if that’s to just me or everyone.”
“You ask one of his brothers? Which one’s friends with your brother again? Jason?”
“Tim.” Jon corrected. He hesitated on this potential match option. Just stared. It was a woman. Dark hair, tan skin, standing in a desert. She was beautiful. And she reminded him of Damian. “And I haven’t seen or talked to any of them either. No cases have taken me out to Gotham lately.”
The next match had sharp eyes, ones that said they were smarter than everyone else. Cocky. That was like Damian too.
“Eh, they’d probably cover for him anyway. They’re all a bunch of freaks like that.” She grumbled. “Are you…doing okay?”
“I’m fine.” Jon lied, and he knew Maya heard right through it. “Time heals all wounds and all that. Better every day.”
“Oh, Jon…” Maya sighed sympathetically. Jon didn’t even have it in him to be embarrassed at her pity. Not when the next person on the app was standing on a rooftop, flag tied to his neck, blowing gloriously behind him. Looking far too much like every hero persona Damian’s ever been. “Hey – I’ll be back in the States soon. And I promise, I’ll make my first stop coming to see you so we can get drunk and stuff ourselves with pizza and scream about what an asshole Damian is. Okay?”
The next match was posed in the photo in a fencing match. Damian. The next surrounded by Great Danes. Damian. The next playing a violin. Damian. The next wearing a Batman costume at a Halloween party.
Damian.
Damian. Damian. Damian.
He sighed and closed the app. Stupid.
“Yeah. That sounds like exactly what I need, Maya.”
“Great. It’s a date.” She paused a moment. “Love you, dude.”
Jon hesitated, because he hadn’t said those words since Damian. Hadn’t thought them. Hadn’t wanted to think them, not for anyone. Not for family, not for friends. Not for a single person in his life. Still left in his life.
“Love you too, Maya.”
~~
Jon wasn’t a dreamer. He didn’t know if it was his Kryptonian side, or just how he was, but he didn’t dream often. And if he did, if he remembered them, it was only flashes. Only later moments of déjà vu. Never full sequences. Never lucid.
But…this.
They were in Kansas, out in one of Pa’s fields, lying among the wheat. Damian was flat against the ground as Jon laid over him, kissing him as hard and deeply as he could. They both had their arms around the other, grips tight and unyielding. Like if one of them let go, the whole world would disappear.
He doesn’t know why, but it was a noise Damian made. A quiet moan, and his fingers digging desperately into Jon’s shoulders that snapped him out of it. Made him realize.
This wasn’t real.
He began to lean back, pulled his arms from Damian’s shoulders to steady himself. Damian shifted too, but only to hold Jon’s face, to try and chase his lips.
“No, I…” Jon stuttered, his body wanting to do just that. Dive back in and devour Damian whole. But his mind didn’t let him, forced him to continue back until he was on his knees. “We can’t.”
He got to his feet and backed up a step, half turning away. Couldn’t bear the sight of Damian lying in the dirt, shirt half open and hair disheveled, chest heaving from arousal and exertion. “…Jonathan?”
“You’re not real.” Jon almost whined, running his fingers through his hair.
“Is that so?” Damian scoffed. “Since when?”
“Since I know we haven’t been back to Kansas in like a year.” Jon sighed, turning back. “Since I just remembered you broke up with me.”
“Absurd.” Damian laughed. Jon glared down at him, watched as Damian stood, and wiped the dust from his butt. “I would never do such a thing.”
“Well…you did!” Jon spat. “And over the phone! Not even in person!”
“You’re not listening to me.” Damian scolded. He raised his sharp gaze. “I would never do such a thing.”
“…What?” Jon whispered incredulously. “I just…I just told you that you did! And I…” He snorted, shook his head. “You’re not even real. Why the hell am I even trying to argue with you?”
“Because despite what you tell those around you, you miss me.” Damian sauntered over to him with a smirk, and poked at his temple. “Now I need you to use that big brain of yours and focus on what I’m saying. What it means.”
Jon looked down sadly. Gently reached up to take Damian’s hand in his, and turned so he could kiss his palm, could hide his face against Damian’s hand.
Damian just smiled warmly, stepped closer into Jon’s space. Cupped his other hand around the side of Jon’s throat. “Please just remember.” He begged softly. “I would never do such a thing. Never.” He leaned up on his toes, and pressed their foreheads together. “Not to you, Beloved.”
Jon leaned into the gesture, and parted his lips to kiss Damian again.
But then he woke up.
He woke up in the dead of night, with tears streaming down his face, and the memory of the dream burning against his skull.
I would never do such a thing.
“But you did, Damian.” Jon sobbed, clutching his pillow, curling his knees to his chest. Because it felt like his heart was going to tumble out, all the pieces that it had shattered into were going to come spilling out onto his sheets. “You did.”
He didn’t go back to sleep.
~~
Jon let out a low growl as he stomped out of the café. That was a bust. That was a huge fucking waste of his time.
But that’s what he got for trying to jump back into the dating pool.
The girl seemed nice enough in their limited texting interaction. She was cute and not purposefully looked nothing like Damian. She was bubbly and loud, and also not purposefully acted nothing like Damian either.
(Totally not purposefully. Totally.)
But he’d just spent the last hour listening to her rant about conspiracy theories that were already disproven one hundred times over, and rave about how Lex Luthor was the best and coolest and smartest person to ever exist, because he was rich and going to get them all to Mars. She never stopped to let Jon talk. Never stopped to take a breath for herself either.
Needless to say, there’d be no second date. He’d frankly excused himself with a lie to get out of this one early.
(And she’d already texted him about how great of a time she had, and she couldn’t wait to see him again, despite still sitting in the restaurant ten feet behind him.
Jon didn’t like to ghost people – not like certain ex-boyfriends of his – but this one…he couldn’t wait to.)
So it must have been fate that he chose that moment to leave. Not a few minutes before, or decided to suffer through the rest of his rendezvous. Because as soon as he walked out of the café, he spotted one Tim Drake coming out of the building across the street.
Funnily enough, Tim spotted him at almost the exact same moment. Except instead of waving or smiling like Tim normally would, his face visibly paled and his eyes widened, like Jon was the last person on Earth he wanted to see.
Jon frowned when he saw Tim glance around, like he was looking for an escape route. “Tim!” He called before the other could do just that, glancing up and down the street before jogging quickly towards him. “Hey, wait up!”
Tim took a step backwards, like he was going to try to bolt, but in the end stayed where he was, waited for Jon to reach him. Quickly pulled his phone out and scanned the screen before pocketing it again. “Hey Jon…what, uh. What’s going on? How are you?”
“Oh…been better. But trying to stay positive.” Jon laughed knowingly. Tim didn’t react. “How’s the family?”
“Good. Busy.” Tim shrugged. “Lots of, uh…stuff to do. You know how it is.”
Jon nodded, and the two fell into an awkward silence. Tim pulled his phone out again, but quickly threw it back in his pocket.
“How’s…” And Jon didn’t want to ask, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t curious. Wasn’t desperate to actually know, instead of guessing and assuming. “How’s Damian?”
But to Jon’s the surprise, at the sound of Damian’s name, Tim seemed to practically deflate. He threw his hands across his face, began shaking his head. “God, Jon, I’m so sorry. I know we should have called, or kept you in the loop or something. But we didn’t want you to become a target too or get hurt, or…”
“What?” Jon cut off, gut suddenly dropping. “What are you talking about?”
Tim peeked between his fingers, eyes narrowed. “…What are you talking about?”
“I…I haven’t talked to Damian since he broke up with me.” Jon murmured. Tim’s eyes instantly widened even more in surprise. “I just…wanted to know if he was doing okay?”
“Damian broke up with you?” Tim whispered. “When?”
“Um, I don’t know a month or so ago?” Jon shrugged. “Why? Tim, what’s going on?”
“How did he break up with you?” Tim demanded, suddenly all but lunging at Jon. His eyes darted between Jon’s desperately. “Was it in person?”
“No, it was over the phone.”
“What day?” Tim asked, almost giddy now. “What day did he break up with you, exactly? What day did you get that call?”
“Uh…” Jon pulled out his phone, and went to the call feature. He scanned the list until he found the one he was looking for. The one that ruined his whole life. “The seventh.”
“What time?”
“Like three or four in the afternoon?” Jon huffed. “Tim, why is this relevant? What happened?”
“Have you talked to him since then?” Tim continued, undeterred. “In any way? Text? Call? Carrier pigeon?”
“What? No! I…I tried calling him a few times, to return his stuff and all that, but he never answered.” Tim suddenly backed away from him, running both hands through his hair, like a case was just blown wide open. For the third time, Jon asked: “Tim, what the hell is going on?”
Tim hesitated for a moment, then looked Jon dead in the eyes. “Damian’s been missing for a month.” He said plainly. “He disappeared on the morning of the seventh.”
And just like that day on the phone, it felt like the world was being swallowed into a black hole beneath him. That the universe was disappearing around him, that it wasn’t real.
He could barely breath. “…What?”
“He, Duke and Cass were on a case in France. Without warning all three of them went radio silent. When we got there, we only found Duke and Cass half dead in a vineyard. They said they were attacked by a…a shapeshifter or something, lured them in by transforming into members of the Justice League. That they saw the shapeshifter and their crew dragging Damian away, but they didn’t see where to, or even what direction.”
Jon’s head was spinning.
“We’ve been looking for him day and night ever since. And when you didn’t come looking for him…” Tim winced. “We assumed he’d told you that he would be away on a mission, potentially for a long time. So your absence didn’t concern us. In fact, like I said, we were grateful. We didn’t want you getting wrapped up in this too, and potentially hurt.”
Jon was barely listening anymore, too wrapped up in what he’d just been told. That Damian had been missing since that day. That the reason Damian’s heartbeat sounded so far away was because he was, he was somewhere in Europe. That he wasn’t answering his phone because he was being held captive.
…That it wasn’t Damian on that call.
I would never do such a thing. Never. Not to you.
“…Beloved.” He murmured. Tim instantly stopped in his ramblings.
“…What?” Tim asked.
“On the call, when he broke up with me. First, he never gave a reason, which I thought was crazy. I guess…I guess it makes sense now.” Jon said thoughtfully. “But before we hung up. He said ‘I’m sorry, Beloved.’”
“…So?”
“That’s what Damian had me as in his phone. Not my name.” Jon explained. “Why would he still call me Beloved if he was breaking up with me?”
“…He would have said your name.” Tim said, the truth dawning on him. “The kidnapper wouldn’t know that. They wouldn’t know your name. So they called you what you were listed as.”
“And recognized that I was someone important to him.” Jon finished. “But…why? Why call me just to…break up with me? Why call me at all?”
“I don’t know. We can think about it later.” Tim was instantly back in detective mode, holding out his hand. “Give me your phone.”
“Why?”
“Because we can track where that phone call came from.” Tim wiggled his fingers impatiently. With his other hand, he pulled out his own phone, typing furiously with his thumb. Jon realized that’s why he was checking it so much, that’s why he was in Metropolis at all. He was looking for clues for Damian, anywhere he could. “And that might take us to where this bastard took my brother.”
“...Need a ride to the Batcave?” Jon asked with a sheepish smile. “…The sooner we get there, the sooner we can track this fucker and find Damian.”
Tim pursed his lips in thought, clearly not thrilled at the idea of including Jon, not after they all tried so hard to keep him detached, but eventually returned the grin.
“Get us in the air, Superman.”
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disastermages · 3 years
Text
Lan Zhan had been trying to work his way over to Wei Ying for the better part of two hours now, but every time he got close, either one or both of them were being led off by some distant relative, or business acquaintance, or a family friend that neither of them could recognize. Wei Ying had only thrown him sympathetic looks over his shoulder as they both resigned themselves to have strangers chatting away at their elbows.
Lan Zhan should have known better than to let go of Wei Ying’s hand, he should have known better than to agree to an engagement party, even if Jiang Fengmian had insisted on throwing one for them. Jiang Yanli had warned them when he and Wei Ying had decided to announce their engagement to their siblings first, and neither of them had had the foresight to listen to her.
It takes him another hour and a half to find himself beside Wei Ying, their shoulders pressed together as their fingers intertwine. “Can we sneak off yet?” Wei Ying asks, his nose brushing against Lan Zhan’s cheek, and Lan Zhan would give anything to be able to lean into it, but he doesn’t, instead his eyes search across the room for his brother, swiping his thumb over the back of Wei Ying’s hand.
When their eyes finally do meet, Lan Huan takes a moment to look over the room before he smiles and nods, waving them off as subtly as he can. Lan Zhan feels himself relax instantly. “Yes.” He answers finally, his hand tightening around Wei Ying’s as he leads them out of the packed room, trying his best not to get noticed by some aunt or uncle that held either one of them once.
It takes longer than it should for the two of them to find an empty dock, the rest of them occupied by others who had drifted away from the party, or larger groups looking for a quiet place to sit and gossip while they drank, but Wei Ying leads him out to one on the far end of the Jiang’s property, with only a single row boat tethered to it.
“I missed you.” Wei Ying sighs as they sit down across from each other, their knees touching as they leaned into each other’s space.
“We’ve been in the same room all night.” Lan Zhan teases, reaching forward to tuck a lock of hair that had escaped from his ponytail behind his ear, though he doesn’t take his hand away, instead he lets it trail down the length of Wei Ying’s arm, only stopping when he holds one of Wei Ying’s hands in both of his.
“With three hundred other people.” Wei Ying whines, and Lan Zhan can feel the corners of his lips trying to pull into a smile. “It doesn’t count if our families keep us on opposite sides of the room, Lan Zhan.” Even as he speaks, Wei Ying’s thumb is sliding underneath the cuff of Lan Zhan’s shirt, pressing against the soft skin of his inner wrist.
“I missed Wei Ying as well.” Lan Zhan says, taking one of his hands and lifting it to Wei Ying’s cheek, already wishing they were back in their apartment, the door locked behind them and Wei Ying asleep on his chest.
Wei Ying’s eyes flutter closed on instinct, dark lashes fanning out across his cheeks and making Lan Zhan’s stomach do somersaults, even after all the years they’d been together.
He hadn’t known what to do the first time he’d seen Wei Ying, sneaking over their boarding school’s wall and breaking the rules before the semester had even properly began, such an obvious disregard for the rules had confused and frustrated him.
Lan Zhan likes to think that he’s gotten better though, leaning forward and brushing a kiss onto Wei Ying’s forehead.
When he sits back, Wei Ying is smiling up at him sweetly, his eyes soft as he leans forward, chasing after Lan Zhan like he always does, though he seems to deflate a little once his hands make contact with Lan Zhan’s thighs.
“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying sighs quietly, looking up at him in a way that makes Lan Zhan want to pull him into his lap and keep him there for the rest of the night, “Is this how our wedding is going to be? Having to sneak off just to get away from Uncle Jiang’s business partners?” It wasn’t like Lan Zhan hadn’t had the same thought, his uncle hadn’t invited any business partners of his own, but he’d invited distant relatives, some with names neither Lan Zhan nor his brother could remember. The same couldn’t be promised for their wedding.
“It does not have to be.” Lan Zhan says softly, looking down and focusing on the way their legs press against each other, “We do not have to have a large wedding if Wei Ying doesn’t want it.” Lan Zhan had had his own thoughts of a big wedding, long before he’d proposed. He’d thought about kneeling next to Wei Ying with their families behind them, with no one rolling their eyes or stroking their beard disapprovingly, but those thoughts had fallen to the wayside now.
“I thought I wanted it.” Wei Ying confesses, pouting just a little as he presses his thumbs into the fabric of Lan Zhan’s slacks, the weight of his hands warm and comforting. “I thought I wanted to see the look on your uncle’s face when he realized you weren’t joking about marrying me, too.” Wei Ying says, his nose wrinkling as the smile on his face threatens to outshine the moon.
His uncle hadn’t thought he was joking when he told him about their engagement, he hadn’t said anything at all for a few long moments, and then he’d nodded and Lan Zhan had known that the conversation was finished. “My uncle knows I would not joke about marrying you.” Lan Zhan says slowly, looking Wei Ying in the eye and hoping that he would understand. “I would never, Wei Ying is too important.”
“Lan Zhan! You can’t just say things like that!” Wei Ying cries, his voice loud enough that Lan Zhan thinks they’ll be caught and dragged back to the party, though no one ever comes. “What about you? What kind of wedding do you want?”
“Any wedding would be fine as long as you are there.” Lan Zhan says, he doesn’t have to think about it, there’s no reason to, not when he would marry Wei Ying right where they were, sitting at the end of a dock with their hands on each other.
“We could elope.” Wei Ying grins, sitting up on his knees and shuffling forward, he doesn’t sit in Lan Zhan’s lap yet, but it’s a near thing, just a few inches away as Lan Zhan sets his hands on Wei Ying’s hips.
“Mn.”
“We wouldn’t even have to tell anyone where we’re going, we could drop the rabbits off at my sister’s house, A-Ling would love that.” Wei Ying’s arms wrap around Lan Zhan’s neck then and Lan Zhan pulls him into his lap on instinct, burying his face in Wei Ying’s neck.
“Jin Ling has gotten better at handling them.” Lan Zhan admits, thinking back to the way he’d gently carried one of them the last time they’d babysat for Jiang Yanli, a few months earlier, Lan Zhan wouldn’t have dreamt about handing the little boy one of their rabbits and letting him wander their apartment with it.
“Jiang Cheng will be upset, he’s already sending me color palettes and fabric swatches.”
“I will protect Wei Ying.”
“Your brother will be disappointed, he won’t say it, but he’ll be disappointed.”
“Huan will forgive us.” Lan Zhan would be surprised if his brother hadn’t already considered the likelihood of them running away together.
“Lan Zhan, we’re eloping, aren’t we?” Wei Ying asks, pulling away just enough to look at Lan Zhan, his smile has already turned misty by the time Lan Zhan allows himself to be gently pried away from Wei Ying’s neck.
“If Wei Ying wants.” Lan Zhan answers, bringing a hand up to Wei Ying’s cheek again, his thumb stroking over his bottom lip before Lan Zhan pulls him down into a kiss. It’s gentle, and quick, but neither one of them pulls away from it completely, their foreheads pressed together. “Whenever Wei Ying wants.”
“Lan Zhan, if you tell me that I might want to get married tomorrow morning.” Wei Ying laughs, his bangs brushing against Lan Zhan’s cheeks and tickling him.
“Whenever Wei Ying wants.” Lan Zhan repeats, blinking slowly and smiling as he looks up at his fiance
“What if I wanted to get married in the next fifteen minutes?”
“Great Aunt Yi would be willing to officiate.” Lan Zhan answers simply and Wei Ying laughs again.
“You’re teasing me again, Lan Zhan.”
“Wei Ying teased me first.”
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Text
The Handmaiden🌹6
Warnings: eventual dark elements ~ nonconsensual sex (more tags to be added as fic continues)
This is dark!(king)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.
Summary: Princess Madeline has left her homeland to marry a king. On her journey, she has brought her most trusted handmaiden. Little do either of them know how perilous their new home will be.
Note: Okay, yeah, here’s another chapter for y’all. I expect your patience will start to wear thin, hehehe. Thanks for sticking by me, y’all.
I really hope you enjoy. 💋
<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!
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You peeked over your shoulder as the king’s shadow encased you. He stood just on the other side of the cushioned bench as he watched you. You turned back to him and even in the dim, you could see his smirk. He sighed and sat on the bench heavily. He pushed his hair back and dropped his hand to the seat. He patted it. A silent order, but an order nonetheless.
You withheld a sigh of your own and crossed the room. There was little use in trying to push the stone door open on your own. It would take much too long and you had no doubt he’d stop you with just words. Besides, if you ran from him now, he’d catch you sooner or later. This castle was much smaller than that in the capital.
You sat and his hand settled on your thigh. His fingers rubbed you through your skirts as he measured his words.
“I’m waiting for you to ask me about these new duties but you are as silent as a mouse,” He teased. “As ever. Your silence might be useful in future.”
“Just tell me,” You hung your head in resignation.
“As it stands, you must still address me as propriety accords, little mouse.” He hissed.
“Your majesty,” You sat straight. “What are these new duties?”
He snickered and his hand slipped between your legs and he gripped your thigh.
“Your old shall remain but in a limited capacity. See to my wife; wake her, feed her, bathe her, dress her, and see her to my bed or hers when it is appropriate. But I do not see why she should need you on her shoulder when she is at court, hmm?” He shifted closer. “And she agrees. We’ve spoken over these last days and we did come to the conclusion that you both are in need of some… maturity.” 
You bristled and stared at the stone hearth. You said nothing as he turned his hand to cup your sex through your skirt.
“Between your chores, should I call for you, you will come and you will do all I require of you. At night, she will think you in the servants’ chambers but you shall be in mine or one much like this, according to the circumstance.” He spoke as if it was business; the same tone he took in council. 
“Why should I betray the queen?” You asked as you grabbed his wrist.
“Because your insolence will not mean merely your own misery, but hers,” He curled his fingers and you squirmed. “I will see to it and I will make you watch.”
“Your majesty, you can’t--”
“I will only do what you would force me to,” He said. “A servant’s disobedience has its costs.”
He twisted his hand around suddenly and grabbed yours. He tugged it into his lap and pressed it to his breeches. You felt his hardened member and tried to pull away. His grip didn’t waver as his other hand picked at the laces. You looked at him as his eyes clung to you and he smirked.
“You must show me you can be obedient,” He snarled. “Now I haven’t much time before I am due for my next appointment, so you will be quick about it or you will atone for the delay.”
His breeches loosened and he moved your hand up to the slack waist. You struggled with him briefly before he roughly slid your hand down the front of them and held your hand to his cock. Your eyes widened at the girth firmly against your palm. He closed his hands with yours around his length and slowly guided you up and down. His other hand grabbed the back of your head and he drew you close, his lips on your cheek.
“Just like that,” He ordered. “You owe me.”
You shuddered but your hand kept the motion. You couldn’t stop even as he rescinded his hand. You were terrified. Shocked. You’d never held a man in your hand before. Never been so close; so intimate. He held you closer and let out a shaky breath.
“I thought of you the entire journey,” He breathed. “I can’t stop. When I’m with her, inside her, I can only think of you.”
You closed your eyes in disgust, ashamed that he should say such of Madeline. That such words were inspired by you. That as you stroked him you felt that tingle in your core. 
Had you truly asked for this? Had you been so ignorant to have lured this king unknowingly? To have betrayed your own friend?
“Grip it tighter, yes, faster,” He growled. “Faster. Faster…” 
He quaked as your hand moved to his specification. You only wanted it to be over. To be away from him. To be gone before he could know that you felt so wrongly. He urged you on as his arm fell around your waist and he lifted his nose to nuzzle your hair.
He spasmed all at once and you felt the warmth spurt down your hand and between your fingers. It cooled as you continued to stroke him and he cried out as he stopped you. 
“En- enough,” He uttered and flinched. “Whew, oh… that was--” 
You pulled your hand from his breeches and frowned at the stickiness. He raised a brow at the sight and chuckled.
“I should make you clean it up yourself,” He purred. “Another time, perchance. There should be some cloths in the cabinet there. You might fetch some so that we might return to our respective duties with a semblance of… normalcy.”
You rose slowly and stiffly. He smacked your ass as you turned away and approached the tall cabinet hidden in the corner.
“You might think of me as you work,” He cooed. “For I shall surely think of nothing else but you.”
🌹
When you were dismissed, you were to return to Madeline. You were sickened as she embraced you fondly and fluttered about trying to decide what to wear for the feast. The pale pink satin or the vibrant aquamarine silk made little difference; she’d look splendid. You went along with her choice; the pink was more becoming and brought out the undertones in her cheeks. At least, she said so.
You strapped her into the gown and hooked the golden necklace that sparkled with rubies around her neck. She let her hair flow freely and stepped into a pair of canary slippers. The chain around her waist matched that at her throat and she looked every bit the queen as any aged portrait hung in this castle or the next.
You could barely look at her. You felt your palm with your thumb and swore there was still a trace of that repulsive mess there. You shuddered every time you thought of it. You kept busy to hide your discomfort from Madeline, though she seemed ensnared enough with her own.
“Do you expect the king should like it?” She swished her skirts around. 
“How could he not?” You mustered a smile. “You shall be the shining gem in the crown this night.”
“I hope so,” She touched her cheeks and cringed. “Oh, you don’t know how horrid it’s been. The entire time we rode together he lectured me until he could not stand it, thence he took to his saddle and acted as if I did not exist.”
You glanced away and gulped. She paced anxiously as she wrung her hands. 
“And you know those lords and ladies did hear through the walls of our tent.” She continued. “I am certain you must have at the rear… I couldn’t help but cry out. I do not know how to appease him. I do as he wills but he only wants… more”
She blanched as she saw your face, you clung to the window sill to keep your balance.
“Oh, forgive me, I should not be so forward but… I haven’t anyone to tell and it is most torturous to sit and suffocate in such isolation.” She flurried towards you as her skirts loudly stirred around her legs. “You do know I missed you very much… but…” She paused and looked down. “Well, you should expect I might not see you so much as before.”
You sensed she was withholding from the topic and you didn’t betray that you’d already been informed. You nodded as she clutched your hand.
“He says you are too much like a mother to me, too close to a friend,” She lowered her long lashes. “He thinks it unbecoming for me to act so familiar with a servant and so he should seek to separate us… but only a little. You will still see to my wardrobe and my meals.” She shook her head and let go of you reluctantly. “You must sleep in the servants’ quarters however.”
You tried to act surprised but didn’t need to feign your gloom. She hadn’t any idea what these changes truly meant for you. Or even, for her own marriage. 
“Your majesty, do not feel sad for me, I understand why these adjustments are not of your choosing but necessary,” You assured her. “Know that I do not hold them against you and I am grateful to remain in your service, whatever the circumstance.”
“Oh, you love me far more than you should,” She spun around and held her hands to her chest dramatically, “If you only knew how weak I am. How futile a fight I did put up.”
“We cannot worry for it, your majesty,” You said. “You mustn’t let yourself be so forlorn before the feast. You must prove your mettle to the king and you cannot do so with tears in your eyes.”
She raised her head as she turned back to you. She dropped her arms and gave a pathetic smile. “Oh, what shall I ever do when you are not here?”
🌹
You didn’t attend the feast. You were to unpack Madeline’s trunks as you had her first night as queen. You were thankful for it, you never enjoyed the hubbub of those occasions. Your work, however, was interrupted by a knock at the door. 
It was late and the festivities would be winding down. It might be Madeline returning but why should she knock at her own door. You stepped away from the open trunk and neared the door. Another servant, this one wore the faded orange of Lord Parriser’s household, greeted you meekly.
“You are to tend to the queen,” She announced. “The king does bid you assist her back to her chambers as she is… unable to herself.”
You frowned. A stab sunk deep into your chest and you wondered what could have occured. Had the king betrayed his malice before his own court? Had he gone so far as you harm her? 
You dropped the stockings in your hand and flitted past the other servant. She closed the door and followed you but struggled to keep pace.
You ducked through one of the narrow doorways meant for servants near the back of the hall. The king sat at the royal table upon his dais as his eyes burned onto the floor. Madeline was drunkenly doing a jig as she held her skirts aloft to expose her legs to the knee. Her footwork was admirable if not sloppy and she swayed as she closed her eyes and dance out of tune.
Your stomach dropped and you touched your cheeks. Oh, how awful! Her first true feast as queen besides her wedding and she was acting a fool. She’d be known as the jester queen of court and no doubt, face another remonstrance from her husband.
As you edge past the far trestle, Steven’s eyes left his wife and his brows raised as he spotted you. You had a terrible feeling that this wasn’t the queen’s doing. You went to her as the other nobles began to notice her little jaunt and you grabbed her hand gently.
“Your majesty,” You whispered, “You should--”
She took your other hand and pulled you to her. She guided you in the clumsy routine and you struggled against her. She sang your name and twirled you around.
“Stop! Please, your majesty, the king should--” You glanced up at him. “The king shouldn’t be happy if you carry on thus.”
“The king is never happy,” She slurred. “And so let me be!”
“Please, your majesty,” You stopped so harshly she nearly stumbled and you kept her from faltering. “Madeline, your subjects are watching. You would turn them against you in kind.” You caught her attention at last, her cheeks rosy with wine. “I am the only one here who means you well. Let me get you away. To bed.” You kept your voice low. “Aren’t you sleepy, your majesty?”
Through her drunken haze, she seemed to realise her misdeed. She shook as her eyes widened.
“Does the king watch me?” She asked, too frightened to look for herself.
“He does,” You confirmed. “So we should away from his gaze, shouldn’t we?”
“We should, we should,” She grasped your arm and leaned on your heavily. “Please, take me away.”
“As you wish, your majesty,” You whispered as you tugged her away from the crowd. “It won’t be so bad once you sleep. I am certain that so many are in their own cups, they won’t recall even their own antics.”
You guided her along the wall and through the same door you entered. You glanced back as you entered the corridor, the king’s eyes aimed in your direction though you doubted he could see you. He stood and beckoned to Barras. 
Madeline would doze quickly and you would be expected to begin your new duties.
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tumbledfreckles · 3 years
Text
Closer
A Blackinnon Bridgerton AU
Read below or on AO3
"Stare into my eyes."
She looked up in apprehension. Caught on his eyes and held there, like a fly in a web. They were soft now, gentle. Like he was trying to prevent her from spooking. She did her best to block out the noise of the ballroom, the revel makers, the dancers around them.
As if she could forget that everyone was staring at them.
He squeezed the hand he held. A light pressure on her fingers she wouldn't have thought him capable of when they had first met. Only a short number of weeks ago, in the presence of her childhood friend, his now brother. A smile graced his lips, one of encouragement, meant only for her. She followed the motion of his eyes and curtsied as he bowed.
"Closer."
The hand on her waist made her breath catch in her throat. Her hand fell to the crook of his elbow, before sliding up to his shoulder. He pulled her toward him, until she was against him, so close the heat of his body scorched through her dress. She'd never been this close to a man before.
"If this is to work, they must believe that we are madly in love."
His words reminded her that this was a ruse. An act. A game of make believe with the highest of stakes, her future life.
As they started through the moves of the dance, her head was swarmed with the memories of less than an hour before. Memories of fear and revulsion, followed by anger and apprehension, and then, in the unlikeliest of forms, came hope.
He had happened upon her moments after she'd punched Lockhart, straight in the face, for trying to force himself on her. In the dark of the garden she'd only had time to thank her lucky stars her brothers had taught her how to hit someone properly, and that she hadn't broken her thumb.
She hadn't had a chance to even contemplate the precariousness of her situation when he emerged from the darkness.
"Bravo. He had that one coming to him."
Sirius Black. The Duke of Grimmauld.
The handsome rake who hadn't been seen for years. The untimely death and disappearance of his brother, rumoured to be linked to the rise of Lord Voldemort, had seen the Duke, then still a teenager, flee overseas some years ago. The passing of his father, the transfer of the title, had seen his reluctant return. He had begrudgingly taken over management of the estates and land attached to the Dukedom but had yet to be seen in the presence of his family.
Tonight Marlene had found out why.
"Are you alright?"
Marlene was staring down at the unconscious buffoon at her feet, still not processing the events of the last few minutes.
An argument with her childhood friend turned guardian, a misplaced agreement to marry said buffoon, the eyes of the party guests on her had sent Marlene out in the garden. She had wanted a few moments alone. To gather her thoughts, regain her countenance, come up with a plan to quietly extract herself from a less than desirable engagement.
Now she stood, mere moments from the darkest part of the garden, seconds from ruining her reputation with two men.
"I am fine. Just fine. Oh God, what am I going to do?"
"Marry me, Miss McKinnon," the perhaps not quite unconscious Lord Gilderoy Lockhart groaned from the ground.
"Romantic, I am sure," the Duke curled his lip in disgust. "I hope you have not said yes."
"Of course not," Marlene spat the answer, as she rubbed her knuckles.
"Oh good. Can I kick him then?"
"Do whatever you would like. I need to figure out what I am going to do," Marlene paced back and forth, wringing her hands.
"It can not be all that bad," the Duke may have given Lockhart a few nudges with his toe, based on the sounds that came from the ground.
"Says a man who does not need to find a husband."
"Thankfully no, I do not. But I can not imagine that you would have such trouble, a beautiful woman such as yourself."
"I was not having any trouble, at all," Marlene tried to ignore the flush creeping up her neck and into her cheeks at his words. He'd stated it more like a fact than a compliment. She shouldn't let it get to her head. "Until that damn Lady Bettledown started spreading her ridiculous gossip sheet around."
"Ah, yes. I have seen that devil of a woman all but pronouncing you a spinster, taking joy in knocking down the season prize diamond. Chased your suitors away, has she?"
"I beg that you would not jest, Your Grace. At least not about my life. Which is what she trifles with."
"You seem too sensible a woman to care for marriage so much."
"My family is gone, I am the last of the McKinnons. But a woman can not inherit property, nor wealth. Friends, the Potters, as you well know, have taken me in out of the goodness of their heart. But that can not last forever. I can not be a burden to my friends. And so I must marry."
"How practical."
"Indeed," she took a breath. In for a penny, she thought. "But if I must marry, I want the one thing that my parents had."
"A fancy wedding?"
"Love," her sharp reply pulled the laughter from his words, his face. "I want to marry for love. It is my life after all. So I beg that you do not jest with it."
"My apologies, Miss. I do tend to use humour as a reflex. But, regrettably, Bettledown's words have been a damn thorn in my side, as well."
"Surely a Duke such as yourself does not need to bother with what is written about him in the gossip sheets," Marlene's disbelief carried a strong note of sarcasm.
"My dear Miss McKinnon, I despise to tell you that the meddling Bettledown has all but issued a challenge to my family. By announcing my return to polite society, she has all but challenged them to find me a wife. One who is suitable for their needs."
"And what are their needs?"
"Someone who shares their beliefs. Beliefs that I do not adhere to. Beliefs that I am, in fact, disgusted by. They think that if I was wed to someone who follows their way of life, then they would convince me to change my ideals, to theirs."
"Are they right? Could that happen?"
The Duke laughed bitterly, "Definitely not. I have too strong a character to be changed by a woman."
"Of course," though he oozed charm, and was undoubtedly handsome, the cool dismissal of a woman as someone to listen to turned Marlene off him. Or it would have, had she ever even considered him a prospect.
"Well," she took several steps backwards, towards the ballroom and the party that had suffocated her. "I would appreciate it if you could mention this no one, and I will leave you to your… whatever it was that you were doing."
She turned to go, eager to escape, to forget that the man she might yet still have to marry lay prostrate on the floor, yet to rouse fully. It was only as she placed a foot onto the first step up to the manor that his voice stopped her.
"We could use each other, you know," the Dukes's voice was careful. Considered.
Marlene turned back, slow, hesitant. "What do you mean?"
"You need to find a husband. Someone much more agreeable and suited to you than this pathetic sod," he aimed another kick toward the lifeless Lockhart.
"How could you help with that?"
He was on her in three long strides. She stiffened as he stepped into her space. Closer than was proper. Close enough that anyone entering the garden would assume the worst and she would be compromised. Her virtue, her value, diminished.
And yet, she did not step back.
"I could make you seem desirable," the Duke reached out, softly tucking a lock that had come free from her coiffed hair back behind her ear. "If you were on my arm, it would bring you to the attention of other men. You could have your pick of the most eligible bachelors."
Marlene tried not exhale audibly as his hand dropped from where it had caressed her skin, his fingertips trailing across her neck. "And how could I help you?"
"You are from an old family, Miss McKinnon. While you may be the last left of them, and the man my family sees as their leader is most likely responsible for that, you are still from an old family that in many ways represents what they value."
"I would never - I could never," Marlene was stopped by his placating hand on her wrist.
"I know," he stroked gently. "And that is why I know I can trust you in this. Why you can trust me. If I knew nothing else about you, your disdain for the values that my family holds most dear would be enough."
She stared at him for long moments, trying to read his indecipherable gaze. Eventually, she nodded for him to continue.
"By courting you, my family will believe I am bending to their will. By beginning a relationship with you, I will get what I desperately crave."
"And what is that?" Marlene felt her teeth sink into her lip at the end of her words. His eyes followed the movement. She was nervous for his answer. What could a man like the Duke want so badly he would come up with a such a scheme?
"Freedom," the word fell from his lips like honey. He spoke it reverently. Honestly.
She believed him.
"So, your plan is that we will form an attachment? We will pretend to court, in order to give you the space and peace that you so desire, and in doing so, make me desirable enough that I could attract the attentions of a Prince, should one appear?"
"That is my plan. I only have one condition," the Duke's lips curved into a smile. It spoke of mischief, of humour that was kept well hidden under his usually dark, disdainful countenance.
"And what is that?"
"You must not fall in love with me."
He was goading her. Marlene could see it plainly across his face. It made his eyes dance. She fought to maintain her temper. To wipe the smug look off his face.
"I am more concerned that you will fall in love with me. You have already commented on how pretty you find me."
She succeeded in her mission, the smirk was gone, but the darker flare in his eyes left her feeling even less safe than she had before.
"I believe I said you were beautiful," his tone sent a shiver down her spine. "So we have an agreement?"
He held out his hand toward her. She looked at it and then looked back at him.
"Yes," she placed her hand in his. "We have an agreement."
That was how she'd come to re-enter the party on the Duke's arm. How they walked slowly, but purposefully through the throngs of finely dressed attendees to the dance floor, just as the band moved to strike up a new number. Whispers and nudges followed them across the room. Marlene was unused to such attention and would have stumbled if not for the Duke's reassuring presence at her side.
And so they danced. Stepping and skipping perfectly as if this wasn’t their first dance together. Eyes only on each other. Her hand gripped his shoulder, fingers pressing into the firm muscle she found there. His hands, one warm and solid on her waist, the other enclosing hers were her lifeline. Every time she felt overwhelmed and her gaze started to slip, he brought her back with a squeeze, his thumb rubbing back and forth.
The music swelled and then slowed, as did their movements. When they came to a stop, instead of moving back, as protocol dictated and society expected, he moved forward. His lips fell to her ear, so close she could feel his breath as he spoke.
"Well done, Miss McKinnon. Act one complete."
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downwiththeficness · 3 years
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A Need So Great-Chapter 10.5
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Summary: Eva Moore is assigned to work the last year of her contract with the DEA in Colombia. She just wants to get to the end of her tenure, but she keeps getting drawn further into a string of murders in the city. It isn’t long before she’s forced to face the ghosts of her past.
Word Count: ~3,400
Warnings: F!Masturbation
A/N: For the purposes of this story, Carrillo isn’t married--or, if you like, divorced. A/B/O dynamics are prevalent, and they come with their own warning. The overall rating for this story is Explicit, although not every chapter will contain adult themes.
Taglist: @dirtynerdy98 @1zashreena1 @heresathreebee @deliciouslyclassytrash @maybege @kid-from-new-zealand @clydesducktape @revolution-starter
Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 8.5, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21
Eva woke, her hands reached out towards the space where he’d been.  The sheets were cold, though the pillow still had a little indention on the side closest to her. She flipped over and slid from the bed and pulled on her usual long t shirt, throwing her hair up in a bun as she made her way out into the living room. Feet squishing against the carpet, Eva squinted in the very early morning light filtering through her windows.
The sun was not even quite up yet, casting everything in a blue-gray tone that would momentarily begin to turn pink and orange. Eva rounded the turn into the living room, catching sight of Horacio’s head bent over, his hands tying the laces of his boots.
“Were you going to say goodbye?” she asked, no bite in her tone.
He’d made coffee, the smell pulling her into the kitchen. She reached into the cupboard and pulled down a mug—North Dakota State University, Fargo. Creamer. Sugar. Pour. Eva turned and leaned against he counter, watching him circle around the couch and approach. His face was carefully neutral. She rolled her eyes, drinking deeply.
“You were sleeping,” he offered, reaching over to where his discarded mug was sitting, the Las Vegas one again.
She shrugged, “I wouldn’t have minded if you woke me.”
Nodding, he set the mug in the sink, “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Eva hummed, taking another sip of coffee. Even with the mug sitting right up against her mouth, she could smell him.  He’d showered, shaved, put on cologne, but, underneath, it was still there. Her fingers clenched on the mug as she attempted to take nice, calm breaths. It didn’t help. Her mouth felt dry despite the beverage in her hands, her skin prickling with awareness. She asked a question to distract herself.
“How long do you think the meeting will take?”
His brows lifted a little as he thought, “I have no idea. Depends on what it is. Likely, its a debrief from  the raid.”
One corner of her mouth turned up, “You haven’t debriefed on that yet?”
“Not officially,” then, “Can I come back afterwards?”
Eva’s heart warmed that he was asking rather than assuming—even more that he looked just a tad bit unsure. She reached out and put her hand on his where it was braced against the counter near her hip.
“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”
His smile was soft and happy. She couldn’t resist rising onto her tip toes and placing a quick kiss to that smile. As good as her intentions may have been, it did not end out being a quick kiss. He leaned into her, a breath pushing out through his nose as he wrapped an arm around her middle. On the counter, he rotated his hand, threading their fingers together. Eva moaned lowly, nipping at his lower lip, needing to taste more of him.
Her nerves lit up, heat suffusing every inch of her body. The flesh along her neck and spine tightened, goosebumps rising. She arched up into him, satisfied by the groan the movement seemed to force out of his chest.
Pulling away with a gasp, he said hoarsely, “I really do need to go.”
Eva nodded, mouth open, already using his shoulder to pull herself back up to him. He took the kiss greedily, slipping his hand from hers so that he could reach down under her thighs to set her atop the counter. Stepping into her space, he yanked her hips to the edge. She didn’t have to be encouraged to drape her legs over his thighs.
Rucking up the t shirt, he palmed her breasts, thumbs circling roughly over her nipples. Hips rolling, Eva ran her fingers down the buttons of his uniform, tracing his belt buckle before giving the pronounced bulge below it a firm stroke. Against her mouth, he drew in a deep, shuddering breath. He let her rub along the length of him a few times, before he grasped her wrists and set her hands firmly on either side of her hips. Leaning a little weight on them, he rested his forehead against hers.
“I can’t stay,” he whispered, eyes locked on her folds where they peeked out from under her shirt.
Relaxing the muscles of her hips open, Eva tilted them upwards, giving him a full, generous view of how wet she was. He rocked on his feet, a little growl rumbling in his chest.
“I mean it, Eva. I’m already late.”
Horacio didn’t move, his jaw working, eyes dark. Eva let him look, could feel her body growing even more wet, slick sliding sensuously over her folds.
“I’ll be back,” he said, finally looking at her face. “I’ll go to this meeting and I’ll come back here.”
She smiled coyly, “Stop at the drug store on the way back.”
Seemingly against his will, he huffed out an amused laugh, “I’ll do that.”
When she leaned up to kiss him again, he pulled away, hands constricting around her wrists in warning. Eva let her body fall back, her head knocking against the cabinets. He gave her one more once over, tongue wetting his lips. Then, he was striding out of her apartment without looking back.
Eva sat there for a while, body pulsing. Then, she hopped down and, leaving her coffee on the counter, she headed back to bed.
She woke for the second time that day on the brink of an orgasm, her fingers shoved deeply inside of her, a half formed dreamed lingering in her muddle mind. It took next to nothing to push her over with a sharp cry.
Stunned and heaving, Eva stared at the ceiling until the blood was no longer rushing in her ears. Blinking, she sat up and pushed the hair that had fallen out of her bun from her face.  
“Okay,” she said to no one in particular, “I probably needed that.”
Still a little lightheaded, she shoved the comforter down and rolled out of the bed. Moving towards the shower, she yawned wide, stripping the t shirt from her body and throwing it somewhere in the vicinity of her hamper.
The shower was hot and soon the room was filled with steam.  She scrubbed at her face, letting the water cascade over her. Her body was still buzzing from her dream, though the details were extremely hazy. The only clear thing she could remember was the feeling of Horacio’s hands running up her legs from ankle to thigh, pushing them open. Everything else was just sensation and the feeling of her body clenching down.
Shivering despite the hot water, Eva grabbed the loofah from where she’d dropped it the night before and drizzled body wash on it. She started to run it over her arms and chest, yelping when the scratch of the fabric bit too deep. Curious, she thumbed over the bundle. It wasn’t any different than it had been less than a day before. Dubiously, she tried again, hissing when the feeling bordered on pain.
Staring at the loofah, Eva bit her lip, wondering at what the fuck was going on. Chucking it to the side, she reached for the shampoo, cleaning her hair, wincing when her nails scratched a little too hard at her scalp. After gingerly rinsing the suds from her hair, Eva turned off the water and steeped out, blindly reaching for a towel.
It took at least ten minutes of starting and stopping to get her body dry, her skin somehow too sensitive for even the soft, fluffy towel. Eva sat on the edge of the tub, the towel hanging from her fingertips, breathing deeply.  It felt like she’d brushed her entire body against the front glass of a tv, that fuzzy, electric sizzle radiating all over.
When she was able to stand, Eva padded out to the bedroom and ransacked her dresser for something to wear.  Everything she owned was too clingy, too scratchy, too thick. Shoving the drawer closed, she turned and looked around the room desperately. Nothing...nothing...nothing...there!
Sliding down onto her knees, she dug through the hamper until she pulled out one of his shirts, holding it up with a wide smile. Burying her face in it, Eva moaning lowly, inhaling his scent, still relatively fresh. On the exhale, a whine escaped her throat, sounding needy even to her own ears. Shaking her head, Eva pulled the shirt over her, the baggy material hanging over-sized on her body.
She inhaled. There. That was right.
Eyes flicking to the bed, Eva contemplated getting back in and sleeping more, but nixed the idea.  She wasn’t tired anymore. She was wide awake and filled with a kind of nervous energy that had her bouncing on her feet. Tucking her arms against her chest, she scuttled out into the living room and sat heavily on the couch, reaching for the remote.
She flipped through the channels for a while, finding nothing that was going to hold her attention. Distracted, Eva laid back on the cushions.  The clock on the wall read nearly eleven. He’d been gone for a few hours, surely the meeting wouldn’t take much longer. She selfishly wanted him back with her, in her arms, in her bed, despite knowing that what he was doing was important. Eva chastised herself silently. She could be patient.  She should be patient. He’d come back and then she could…
Her mind drifted off into a favored, and closely held fantasy. He’d spent hours going down on her over the last few weeks, happily drawing orgasm after orgasm from her. He was always moving inside her by the time her brain kick started again and so she never really got the chance to return the favor. The few times she’d tried, he’d tucked two fingers under her chin and pulled her back to his mouth, stopping her thought process entirely. Eva knew that she’d have to catch him off guard, which was almost never. He was always scanning the room for threats, no matter where they were, and only very rarely fully relaxed.
It would take effort, but she’d have to wake up before him, press little kisses over his chest, down his stomach, fingers gently rustling the trail of hair leading downwards. It would be easiest to do after one of their late nights, where they were too exhausted to throw on clothes afterwards, sleeping naked and entangled.
She could use her hands to gently stroke him, coaxing him to arousal. Eva wondered if she could do it without waking him. He was not a sound sleeper, waking if she so much as turned over in her sleep. She would have to be very, very careful. Her mouth watered as she thought about taking him in her mouth. She didn’t think she could take more than a few inches, but she definitely wanted to try. What she couldn’t reach with her lips and tongue, she take in her hands.
Maybe he’d wake as she sucked on the tip, tongue running over the slit. Groggy, it would take a few seconds for him to get his bearings. She imagined he’d suck air between his teeth, hands reaching for her. She’d swat them away, focusing on a slow, teasing rhythm. Eva wondered if he’d keep still, letting her do as she liked or if his hips would flex forward, pushing his cock further into her mouth.
Shifting on the couch, Eva bit her lip and ran her hand down her belly to touch herself gingerly. She was wet, messy, and swollen. Moaning, she pushed two fingers inside, curving them up. Pinpoints of pleasure blossomed all over. She used her thumb to circle her clit, her thighs shaking as her arousal spiked. Eva came hard and fast, her mouth open in a soundless cry.
Her fingers kept going, winding her higher, high pitched whimpers escaping her throat. She ground against her own hand, lips pulled back from her teeth as she sought out that second orgasm.  It hit her like a train, her ears ringing.
Eva panted, sweat pooling below her. Her thighs clenched together, an inexplicable pulse in her core.  She sat up and looked down at herself, bewildered. She’d just had two deeply pleasing orgasms and she was still fucking horny. That was...not new…
Swinging her legs over the edge, Eva stood and paced.  Each step created a little friction, her body answering with a dull throb.  She grabbed her purse from where she’d thrown it the day before digging for her pack of suppressants.  She’d taken them correctly. For safety’s sake, she grabbed her cold coffee from earlier and downed one.  Eva knew it would do no good. She was beginning her heat cycle and it was unlikely that it could be stopped now.  
She didn’t know how long she stood there, staring at the sink while she processed this new development, but her phone ringing snapped her out of it. Eva stumbled to it, picking it up with a scratchy ‘hello’.
“Did I wake you?”
Oh, God. Dear, sweet lord. The sound of his voice made her knees buckle.  She had to brace herself against the wall to stay upright.
“No,” she said with a little bit too much force. “No, I was awake.”
There was a beat of silence, then, “Are you alright?”
She swallowed a little moan at the concern in his voice, knees pressed together. No, I’m not alright. I’m  on the upswing of my heat and you’re not here with me.
“I’m okay.”
“Good,” he replied, “Listen, there’s something that’s come up. We’ve got a real chance at...we could get him this time.”
His words were stilted in a way that told Eva he was trying very hard not to be excited by the prospect of catching Escobar. He’d been tracking him for so long and there was a kind of timid hope underlying his tone.  She couldn’t do it.  She could not tell him.
“That’s great,” she managed, working to make her tone happy and bright.
She heard him sigh over the line, “I’m not going to make it back—I’m sorry. We’re heading out to a location pretty deep in the forest, a compound we got a tip about.”
Holding her hand over the receiver, Eva took a long, deep breath, “How—how long will you be gone?”
“A week, maybe a few days more.”
Eva’s entire world stopped, spun around, and fell face down on the floor. She scratched at the skin above her brow, trying to think of something to say that wasn’t begging him to come back and fuck her through the next few days while her heat continued to rise and crest.
“I’m not sure what is the appropriate thing to say, here.” She was going to try for a joke. “Is it ‘good luck’ or ‘happy hunting’?”
His laugh was genuine and it tunneled right down into her belly, adding to the pressure that was building at a rapid pace.  She had to get a handle on this really fucking fast.
“How about I just go with, ‘be safe’?”
Eva could hear his surprised inhale and it made her smile.
“I will. I’ll call you when I’m back.”
“You do that,” she whispered.
They said their goodbyes and then Eva was hanging up the phone, trying to work through what she was going to do. All the while, her pulse was rising, her body warming, slick dripping between her thighs. She could barely fucking think around the need piling higher and higher in her body. Inevitably, she came to the conclusion that there was really only one thing she could do.  She picked up the phone and let her office know that she was going to be out sick for the next week or so.
Turning, she headed for the bedroom, each step more excruciating than the next. By the time she got to the door, she was on her hands and knees. She had to make herself come again before she could even cross the threshold.
Breathing hard, she licked her dry lips and crawled hand over hand until she reached the bed.  Then, she rolled heavily to her side. Eva laid there for a while, sweating into the carpet. When she had the energy, she reached underneath the bed, fingers trailing along the edges of a cardboard box.  It turned as she grabbed at it, until her fingernail caught on the lip, pulling it towards her.
Hugging the box to her chest, Eva rolled to sitting.  She pulled off the lid and threw it to the side, reaching in and unwrapping the dildo from the spare shirt she’d kept it in. It had been an impulse purchase after she’d gotten out of prison. During her incarceration, she’d had two heats without a partner, thrown in solitary for her safety. Afterwards, Eva had decided that if she wasn’t going to have someone with her, she’d at least have the tool she needed to help her get through it as painlessly as possible.
Tracing her fingers over the length of it, Eva laid the first two over the knot at its base. She’d lingered over the decision as to whether or not to choose one with it. It felt a little too taboo to admit that this was what she needed it for, but Eva had forced herself to be practical. Even now, she could feel herself flush as she thought about sitting down on it and pushing that knot inside her.
Rising to her knees, Eva climbed onto the bed, falling to her back.  Panting with the exertion, she laid there for a moment and collected herself. The next wave would start soon and she wanted to rest while she could.
It didn’t take long, the steady hum of her arousal sizzling upwards through her skin. She breathed deep, centering herself as her mind took its leave and left only her writhing, needy body. She spread her wetness over her folds, slipping her fingers in to ensure a smooth glide.  Then, she grabbed the toy and pressed the tip in. Careful not to get ahead of herself, Eva let her body suck in the length at its leisure, until the knot was pressed right up against her.  
Fuck, but it felt good—her mind whispered that it could feel better. She could have a warm, solid man atop her, whose cock was thick enough to burn her when he pressed into her body. Very sternly, she told her mind to shut up. It was no use wishing for what she couldn’t have, and he was gone, anyway.  She’d take what she could get.
Still, her mind kept replaying the night previous.  How he’d held her wrists so tightly. How he’d used his weight to keep her still and open for him. She pumped the toy into herself, groaning at the memory. A thought snagged at her brain, something he’d said.
...feels too good when you ride me…
Eva hadn’t missed the way he looked up at her when she was bouncing on his cock, the way his hands gripped her, the praise he gave her. He liked watching her take her pleasure from him. It made her think that he’d very much like watching her take his knot in the same way.
Moaning loudly, Eva folded her body over and balanced on her knees. She let gravity pull her all the way down, the toy dragging against her walls. She knew she wasn’t going to be able to drag this out any longer. She needed it too much now.  Grinding down on it, she took a deep breath, and let her hips open wide, the knot pushing past her opening with an internal ‘pop’. She screamed, coming around it, body shaking so hard that she could not remain upright.
That’s how it went for several days.  She’d wake up, fuck an orgasm out of herself, pass out. She couldn’t eat, couldn’t move from the bed except to use the restroom. A few times, she leaned over the tub and guzzled water from the tap. The heat burned through her in a way that left her exhausted and weak and sad. At its height, she cried tears all over her pillow, her only thought that she wanted him to be there.
Thankfully, it eased after the third day, the downward slope filled with more naps and less frantic masturbation. By day six, she was up and moving, eating a little, and watching TV listlessly.  She’d have to go back into the office eventually, but for now she was happy to do absolutely nothing while her body recovered.
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wolfcha1k · 3 years
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As soon as I started practicing kisses I suddenly can't help adding them now lmao something fluffy and firey for you heathens. Still sfw content tho ofc. Based on the new fanart I did recently so some of it doesn't match the art in hindsight :"D I think now its just gonna be a new tradition to write something to go along with my pieces.
They were taking one of their occasional adventures away from the Betterman Farm, where they would hunker down in the wilderness for several days at a time. For a while, Guy and Eep would forget there was an entire world that they shared with other people; their family. It was just the two of them, hunting and foraging and seeing the beauty the land itself provided.
She knew her home was the Farm now but her heart would never deny she was always meant for the untamed wild where the sun stretched on forever. She wasn't sure why Guy had lead her towards the desert as an area for camp, it was hot and unspeakably dry during the day, sweltering even. Her entire life had been the dusty desert and the canyon with that awful cave as the only escape from the heat.
As dusk fell, Guy had only grinned at her. They'd set up camp not long after the daytime sun joined the many nighttime suns in the sky. The sight of how many slept above her still was awe striking. Guy skinned a boar they'd hunted together, something Eep wanted to teach Dawn about someday. She knew as much as Guy enjoyed his safer, more pampered life with the Bettermans, he was still that adventurous nomad born and raised. He lived for the thrill his skills provided him and how all his ideas saved him from many obstacles.
Eep watched the fire flicker and sway, it was still surprising how alive looked. She leaned her hands out to toast her palms, the desert chilled now the sun set. She didn’t understand that either, how such a mercilessly hot place can become so cold.
The embers glowed in her green eyes when she felt Guy touch her wrist. Eep turned to him, seeing the fire reflecting in his dark gaze. He was beautiful, one of the most wonderful things she ever saw even after everything he'd shown her.
"I got the boar skinned, just need help putting a skewer through it," Guy said, gesturing towards the beast. They had parked themselves by an oasis, giving Guy a way to wash off the blood from his hands.
Eep had offered to do it, blood never phased her but Guy insisted she just rest. In the meantime she had bathed in the spring, the sand and sweat on her uncomfortable before settling down by the fire to wait on her mate. She hadn't wanted to admit it but she felt rather tired after the long trek. Guy had his reasons for picking this place but he could be so strange and peculiar about it in a way she never understood.
Perhaps that was why she loved him so much. There was nobody else in the world like him, even if she could only count the amount of people she knew on both hands.
Eep stood up from her crouching position. "Sure, I'm starving," she exclaimed, eying the pig carcass greedily. "Are you absolutely certain we can't just - "
"No, you are not sinking your teeth into that thing without cooking it first," Guy scolded her, it was more akin to when Ugga was telling off her children for causing mischief. "You'll get sick. I need to bring you back to Grug in one piece or I'll be in pieces."
"Fineeeee," Eep compromised with a dramatic sigh, leaning her neck back before walking over to help her mate spear the pig.
Eep with Guy’s help, well, mostly Eep but she liked making him feel useful, carried the spitted animal towards the campfire and held it over it. Guy had crafted some little makeshift contraption with wood and rope he'd packed, so they could use a pulley system to rotate the roasting boar
The two took alternating shifts.
"It's funny," Eep couldn’t help but muse suddenly, taking in the view. The fire made the golden sandstone burn a brilliant red color, reminding her of amber.
"What's funny?" Guy asked from his post by the pig, rotating it with a careful eye so it cooked evenly.
"Well…" Eep leaned her elbow on her bent knee, her chin on her hand. "We met in a desert and you asked me to marry you in one too."
Guy tried hiding his smile by turning back to cooking but Eep saw it, perceptive as always. He pretended to ignore her narrow eyed look. "Funny how fate works," he quipped and heard Eep snort in a very unadulterated fashion.
"You planned this," Eep accused him and Guy finally was forced to face the music because the boar didn't need this much turning on the spit.
"Me? Plan things? You must be mistaken," Guy quipped, his tone betraying him. His grin was wide. "Okay, you got me. Happy anniversary, or have you forgotten?"
"As if I can forget the night I nearly dashed your brains out with a rock," she said with more fondness than any normal person should, jumping to her feet.
Guy held her hands, leaning forward to nuzzle his nose against hers. "Me either, you're a hard one to forget."
"Well, I did call you back."
"You did," he agreed before pouting. "Not my smoothest pick up line though."
"So you didn't tell every girl that line? 'If you survive, call me?'" Eep quoted, exposing her teeth in a teasing smirk.
"Nope, you were the first and only," Guy assured her, winking. "It worked."
"It did," she agreed back, shaking her head with a giggle. "So…" Eep began coyly, averting her eyes towards the landscape colored black in silhouette.
"So…?" Guy urged her, knowing that Eep didn't need the coaxing but somehow it had just become their thing.
"What if I did come with you that night," Eep asked him, turning back to bat her eyelashes at him. "I think this is the perfect spot to humor the thought." She gazed around the desert, the ground hard with stone, much like the one she had followed Guy's fire that night.
"Well for one, your dad would have killed me because I didn't know he was part of the equation yet," Guy replied, both joking and serious as he said it. "This little journey would have definitely been way more interesting though if I had stolen you away from him."
"Stolen me," she echoed with a laugh though her ears burned from a mixture of the fire and thought. There had been an obvious attraction and two teenagers journeying alone, well, it didn't take a Betterman to figure it out. "You make this sound scandalous, Guy."
"It's not now though so that means when you took my hand, I'd do this." He lifted her palm to his lips, gently kissing a scar that led down to the pulse point of her wrist.
"No, you wouldn't have," Eep teased him. "You were too scared of me to try it."
"I wouldn’t," he agreed. "But this is a fantasy so anything can happen."
"Okay," she amused him, letting Guy continue his little story.
Guy seemed to realize a dark implication in this what if and since it was a fantasy, he could change that. "The world isn't ending, I'm still a nomad but you're just a stir crazy teenage girl instead."
"I am a stir crazy teenage girl," Eep corrected him, leaning up on her toes to brush his cheek with her nose. "And I'll remind you everyday, babe."
"You make telling this story harder than it needs to be," Guy lamented in mock offense, drawing her closer to eye her down. Eep just grinned innocently. "Stop putting plot holes."
Eep just giggled, feeling him turn her hand over to kiss her knuckles and each finger delicately. It was like having a butterfly touch her skin.
"Fine, then what?"
"We'd run away together," he continued, looking up at her with loving eyes. "Somehow outsmart your dad because Sandy would totally have sniffed us out in the morning."
Eep smirked, fighting off a broad smile in her amusement. "Would you have fought him?"
"I mean…" Sure, it was a fantasy but he was also just stronger, bigger and scarier than Guy was. Besides, hindsight wasn't twenty twenty and this caveman was now a second father to him. As annoying and abrasive as Grug had been in all the time Guy knew him, he also had a begrudging respect and admiration for him too. "Maybe we'd just bring him along anyway, save us the trouble."
"Is the log ride magic now?" Eep asked him with a wicked grin. "Does it fly us to Tomorrow? I'm sure it could if dad kicked it hard enough for us."
Guy scoffed, "This is my fantasy so there is no log."
"Aw, you're no fun," she sniggered, lifting his hand to press his palm into her nose fondly. "The log brought us together."
"Yeah but in this story you already came with me," Guy reminded her with a gentle tug, taking her hand back to stroke his thumbs fondly over her knuckles.
Eep tried hard not to laugh again, blushing as well under the soft look he gave her. He smiled at her and she melted like ice. It was intimate and vulnerable, more so than anything they'd done in all the time proceeding to this moment.
"Alright," she murmured, stroking his chest after laying her palm flat against his heart. She fiddled with the seashells dangling around his neck, idly stroking his throat and felt him swallow. "Then what?"
"I'd show you the world and since there's no The End… we wouldn't rush through it. You know, actually do some sight seeing. Fall slowly in love with each beautiful thing I show you but never seems to compare to you." Eep couldn’t help the giddy giggle as he called her beautiful, beaming bright like a sun ray at his compliment. Guy's eyes almost glazed over as he gave the silly romantic escapade story more thought, he chuckled. "Your dad would ruin all our little moments though, so it's kinda hard."
"So even in this little I went with you story, dad still keeps us apart?" Eep pouted.
"Every story needs conflict," Guy teased her. "Dad was going to catch up eventually, family in tow. We were taking the scenic route, it was bound to happen, Eep."
Eep rolled her eyes at him, tugging Guy down so they could sit with their backs to the fire. She leaned her weight against his side, feeling Guy rest his arm behind her back. "I hope things start getting more romantic for us, Guy."
Guy pressed a kiss to her temple, grinning. "It does. After hauling our crazy family cross country, we find the sun hidden on a mountain."
Eep remembered Guy's mountain, two tall twin peaks that extended high above the sky, swathed in clouds and extending out to a meadow after climbing the outcrop. They were supposed to ride it to Tomorrow, joining it among the many sleeping suns above. "How are we going to ride it to Tomorrow if I'm your Tomorrow?"
"I'm retconning stuff, stop spoiling the story," Guy scolded her, just resting his head on hers, taking in her smokey wild scent. "I realize this sooner, because the sun isn't really attainable. We go after it but it just gets farther and farther away." He extended his hand out in a reaching gesture. This meant Guy was really getting into the story.
"Are you sad for awhile?" Eep inquired, absently hugging his bicep now that Guy no longer held her hands.
"For a bit," he admitted. "I mean, my parents said to follow the sun but you really can't but…" Guy paused and gazed fondly at his wife tucked into his side, body warm, familiar and supple.
"But…?"
"I found you, light led me to you. I realize this and tell you I love you after this little journey." Guy nuzzled her cheek with a blissful little sigh. "Also then we find the Bettermans and live happily ever after in their treehouse with the punch monkeys."
Eep poked him in the chest, not really the reaction he was expecting after that happy ending. "You can't just skip an entire chapter like that and tack 'the end!'"
Guy took her hand in both of his, cupping it tender in-between his palms. "It works when your dad tells stories," he joked.
"Well, that was before you started telling better stories," Eep exclaimed with a childish huff that was so her it made Guy muffle a laugh into her shoulder.
"Did you tell Grug that?"
"You know how dad is," she replied a bit more sheepishly this time. "Least everybody doesn't die at the end anymore."
"They don't," he agreed, gazing at her fondly once again. "He's getting better though, I like happy endings."
"I like happy endings. I like you," Eep added, cuddling herself cozy as a cat under his arm and against his chest. She listened to his heartbeat, soothed by the gentle thump.
Guy stroked her back, gentle as he rested his chin above her head. "Only like?" He murmured.
"Maybe if you don't rush your endings then I'll say something else," she told him, Guy feeling her lips as she spoke against his heart.
Guy hugged her, adjusting his position so he could tug his wife onto his lap. She immediately curled up there, warm and safe as he draped his arms around her like a cocoon. "What if there is no ending yet? I like leaving our story open ended, Eep."
He suddenly found himself on his back and he gave a soft oof in surprise. Eep leaned over him, hands braced above his head as she looked down at him. The firelight made her already bright red hair even more so, blazing like the sun with the dark shadows making her eyes and face seem more intense.
"Then… I guess I can accept that," she relented after several moments, a smile crossing her face. She pressed her forehead against his, nose touching his.
Guy's eyes fluttered closed, knowing the intimate implications of the gesture amongst her people. He felt her breath fan his face before something soft touched his lips.
Immediately he wrapped his arms around her, letting his palms gently stroke the strong muscles of her back as they flexed beneath them. He'd never tired of her, beautiful and feral as she was. There was a soft gasp against his lips and he gave a quiet little growl, pressing up to mold his body with hers.
He found his words despite wanting to just keep kissing her. The moment was too right to neglect however. It took a few long moments of trading kiss after kiss that Guy had an idea to put his lips to good use in a way he wouldn't need to stop. Trailing a few heated kisses down the soft slope of her neck, he mumbled, "Eep?"
She hummed, "Mhm?" It was hardly the most direct of words but he took it.
"You lit a fire in me when we met," Guy confessed though he knew it was obvious at this point. It was no secret despite the circumstances of their relationship's beginning, he'd been infatuated and found her cute. Scary habits despite that, of course. "And you were in my every thought since then, I really was hoping you'd call me, Eep."
"I really wanted to go with you," she said, pushing him away to graze a palm down his bicep, tracing a stripe fondly before finding his hand to lace their fingers together. Her touch singed him more than the embers behind him did from where he lay. "I just…"
"You came with me eventually though," he reminded her though found he needed to remind himself to focus when she lifted his hand to her lips to kiss his longer fingers. He closed his eyes, sighing. "You gave me something even better than any Tomorrow I thought I'd find out there."
"Even if you were a stupid boy?" She teased him through the haze, bracing her weight against his again. She still sometimes made fun of him for that but in the moment he hardly cared, caging her in his arms.
"Yes," he grunted, Guy would agree to anything she said right now so long as she kept touching him like this.
Their lips met again but she suddenly paused, her roaming hands no longer roaming. He huffed against her lips, confused and a bit frustrated that she stopped.
"Guy?" Eep murmured against his lips breathily.
"Mhm?" It wasn't an intelligible response but having Eep so close to him like this always rendered him a useless fool.
"Do you smell something burning?" Eep drew away, ignoring Guy's protesting whine as their lips no longer brushed.
"Just my love for you," he told her, sitting up with what he hoped was a winning smile.
Eep flared her nostrils at the smell and eyes widening looked past Guy towards their camp fire, having completely forgotten about the cooking boar during their recent activities.
"Guy, the boar is on fire," she exclaimed.
Guy in an instant scrambled to his feet to try salvaging their dinner. "Oh crap!" He ran for a waterskin and a blanket but to Eep it was probably a fruitless endeavor.
She was never much of a picky eater anyway. Sometimes some burning did a meal good, she thought, touching her lips with a grin.
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lubdubsworld · 3 years
Text
Falling for you ( Falling from Grace) Jungkookx OC ( Complete)
Chapter 1
[ Read the rest here : Chapter 8 ( Final)  
]
Rated : 18 +
Warning : . Fuck buddies? Or rather enemies that have sex. They just really hate each other but also can’t keep their hands off each other. 
Sweat dotted the edge of my hairline and I felt like my entire body was on fire. I was wet, so fucking wet and the sound of him ramming into me, over and over again was absolutely obscene in the quiet of the bedroom. I was on my back, a thin black tie cutting off my vision and all I could feel was the steady staccato of his dick pounding into me. 
“Oh fuck.. Fuck...Just like that Jungkook fuck....” 
I could barely recognize my own voice. Wrecked and ruined, breathy and almost a whine. 
My shoulders ached from being stretched up, wrists almost numb from the handcuffs that held my body up to the head board. I felt like my shoulders were gonna pop out and I panted, fuming at him internally because he’d done it on purpose, locked the handcuffs a rung higher than usual which meant that I wasn’t lying comfortably on the bed as usual . 
“Look at you.... look so fucking filthy like this angel....” He smirked down at me, fingers like a vice around my waist holding me up and almost off the bed as he pounded into me, each thrust carrying the entire weight of his muscled body. It hurt so bad it felt good. My thighs ached from where they stayed wrapped around his slim waist. 
“Fuck...don’t stop...” I felt my head fall back, the ache in my back intensifying. I was so close....so fucking close, I could feel the heat as it built up, licking its way up my spine,  The angle was perfect, his cock had a slight curve to it when he was fully hard and that just meant that he managed to hit my sweet spot every time he pistoned in. 
And God we’d been at this for so long now... almost a whole damn hour and my senses were frayed, my body so sensitive and wrung out that all I wanted to do was cum. 
So, of course Jungkook being the supreme asshole that he was, chose that moment to stop moving completely. 
My heart jumped to my throat in panic, my body lifting off the bed, chasing friction and his hold on my waist tightened, so much that I was sure he had bruised me. 
“Hmm.... Don’t think you’re in any position to be telling me what to do, baby....” He drawled, voice husky in a way that made my ache worse.
“What- no..wait you fucking asshole ...” I screamed knowing what was coming and refusing to accept it. Fuck i hated him... Fuck Fuck....
He gripped my waist and slid forward again , but instead of sliding in he slotted his cock between my thighs, pulling my legs together so he could fuck into the gap and yes, it was really fucking hot but I was so close....I needed him inside me ......
“Please....Jungkook please don’t...” I begged, dignity forgotten because I was not a fan of delayed gratification. 
“Shush shush.....What’d I say about taking what I give you.....and to be fucking honest, I’m not sure you really like my dick all that much...” He said, sounding thoughtful and my head swam in confusing. What the fuck was he even on about?
“What? Are you kidding me? I let you fuck me almost every damn night why would you-”
“So why’d you go have dinner with Namjoon hyung?” He pinched my nipples', both at the same time, twisting and pulling till I whines, eyes watering enough to soak the silk of his tie. 
“What -- That’s... We’re not fucking dating....I can have dinner with who I want....” I snarled in disbelief, tugging fruitlessly on the handcuffs. Why the fuck had I agreed to this?? 
“Not after cancelling on me, you can’t... And certainly not with my brother, angel..” Jungkook snarled right back and I flinched when I felt his hand come down near my face. For one horrifying moment I thought he was going to slap me but what he did was rip the blindfold off me. Momentarily still blinded, I blinked till he came into focus and felt that familiar and unwelcome swooping sense of attraction. 
Jeon Jungkook with his long midnight hair and ivory skin. Doe eyes that carried entire galaxies in them and those soft, thin lips that smirked at the drop of a hat. 
 Fuck him... Fuck him for being so fucking attractive that my heart stopped every time I saw him. 
He was staring at me and the raging anger on his face really shouldn’t make me wetter but it did. I wanted to sob as my entire body clenched, aching empty and desperate to be filled again. 
“You sent me a fucking dick pic... “ I whined in despair. “ You were literally in the office when I was at dinner with him , how the fuck was I supposed to know you wanted to see me....!!!?” 
Jungkook reached down and began stroking himself and I felt my eyes widen in disbelief. 
“Jungkook....” I warned, feeling the desperation morph into genuine anger now.
“I wanted you to suck me off in my office. Isn’t that part of what my dad pays you for?” He drawled and I felt fury bloom. Jungkook knew just the right words to say, whether he wanted to turn me on or make me feel murderous....  
He scooted forward , straddling my chest and I bucked hard, trying to throw him off but it was fucking impossible. I flinched when he slipped a palm under my head, gripping my hair and yanking my head up till his cock pressed up against my lips.
“You owe me a blow job, princess.....gonna open up?” He gripped my hair harder and the pain made me keen. 
“If you stick your dick in my mouth I will bite it off....” I growled, resisting the urge to thrash because it only made my scalp hurt more. He laughed at that and I stared at him, the pink of his dick right on my lips and for a moment I almost had a pavlovian response to it. Almost opened my mouth and took the hard delicious length of it into my warm mouth. 
Shaking my head just enough to dislodge the head off my lips, I glared at him , my stomach clenching as he stared down at me, wicked dark eyes gleaming with satisfaction and pretty red lips parted in that sexy infuriating smirk of his. He gripped himself harder, groaning as his eyes rolled back a bit at the stimulation. I stared at how his long fingers wrapped around his length , the way he was so shameless in chasing his pleasure. His thumb traced the head, finger dipping lightly into his slit and he moaned, almost shuddering at the sensation. I wanted nothing more to touch myself, at least relieve some of the excruciating pressure between my legs but Jungkook had planned this, had put me in handcuffs fully intending to leave me high and dry . 
I stared at him and he glanced back, his face momentarily open in pleasure, lips spit slicked and parted and tongue poking out as he let out a breathy, ‘ fuck’ and i knew he was close. 
He always looked like a fallen angel when he was close to his orgasm. Fucking beautiful son of a bitch.
But no matter how gorgeous he was, Jeon Jungkook was an incorrigible jerk and I knew exactly what he was gonna do,.
I pursed my lips shut and turned my head away when he came , snarling when the hot wetness coated my face. Jungkook always came like a fucking hose and I could feel globs of it cling to my face, even my fucking eyelashes. 
When I turned back , snarling and ready to unload on him, he was already crawling away, but not before scooping up the last of his release on his fingers and reaching down to grip my cheeks with enough force to get my mouth open.
I whimpered when he stuck his finger in, the familiar taste of his cum only making my body thrum in desperation. I hated him. Hated him so fucking much. 
“Taste good, baby?” He drawled softly, chasing his fingers with his tongue and licking into my mouth, swirling his cum all over my tongue with his. 
“My filthy little slut...” He whispered against my lips, voice tinged with so much feigned fondness that I nearly bit his lip. 
“Take the handcuffs off, you fucker.” I growled, watching as he slipped on his boxer brief and his jeans. I fully intended to grab the vibrator on my desk and get myself off the minute he let me out of the handcuffs. 
And next time.... 
oh, boy next time Jungkook was going to be on his knees begging me to let him cum.... 
He was sweaty and looked like a mess but he never stayed around long enough to even take a shower. Now that I knew I wasn’t getting fucked my attraction for him was gone, replaced by homicidal fury. 
“Hmm.... I’ll think about it.” He shrugged, reaching for the white button down on the floor.
My eyes nearly bugged out.
“What the fuck do you mean you’ll think about it?” I snarled. 
“Your sister told me she’ll be dropping by at around five today..... I’ll leave the key on the dining tanle. She’ll help you out...” He grinned at me wide and I felt my heart drop through my throat. 
I spluttered as he dangled the key tauntingly , whistling as he moved to the door. 
“THAT’S A WHOLE TWO HOURS AWAY JEON JUNGKOOK YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!!!!” 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Do I even want to know?” My sister stared at me in honest disgust and I knew I must’ve looked a sight , with dried cum all over my face. But i was barely listening to her. I knew exactly what I had to do....Knew exactly what I could do to have Jeon Jungkook frothing at the mouth. 
“Areum? Are you listening..?” She called out when I raced to the bathroom. I quickly turned on the hot water , grabbing a washcloth to scrub at my face. Jungkook was going to regret this. 
When I finished taking a shower, scrubbing myself clean and stepped back out, my sister was airing out the room.
“Mom has been talking about setting you up with people and here you are , whoring around with that Jeon brat....” She rolled her eyes at me but I ignored her, moving to the closet with my lingerie.
My mother had high hopes for me. After blowing through my dad’s entire legacy with her fancy clothes and expensive bags, she was now panicking. She wanted me to marry big and granted, Jeon Jungkook came from a filthy rich family but he was still the prodigal son and his father made it plenty clear that unless he danced to the older man’s tune, he would be out without a penny to his name.  
But that was none of my business. I wasn’t going to marry the dude. I didn’t even  like  him. 
All i really cared about was getting him back for leaving me unsatisfied today. 
 I grabbed the most scandalous piece I had, black and completely sheer. It left absolutely nothing to the imagination and I felt saliva pooling at the back of my throat just thinking about how Jungkook would react to this. The first time I had worn it, he had held me up against the wall and fucked me senseless.  
“Why are you here anyway?” I asked my sister as she began picking up the different pieces of clothing scattered all over the room, dropping them in the laundry basket on her hip. 
“Can’t I just come check on my beautiful baby sister? “ She smiled and I rolled my eyes . 
Hana was the perfect daughter in every way. She was a professional artist, married to the gorgeously successful surgeon, Dr. Kim Seokjin who happened to own the largest hospital in the country. 
And it was hard to hate her because she had endless patience for my shenanigans'. Because to be honest, this wasn’t the first time she had walked in on me lying debauched, courtesy Jeon fucking Jungkook. 
Which brought me to my current mission. 
“Okay. I’m fine. I’m actually on my way out so you can either crash here for a while or you can leave...” i waved dismissively, running to the bathroom to slip the dress on.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I rang the door bell again, feeling my body thrum with impatience. Why the fuck wasn’t he answering the damned door? I was wearing simple summer dress. The fastest thing I could take off. 
“Areum?” Namjoon’s surprised face barely registered on my face. He was in his sweatpants with a glass bowl filled with chips and he looked completely thrown by my presence. 
 I shouldered past him, moving to stand in the middle of the living room. 
“Is everything okay? What’s wro-”
I grabbed the hem of the dress pulling it over my head and tossing it away on the couch. 
Namjoon dropped the bowl and if it weren't for the ridiculously thick fur rug underneath us, the thing would have shattered to a million pieces. 
His eyes were wide in disbelief, mouth slack in shock as he stared at me and i could actually see his dick swelling in hi sweatpants as I stood in the completely see through babydoll. 
“Where’s the bedroom?” 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
‘Fuck, yeah...that feels so fucking good...” Namjoon growled , gripping my waist as I rode him, his thick cock stretching me out so good that I moaned in relief. Stupid fucking Jeon Jungkook.... Namjoon wasn’t bad per se but he didn’t know the nuances of what I liked. Jungkook had this sinful way of rolling his hips up into mine when I rode him and it always made me see stars. But no matter....this wasn’t the main reason I was here. 
“Don’t cum... I want you to come on my face .” I whispered softly and Namjoon shuddered, grip on my waist tightening.
“Fuck..yeah,.yeah,.,.,okay,,.,anything you say.,...” He stuttered.
I reached down to rub my clit because I wanted to cum too and I sighed in sweet blessed relief as my orgasm washed over me, my walls clenching around Namjoon as I rode it out. 
“Fuck, I’m close...” Namjoon whispered and i clambered off him to kneel between his legs.
“Take a picture.” I grabbed my phone and turned on the camera , pressing it into his hands. 
“Wh- What?” His pacing faltered and I didn’t let him think too much , lest he change his mind...
“I want a picture of me choking on your cock , Joon oppa.... A picture with you painting my face with cum..please...please...” I blinked up at him through my wet lashes and I could almost see his mind disintegrating at the visual. 
“ Shit okay.... okay...”
I wrapped my lips around his cock, sucking quickly and taking him in deep, my mind swimming with glee as he clicked away. 
“Fuck, I’m cumming...” Namjoon began and I pulled away, opening my mouth, sticking my tongue out just as he came , making sure I stared straight into the camera as the first few spurts hit me, right across my tongue. I stuck a finger in my mouth, making a show of sucking it and Namjoon groaned, clicking away more pictures.
“Fuck...tell me I can get these pictures...” He moaned and I laughed, crawling up to kiss him. 
“Sure baby.” 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I called Jungkook first, simply to give him a chance to redeem himself. 
The thing with Namjoon was impulsive and  while i didn’t regret it per se , i didn’t want to drag Namjoon into this without just cause. 
“what the fuck do you want?” Jungkook’s annoyed voice made my hackles rise.
“A fucking apology for starters.” I snarled into the phone. The fucking audacity!!!
“Listen , I’m on the way to Sana’s place.... So I don’t have time for your toddler tantrums. I’m hanging up”
And he actually hung up. 
I stared at the phone, shaking in disbelief.
I quickly flipped through the photos I’d taken , trying to find the one that would make him furious enough to ditch his fuck for the night. Sana? Who the fuck was she anyway>?
I picked the one that was most obscene, you could see my sheer bodice, my nipples and the curve of my breasts, Namjoon’s cock resting against my tongue, spurts of his cum over my tongue and my cheek bones and the highlight- my eyes staring right at the camera in defiance. 
Perfect. 
Nothing riled Jungkook up more than defiance. 
I opened snapchat , sending him the pic. 
I stared at the caption in satisfaction. 
 Your brother tasted better. 
I relaxed against the pillows, glancing at the clock over the door. It was a little past eleven but knowing Jungkook.... he’d be here within the hour. He had a key to my apartment so I locked the bedroom instead. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Kim Areum!!!!!!!!” Jungkook’s voice rang through the apartment rousing me from my nap. I blinked groggily and stared at the mirror.
11.25 PM.
I felt a smile creep into my face. A new record. 
The door into my bedroom shook on its hinges as he knocked on it. Hard. I moved to stand close to the door , reveling in the fact that Jungkook was on the other side, likely losing his everloving shit . 
“I’m too tired, Jungkook...your brother really put me through the wringer...” I whined piteously and the knocking stopped.
“Open the motherfucking door, Areum or I’m gonna fuck you so hard its gonna  put you in a fucking wheelchair .....” He growled. 
I smiled. 
“Good night Jungkook. Oh and you better leave soon...my sister is sleeping in the guest bedroom.” 
Ignoring his frustrated snarl , I turned the lights off.
Kim Areum- 1.
Jeon Jungkook -0 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 Author’s note : I was just really inspired by that pic of pic of Jungkook in the see through shirt. Lemme know what you thought :-* 
353 notes · View notes
phati-sari · 4 years
Text
Arshi FF: Charade - Chapter 35
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Chapter 34 // Read on FFnet // Read on Wattpad
Chapter 35: Constellation
Khushi
“—I’m here!” Mami-ji flounced into the study. “I asked Hari Prakash to make us some popcorn. Now we can watch.”
She settled on the sofa next to them, eyes already eagerly trained onto the screen. “Hello, hi, bye-bye. I’m eager to see who this Tanya is. In the precap last week she looked so good. All modern and beautiphool!”
Exchanging a look with her Jiji, who sat next to her on the couch, Khushi responded, “The actress is very pretty. I hope Sagar is nicer to her than he is to Muskaan.”
Jiji reached for the popcorn Mami-ji had placed on the table.
“Here, I think he was right to be angry,” she said. “She can’t just do whatever she wants without thinking about the consequences!”
Gasping, Khushi stole some popcorn from her sister’s hand, “It was a mistake, she didn’t know it was his house!”
“You just watch,” Mami-ji gestured at the screen. “You know how these serials go. She’ll vow to never see him again and end up working in his media empire as a receptionist, hello, hi, bye-bye.”
They subsided as the disclaimer came on the screen. Khushi returned to her phone, deleting two emojis from her message before pressing send.
“Payal?”
Just outside the sitting area, Aakash-ji held a shirt as he stared bemusedly at the television.
“Bitwa, what do you want?”
“N-no, Maa, I was looking for Payal.”
By now, Jiji had met Aakash-ji at the threshold of the room, “What is it, Aakash?”
They stepped away to hold a short, murmured conversation. Khushi looked at her phone in an effort to give them privacy, just as it lit up. The screen showed her message and the response:
Khushi: We’re watching Rabba Ve in the study, in case you come home and can’t find me. You should watch with us!
Arnav-ji: Very funny, Khushi.
Smiling, she quickly typed out a reply. He responded almost immediately.
Khushi: Aakash Jija-ji is here too, watching with us. Why don’t you ever join us?
Arnav-ji: What Aakash does in his marriage is his own business. I’m in the car, see you soon.
Jiji returned to her place on the sofa after a few minutes, the shirt and a needle and thread in her hands. Aakash Jija-ji flopped next to his mother after snatching up some popcorn.
“This is nonsense,” he interrupted a few minutes later. “Why are there so many shots of him walking dramatically? It’s taken him five minutes to reach his office and now he’s leaving again.”
“You just shut-up-iyai, Aakash-bitwa. This is no place for your logic, it’s a serial.”
Khushi heart swelled with gladness as she watched Aakash-ji exchange a contrite look with Jiji, who had to stifle a giggle.
The episode was almost over by the time the doorbell chimed. Khushi stood, waving away Jai Prakash-ji on her way to open the doors. Arnav-ji gave her a small smile as she took his laptop bag.
“How was your show?”
Khushi bounced, “It was good.”
They stopped to say hello to Di, who paused in her reading of a magazine to ask Arnav-ji about his day. And again to chat with Aakash-ji in the study.
“Do you really want me to watch it with you?” her husband asked when they were in their bedroom.
Khushi closed the door with a soft click, “No, I was just teasing you.”
He took the laptop bag from her and placed it on the table before taking her into his arms. She exhaled shakily as the tension she hadn’t realised was there left her body.
“I’ve been thinking about something,” he spoke softly. “Will you come back here with me after dinner?”
Khushi peered up at him, “Why?”
“Just come up here with me. It’s important.”
She stretched up to kiss his jaw, and whispered in his ear when he bent his head, “I told you last night: don’t tell me what to do.”
A laugh that lit up everything inside her. He was still smiling when he kissed her, slow and playful. He left her briefly to change and freshen up, and then led her downstairs with his fingers twined in hers.
Shyam-ji had arrived in time for dinner, much to Di’s delight. She showed everyone the tiny pink cap she’d knitted for her rajkumari as the servants set up the dining table.
“Chhote, look, isn’t it cute? I’m thinking of making matching socks.”
The cap looked even tinier in Arnav-ji’s hand. “This is nice, Di.”
“Rani Sahiba is so talented, don’t you agree Saale-Sahib?”
Arnav-ji didn’t reply, though his smile became strained. Di shoved good-naturedly at Shyam-ji as she spoke again.
“You know, the doctor said that it would be good if we played soft music for our rajkumari.”
“I can get you CDs,” offered Aakash-ji. “Payal and I are going out tomorrow.”
“Okay,” Di said brightly, “I’ll make you a list.”
After dinner, Arnav-ji sent her upstairs with a promise to meet her after a few minutes. Khushi climbed the stairs with her sister, who relayed a list of all the things she intended to buy the next day before mentioning a tentative plan to have dinner in Laxmi Nagar. Twirling in excitement, she promised to ask Arnav-ji and let Jiji know in the morning.
Inside their bedroom, she sat on the recliner to wait for her husband. He arrived a few short minutes later laden with blankets and pillows, which he took straight to the poolside. She locked the bedroom door behind him and followed, watching as he set all the blankets on the ground and arranged the pillows.
“You like the stars, don’t you?” he noticed her hovering. “Come, sit.”
She knelt on the edge of the blankets, something unsettled inside her. Arnav-ji reached up to tug her wrist so she fell against him.
“Arnav-ji … someone will see,” she tried to get up.
“What the—? Who will see?”
Khushi shifted nervously, “Mami-ji, you said she was watching with binoculars the other day.”
He made a sound of amusement and held her close, not speaking until she’d tucked herself into him.
“I spoke to her about that. I reminded her that I could have cameras installed all over the house if she was so concerned about what happened in my bedroom.”
“Arnav-ji!”
He was unrepentant, “She agreed that there’s no need for her binoculars.”
They spent a few minutes watching the stars, with him pointing up and naming a few constellations before telling her stories about them. When she accused him of making them up, he claimed the stories were quite famous in history. He stole a few kisses, let her steal a few in return, and covered them both in a blanket when she shivered.
“Khushi,” he began after a short silence, “a while ago you said there’s so much you still don’t know about me. I told you that all you had to do is ask.”
“I remember.”
“Well, then … ask.”
She shifted onto her elbow to look at him, “What can I ask about?”
“Anything.”
She started small. His favourite colour was red, as Di had once told her. His favourite subject at school had been science.
“Who took the photos,” Khushi gestured inside, “the ones on the walls?”
“Me.”
“You!?”
Arnav-ji kissed her soundly, his hand skimming up her side. “No need to be so surprised.”
It took her a while to catch her breath.
“What happened to Sim-ji and Pam-ji from the office? I haven’t seen them since I returned.”
His response was carefully measured, “They felt I’d treated Lavanya badly and asked me to find them new jobs. I did.”
“Oh.”
She fell silent, at first surprised by the loyalty shown by the women, and then not surprised at all.
They were her friends.
“Have you heard from Lavanya-ji? How is she?”
Arnav-ji tucked a curl of hair behind her ear. “That’s one of the things I wanted to speak to you about. I hadn’t heard from her in months but she emailed today. She wants to go into modelling and asked me to connect her with an agent.”
A burst of happiness for her friend. “That sounds great. Are you going to help her?”
“I wanted to ask you first. Does it … will it bother you if I speak to her?”
“No!”
Instantly, she knew she’d answered too quickly. Arnav-ji stroked his finger across her cheek.
“How about,” he said softly, “I tell you when I speak to her?”
Khushi smiled widely, “It’s okay, you don’t have to.”
He brushed his thumb over her bottom lip before dipping his head to kiss her. “She knows we’re married. Said congratulations.”
“Were there other women?” she blurted, “before Lavanya-ji?”
He froze on his way to kiss her cheek.
“Khushi, I want to answer all your questions but some of the answers will hurt you.”
She shook her head, “I’m not asking because it will hurt. I want to understand you. I want to know you.”
With a sigh, he turned onto his back and tucked an arm behind his head.
“Lisa. You met her on the night of the photoshoot.”
This, Khushi had suspected as soon as the woman had leaned in to sniff Arnav-ji’s cologne and run possessive hands over his suit.
“She seemed so …”
“… high strung?” Arnav-ji chuckled. “I know. We only saw each other a few times. She always made it into a bigger thing than it was.”
“That’s it?” Khushi asked, feeling a little better.
“And … Sheetal in college.”
Unlike when he spoke about Lisa-ji, the cadence of his voice indicated happy memories.
“At … Ha … Harv … ?” she tried to remember the writing on his jogging clothes.
“Harvard,” Arnav-ji said easily. “Yeah, she did her MBA with me.”
“MBA?”
“Masters of Business Administration.”
He seemed to relax as their conversation shifted away from his past relationships, and for the first time, Khushi realised how hard it’d been for him to speak about them. The fact that he’d still done it filled her with happiness. Scooting across, she rested her head on his shoulder and slid her arms around him. His fingers found their way into her hair.
“And that taught you to run a business?” she asked.
“The theory of it, yes. When I came back to India, I found it was much harder in practice.”
Under the cover of the blankets, she ran her hand under his shirt and sweater. He jumped a little — “your hand is cold!” — but trapped her fingers there when she tried to retreat.
“I’d used all the money I had just to get through college. When I returned I had next to nothing. Mami believed in me. She sold her jewellery, broke her FD, gave me everything she had. She was my very first investor.”
“Does this mean she owns some of your company now?”
“Everyone does. Di and I control it together, but Mami, Mama, and Aakash all have shares. Aakash gave some of his to Payal. I’ve put through some paperwork, you should have yours soon.”
He wanted to share his life’s work with her. Her heart seemed to swell with the warm and golden sense of belonging. Of rightness. Khushi flattened her palm against his stomach, murmuring a request so he shifted until she could kiss him. He groaned, flipping them around and deepening the kiss. When they came up for air, he was shirtless and her dori was undone and she’d made a mark on his shoulder. Her bangles lay in a neat column above their heads.
“Let’s go inside,” he whispered.
They made it there somehow, though she lost her dupatta along the way, and fell onto the bed in a tangle after closing the curtains. His kiss was hot. The rough tenderness of his touch undid her, a leisurely exploration that had her gasping his name. Never had she felt more treasured, more wanted. Arnav removed the overcoat of her outfit and tossed it onto the floor. He held her in place for another kiss, whispering her name against her lips.
She moved restlessly against him, her hips rolling towards the hardness she could feel pressed against her thigh. He groaned, his hand slipping from her nape, down to her hips, and lower to curve over her bottom. She sucked in a breath when his stubble scratched her skin. An apology mumbled against her neck, his hand angling her so they fit perfectly.
When he traced his fingers lightly over her lips, she remembered the clench of her body as he’d taken her fingers into his mouth. Desire coiled hot and tight in her belly and made her brave enough to tilt her head so his fingers slipped between her lips. A low, taut moan escaped him. Then he turned her into her front with gentle hands. Straddling the backs of her thighs, he dragged the zipper of her dress down. Khushi curled her fingers into her pillow, feeling her breath catch. His hands traced up her spine, unsnapping her bra when he reached it.
“I don’t think you should wear this to bed,” his touch was warm on her skin.
“Wh-what? Why?”
“Less for me to take off.”
She heard the smirk in his voice. Her giggle turned into a moan as he settled on top of her, the heat of his chest on her almost-bare back. When she turned her head to ask for a kiss, he gave her one. It was deep, slow, and made her toes curl as her body throbbed with wanting him. The kisses moved to her nape and then down her spine. She made a soft, desperate sound, feeling as though everything inside her was melting.
Almost without permission, her body arched towards his, and he took advantage to slip his fingers inside the dress and around her ribs. A hand on her breast. She fell forward with a small cry, trapping it there.
“I like you like this,” Arnav spoke in her ear as his hand moulded her. “All mine.”
More kisses, his mouth moving over hers in time with the movements of his hand. And when she thought she couldn’t take much more, he moved away.
“No,” Khushi tried to sit up.
“Take off the dress,” he murmured.
He helped her undress, tugging at her clothes until she was left face down on the bed with nothing but his body covering her. He was still mostly clothed. Another kiss, his tongue inside her mouth as his hand slid under her to resume its play on her breast. Her hands clenched into the sheets. She felt utterly at his mercy, trapped under the heat of him as he had access to every part of her body. But she also felt safe, surrounded by his strength.
By the time he stroked his hand downwards she was almost quivering with need. It was natural to lift her hips a little to give him room. He didn’t hesitate. Her gasp became a moan as he slid a finger down her centre. And then back up, all the while whispering into her ear. All the words he didn’t say in the daytime now spilled out of him, words of love, of adoration.
Arnav’s fingers dipped even lower, breaching her for one breathless second before stroking back up. It was agony. He did it again and again, teasing, playing, sliding his finger deeper each time before retreating, and chuckled at the frustrated sound she released.
“We’re working on your patience, remember?” a kiss to her shoulder.
But the next time, he stayed. Kissing her deeply, he did something that made her frantic. She stopped thinking, pleasure burning like wildfire in every cell of her body. It was different from the night before. Tighter and hotter and just more. When her pleasure crested she muffled herself in a pillow, feeling wave and after wave of sensation crash into her. It turned the world red.
When she came back to herself he was still astride her, lazily stroking his fingers down her back.
“You okay?” he asked.
Khushi hummed, trying to turn, and smiled when he rose just enough to let her. He placed her hands on his chest after nibbling each finger in turn and shuddered as she ran her nails down his body. A kiss, tender and possessive and full of desire. A renewed tension twisted inside her as he ran his hands over her body and his mouth followed.
He seemed to get distracted by her breasts, lingering as he took a long, slow taste. His hair felt soft against her fingers. She accidentally pulled at it when she felt his teeth, causing him to groan. He asked if she liked this or this, or maybe this, and with each whispered question, each thrilling demonstration, the frenzy in her body built. His fingers became urgent on her hips and thighs.
“Again?” he spoke against her lips when she arched into him.
Something in her tummy swooped low at his question. She nodded, and Arnav shifted so he could press directly against her. He’d gotten rid of his pants without her noticing, and the material of his underwear did nothing to disguise the scorch or shape of him. He seemed to lose control, his hand plumping her flesh before he sucked a peak into his mouth. She cried out when he rocked, her hands locking onto his shoulders.
He returned to her lips, “Hold on.”
Then he moved, each circle of his hips causing stars to explode behind her eyes. She forced them open to find him looking down at her, eyes ablaze and mouth slightly open, his hair falling across his forehead. The muscles in his shoulders bunched as he moved. It was the unprecedented intimacy of it that did it. She reached the cliff and hurtled over it again, her mouth shaping his name as pleasure rippled within her. He continued to press against her, speeding up as he pushed once, twice.
“More,” he groaned into her hair.
Khushi ran her teeth over the jagged pulse in his neck and bit down. He shuddered, swearing, and froze for several long seconds. His breath was harsh against her ear as he seemed to collapse, feeling heavy, as if — until now — he’d been careful not to let her feel his full weight. Heart still racing, she stroked a hand through his hair until he stirred, taking her with him as he rolled onto this back. His stubble was rough on her skin as he pressed lazy kisses wherever he could reach.
“Give me a moment,” he spoke softly, “and then we’ll get cleaned up.”
There was a pressure in her chest, as if she couldn’t contain the happiness she felt inside. Khushi fought a yawn, “Okay.”
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intrepidmare · 4 years
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JAIME x BRIENNE FIC EXCHANGE RECOMMENDATIONS
Well, I have read about half of the fics in the @jaime-brienne-fic-exchange and these are my favorites so far. Seriously, guys, if you haven't read any of these stories already, you must! It's incredible how much talent is in this fandom. 
PS: I don't know/couldn't find everyone's Tumblr, either because they have a different username than on ao3 or don't have a blog here. If you recognize someone else's or your own work that I didn't @, please let me know and I'll edit it 😊
Let me begin with the fics with a love that transcends time and death.
(The first is the story that was written for me!! Please, guys, go, read it, and give some love to the extremely talented writer that came up with it! Words fail me to explain how amazing this fic is. Go read it and then you'll thank me for the rec.)
This is where we start again by @forbiddenfantasies1    
Explicit | chapters 8/8 | 40.7k words | past life au, modern setting, canon compliant
Brienne and Jaime had never met, but when they come together to work on a new project, they realize their connection may have been generations in the making.
Or in which Jaime and Brienne meet, begin having flashbacks to their ancestors lives, and are forced to figure out where they went wrong before they can determine how to make it right.
This life and the next by atomsandfairies    
Teen and up | chapters 6/6 | 8.2k words | historical setting, modern au
“Do you ever wonder how old our souls are? How many times we have missed and met? How many times we have come together?”
The questions have turned themselves over in her again and again, as long as they’ve been together, before he’s asked, before they’d even found each other.
There is a familiarity between them that seems too old for their time together.
Angstfest addicts, these are for you. Get ready to get beaten with feels. Don't worry, despite heartbreak along the way, all ends well.
My honor in your hands by @aviss    
General | one-shot | 2.8k words | hurt/comfort, missing scene, book canon
Jaime lasts the better part of a day before the silence gets to him.
By hearts and hands made fast by anonymous  
Mature | chapters 4/? | 10.1k words | 8x04 canon divergence, secret marriage 
»But he’d held her wrist even then, thumb stroking, Marry me, he’d said, marry me and never acknowledge it if you do not wish, but marry me as I should have married you that night and every other. If I’m to die, he’d said (with her, he had not), let me die as your husband.«
A grand romantic gesture has repercussions neither Jaime nor Brienne had foreseen.
Lies in the darkness by aleighcarlisle    
Mature | one-shot | 4.4k words | angst, hurt/comfort
"Hurt me with the truth, but never comfort me with a lie."
Man With a heartbeat by @sigilbroken        
Explicit | chapters 5/5 | 25.5k words | modern au
Angst is not your cup of tea? No problem. You should try the following. Only laughter, happy feelings ahead.
This one last thing by @aliveanddrunkonsunlight
Mature | One-shot | 13.3k words | Canon compliant, Post-ADWD, bed-sharing
Most tasks needed of a knight, he has been able to adapt to with only one hand, but he struggles with striking flint in order to start a fire. It would be easier if she was here.
Jaime and Brienne journey to the Vale.
What loves you back by @bookishpower    
Teen and up | one-shot | 11k words | fairytale-ish, post-canon
A retelling, and a continuation. Jaime learns the great lesson of his life.
That Would Be Enough by forpeaches (bluecarrots)
Mature | One-shot | 2.2k words | Canon compliant, Post-ADWD
Jaime, pining.
The unwitting third wheel by @nightreaderenigma (I should've known this was you!)  
Mature | chapters 4/4 | 17.8 k words | post-ADWD, canon compliant
Whilst recovering on the Quiet Isle, Podrick develops a crush on his mentor and heroine, Lady Brienne. The only hiccup in his bubble of infatuation is their new travelling companion – Ser Jaime Lannister. Because even though M’Lady Ser and the Golden Knight argue, there seems to be a bond between them he can’t quite place…
Warm by @angel-deux-writes      
Teen and up | one-shot | 13.5k words | canon divergence
Before the battle against the dead, Jaime volunteers for a routine patrol with Brienne to try and get some time to talk with her about why she has been avoiding him since he arrived at Winterfell. When a storm catches them unexpectedly when they're still far from the castle, they find a cave to hole up in for the night.
Way enough by laihiriel
Mature | chapters 3/5 | 10.8k words | modern setting, sports au
Brienne had forgotten how much she loved being out on the water. Joining the local boathouse and sitting in a scull again after her accident was the best thing she could have done for herself.
Because of you (i took my time to come around) by Weboury 
Teen and up | chapters 4/4 | 14.7k words | Modern setting, road trip, bed-sharing
Jaime, curator at the Tully Museum, wants to spend more time with Brienne, and maybe finally work around telling her how he feels about her. When Brienne, a historian, is tasked with retrieving the legendary sword Widow’s Wail from King’s Landing, Jaime thinks it’s the perfect time to put a plan in motion, only to find himself with Brienne and his cousin Cleos on an awkward road trip across the Riverlands. And then a goat shows up.
Kaleidoscope sky by allison_wonderland      
General | one-shot | 1k | modern au, carnivals
A terrible day, an unexpected stop, and drifting closer together.
Backpfeifengesicht by @samirant        
Explicit | one-shot  | 18.8 k words | modern au, enemies to friends to lovers
Backpfeifengesicht
(German) n. a face badly in need of a fist
See pictured: Jaime Lannister.
Brienne, Jaime and the Accidental marriage by @angel-deux-writes  
Teen and up | One-shot | 10k words | modern setting, reporter au 
Best friends, co-workers, and roommates Brienne and Jaime were supposed to head to Greywater Watch to cover a local festival for the newspaper at which they both work. They were NOT supposed to get married while they were there.  
Those who seek to find by @ice-connoisseur  
Teen and up | one-shot | 22.3k words | Jumanji au
But anyway, that was how it started: Arya found the game, and Sansa rolled the dice.
When you play the game of Jumanji, you win or you die.
In better light by winterkill   
Mature | one-shot | 17.7k words | canon divergence, post-ASOS
Perhaps Cersei was right, and every ounce of sense and bravery Jaime possessed was lost with his hand. Sansa Stark is my last chance for honor. He really said that to her? Brienne latched onto the sentiment like a hunting hound to the scent of its quarry. 
Before dawn, Jaime rises from his bed, wide awake and with a sense of renewed purpose.
I’m going to go with her.
If you're looking for adventures a little outside of the law, check these out  
Codename: kingslayer by libkat 
Mature | one-shot | 2.4k words | modern au, thief au
The world's greatest jewel thief is after his biggest score when he encounters his toughest opponent, who might also be the love of his life.
The Knight and the thief By @ddagent (this is the only one I guessed the author right. I knew it was you, Kelly) 
Teen and up | one-shot | 3.6k words | Modern au, burglar au, hurt/comfort
Jaime Lannister is rich, handsome – and a jewel thief. His next target is the home of Brienne Tarth, where he might finally find something worth stealing.
Last but not least, for those who like to hang out with creatures of the night, this one is for you
Into the spider's web by @jailynnW   
Teen and up | one-shot | 4.5k words | vampire au
Jaime has been a Vampire for centuries, dancing in and out of the grasp of his hunter. Brienne is tasked with taking down the Kingslayer. A mission that brings her more than she bargained for...
Hmm, it doesn't look bad that I'm going to do shameless self-promotion now that I've recommended the work of others, right? You know what? I don't care if it does. So here it is the one I wrote 😊
Made for you by me (Mare9548 on Ao3)
Teen and up | chapters 4/4 | 9.6k words | modern setting, arranged marriage
Despite his reluctance to get married, Jaime Lannister is having dinner with his future wife tonight. Quite a surprise he gets when he meets the woman that his father has chosen for him.
I'll come back later with more recs once I've gone through the rest of the amazing stories in the collection.
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More recs
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