#i think it’s largely one sided at least in intensity BUT i can’t put my finger on WHYYYY
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softness
Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader
summary: Joel’s a little unsure of doing skin to skin with his newborn daughter.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. established relationship. (TW) PREGNANCY. mentions of premature birth, minor descriptions of childbirth, mentions of birth weight, it is implied that reader is breastfeeding her baby, semi accurate medical journal research, girldad! Joel, mentions of scars (Joel), mentions of insecurities and anxieties, if i missed anything, please let me know! NO MENTION OF READER’S AGE. NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION OF READER. no physical description of child except for her hair color/type. very minimal editing.
word count: 3.5k
a/n: i had this outline sitting in my drafts and i decided to finally just write it out and post it. it ain’t much, but it’s honest work.
it is part of the safe and sound universe.
She’d made her entrance into the world early.
About four or five weeks, the commune’s doctor thinks.
Without ultrasounds, it’d been a guessing game.
And a fucking terrifying guessing game at that.
For several months, all you could do was hope.
Hope for a smooth pregnancy.
Hope for a safe labor and delivery.
Hope for a strong, healthy baby.
When you went into labor earlier than the doctor had predicted you would, all of your hopes shattered, the pieces falling around you like shards of broken glass you couldn’t put back together even if you tried.
“No! No, it’s too soon! It’s too fucking soon!” you’d cried out, the sheer panic setting in and seeping into your bones as a warm, clear liquid dripped down the insides of your legs and pooled around your bare feet. You had been in the kitchen making Ellie breakfast and packing her lunch for school—one second you’re standing there in front of the food pantry debating with yourself on what vegetable to throw into the kid’s lunch bag with her sandwich and the next you’re calling out for help as an intense pressure nestled itself between your hips. It wasn’t until you heard a faint popping sound and then felt the gush of fluid between your thighs that you’d realized what was happening. An unmistakable first sign of labor, you’d experienced your water breaking. “This can’t be happening, it’s not time yet!”
Joel, who by some stroke of sheer stupid luck had the morning off from patrol duty, instructed Ellie to run upstairs and gather some clean clothes along with a pair of boots and the warmest coat you owned that still fit. November had brought along the first snowfall of the season—the frigid temperatures outside were anything but kind and the clinic was on the opposite side of the commune, a fifteen minute walk he wished you didn’t have to make in your condition. “I know this is real fuckin’ scary darlin’ but y’need to stay calm. I need you to stay as calm as possible. Y’think that you can do that for me, sweetheart?”
He’d been just as terrified, but he masked it well.
On the outside, he kept a calm, collected composure for your sake and for Ellie’s too, shoved aside his own fears so he could be the support you both needed, act as the glue that held yours and his little family unit together should anything were to happen. But on the inside, he was scared shitless, to say the least. He couldn’t be certain he would have the strength to hold himself together if something went wrong, if he lost you—or his unborn child.
Admittedly, it had taken him a few months to come to terms with the fact that he was going to be a father again at this stage in his life. The thought of him changing diapers at his age was one he couldn’t quite wrap his mind around—but the moment he felt that first little flutter of movement one night as you lay curled up against his side fast asleep, something shifted. That night, he had stayed wide awake, his large hand splayed over your bare belly in hopes he would feel that little flutter again.
“Joel, I’m really fucking scared. What if it’s too early—”
“Baby, look at me.” He reached up and gently took your chin, holding it between his thumb and index finger as he coaxed your gaze to meet his own. “S’gonna be okay,” he’d assured you, softly. “If this is happenin’ now, it’s because she’s ready, alright?”
For a split second, that panic had ceased.
“She?”
Confused, Joel’s brow furrowed. “Huh?”
“You just referred to the baby as a she, Joel.”
“I did?”
“Yeah—just now.” You’d stared at him with curiosity and took a step back, cradling your belly in both of your hands. “Do you think we’re having a girl?”
Sheepishly, he had shaken his head at you.
“No, I just—m’sorry. I ain’t all too sure why I said that.”
He truly, honestly hadn’t.
It’d slipped before he could even think about it.
But his accidental slip had been right.
After thirteen hours of grueling labor in Jackson’s small clinic, you’d given birth to a little girl, the sound of her loud wailing filling the whole room like a sweet melody eliciting a sob of joy from you and a shaky sigh of relief from Joel.
“Holy shit, she’s here! She’s actually fucking here,” Ellie breathed, her eyes going wide. Her arms were still wrapped around one of your legs—despite you warning the teenager about what she would see, it hadn’t stopped her from volunteering her assistance in the childbirth process. She watched on in a mix of both fascination and disgust as Dr. Porter, a woman in her sixties who served as Jackson’s sole physician, lifted the infant and immediately placed her onto your bare chest to clean her off. “This has gotta be the grossest, most amazing fucking thing I have ever fucking seen in my life.” Gently, she set your leg down onto the bed before walking around it to stand beside Joel. His hand was stroking your hair, his dark eyes trained on his crying newborn daughter. It was the perfect moment for Ellie to run her mouth and tease, “You’re not gonna cry, are you, Joel? I’d think you’re a lot fucking tougher than that, old man.”
“Shut up,” he’d muttered under his breath, putting an arm around her and pulling her against his side. He almost couldn’t believe this was now his life—a life he would have never even known if he hadn’t flinched twenty years ago when he had pulled the trigger.
Though she’d been born a few weeks prematurely, Rosemary Miller was deemed to be healthy—a tad underweight, but nothing to be worried about just yet, according to Jackie, the commune’s nurse. At about four pounds, eleven ounces, Rosemary was the tiniest thing you’d ever seen and somehow even tinier when Joel would cradle her in the palms of his large hands. Despite the fact that you’d been reassured that the baby’s low birth weight was nothing to be alarmed about, you and Joel had been advised it was best if you didn’t take her home until she gained a few more ounces and tipped the a scale at what the books state is a normal birth weight of five pounds, eight ounces.
“We just would feel better if she were here at the clinic where we can closely monitor her weight,” Jackie had said upon seeing the crestfallen look on your face. “Besides, you tore a little and you need time to heal as well, you know.”
Left with very little choice, you’d agreed to it.
“I’m losing it,” you say with an exasperated sigh as you stare up at the drab, gray ceiling. It’s been three days since you had given birth and all you want to do is take your daughter home. In an effort to lift your spirits, Maria had tried to warm the place up and make it feel more comfortable for you. She had swapped out the rough, scratchy bedsheet the clinic provided for you with a soft, knitted blanket she had made herself. She also took it upon herself to pack you a bag with your own clothes, a couple of books to read, and your favorite polaroids of Joel and Ellie. While it had been incredibly sweet of her to do for you, you still wanted out of that clinic sooner rather than later. “I miss our house. I miss our bed. I miss our kid.”
Joel, who’s sitting in an old, worn leather armchair tucked over in a corner of your room next to the frosted window, raises an eyebrow at you and then juts his chin towards Rosemary, who is swaddled up and sleeping soundly in the plastic bassinet beside your bed.
“Our kid’s right there, darlin’.”
You lift your head off your pillow and glare at him.
“I’m talking about Ellie, Joel.”
He chuckles and leans forward in his chair. Next to him sits a brown stuffed bunny rabbit—Ellie had traded a precious comic book for it and gifted it to the baby the same afternoon she was born.
“She’s been comin’ to visit every day after school.”
“It’s not the same,” you pout, shaking your head.
Joel sighs and glances at the cot that he had been sleeping on for the last few days—truth be told, he misses the house too. His back certainly misses the bed. “It ain’t the same,” he agrees, tiredly. His face is worn with exhaustion. Despite you insisting that he go home and get some proper rest, he’s too stubborn to listen and only leaves the clinic to take a shower and change his clothes—and to check on Ellie, who’s got a bad habit of not doing her homework unless you or Joel nag her to get it done. “M’real sorry, darlin’. But you heard what they said. Baby’s gotta gain a little more weight before we can take her home.”
Even from where he’s sitting, he can see your eyes glaze over with tears of frustration. Since the baby was born, you’ve been very sensitive, more so than when you’d been pregnant—something he didn’t think was even possible.
“If she keeps on eatin’ the way she’s eatin’ we’ll be home by the end of the week,” Joel adds in an effort to cheer you up. “Besides, you need to heal before we make that long walk across town and back to the house, sweetheart. S’not like I can just pull up the fuckin’ minivan and drive you girls home like back in the day, y’know?”
You wrinkle your nose at him. “Ew, Joel. We would not have a fucking minivan.” Dabbing at your eyes with the back of your hand, you can’t help but laugh at the thought of Joel Miller behind the wheel of one of those things. Then, you realize how endearing it would be to watch as he’s loading up Rosemary’s car seat into the van, the muscles of his broad back flexing underneath his shirt as he pulled on the straps to make sure it was safe and secure. You’d climb into the backseat with her and on the way home, you would ask Joel to swing through the nearest burger joint drive through because you’re fucking starving and in need of a proper meal after being subjected to boring, bland hospital food. You shoot him a small smile. “On second thought, that doesn’t sound all that bad. Maybe we would.”
Suddenly, there’s a light knock at the door.
“Come in,” you call, careful not to be too loud.
Dr. Porter walks into the room.
She had been a primary care physician prior to the world ending, according to Maria, who a couple of months ago had given birth to her son while under Dr. Porter’s care. Maria had assured you that, even though the woman never trained in obstetrics, she always went above and beyond for all the mothers to be in the commune. She dedicated her spare time to studying, lost herself in medical books she found on the shelves of the town’s library—kind of like the one that’s currently tucked underneath her arm.
“Hi there mama,” she greets, her eyes shining brightly behind her coke-bottle glasses. Wearing jeans and a sweater, she doesn’t quite look the part—maybe she’d worn a white coat once in her life, but now it was only the old, silver metal stethoscope she had draped around her neck that gave her profession away. “How are you feeling this morning?”
“I’m okay,” you say with a shrug. “Can’t complain.”
Over in his corner, Joel can’t help but snort.
Ignoring him, you add, “Bleeding’s slowing down.”
“Good, that’s good,” Dr. Porter tells you. “And how about this sweet little girl?” She smiles and makes her way over to the bassinet, keeping her voice low. “She eating well?”
“She is. Her last feed was about two hours ago.”
“How’s she sleeping?”
“Like a rock.”
“And you’ve been doing skin to skin as well?”
You nod. “Yes, before and after her feedings.”
“That’s perfect.” Dr. Porter beams at you with pride. “Keep it up and do it as often as possible. There are a ton of benefits of doing skin to skin with her. It’s one of the most incredible things that a mother can do for her baby. Actually—” She pauses for a moment and pulls the book out from under her arm. “I have been doing a bit of research and as it turns out, there are also benefits if dad does skin to skin with baby as well.”
Joel stiffens slightly in his chair. “S’cuse me?”
“I found this book in the library. It talks about all of the benefits of fathers doing skin to skin with their newborn. It was written some time in the nineties and studies were still being conducted, but I really believe they were onto something.” She hands you the book. “For being preterm, Rosemary’s healthy, but it doesn’t do any harm to try whatever you can to make sure that she builds up that immune system and stays healthy, especially now that winter’s here.” Flashing you a smile, she informs you, “I went ahead and folded the pages for you and made some notes. There’s a few benefits in it for Joel as well. Could be worth a try.”
After telling you she’ll be back in a couple hours to check on you and to weigh the baby, Dr. Porter excuses herself from your room, quietly closing the door behind her.
Curiously, you open the book to the first page that she’d folded for you and start reading the first passage out loud.
“Ongoing studies have found skin to skin between father and child have similar benefits to those that come from skin to skin between mother and child. It regulates the baby's body temperature, blood sugar, and stress levels.” You pause and look over at Joel, who appears thoroughly unimpressed. “It also helps to regulate the baby’s heart rate and breathing rate. Joel, this is incredible! I think you should—”
“No.”
Joel winces. He doesn’t mean to sound so curt.
Your face falls. “Why not?”
“That’s for mothers,” he grumbles. “Y’know, for feedin’ the baby.”
“It’s for much more than just that.” You shake your head and flip over to the next page, scanning both the text as well as Dr. Porter’s notes. “It says here that it also helps the baby pick up their father’s natural scent and promotes bonding.”
“Sweetheart, I can bond with her just fine with my fuckin’ shirt on, there ain’t no need for me to—what in the world are you doin’?” Perturbed, Joel watches you as you take a handful of your blanket, throwing it off yourself. He jumps up to his feet the second he realizes that you’re about to get out of bed. “Don’t—”
“Oh relax, Joel. I should be moving more anyway,” you say, wincing as you sit up and swing both legs over the side of the bed. It isn’t so much pain as it is discomfort—everything had been shoved up and out of place for months, after all. As soon as you stand, Joel’s there at your side, one hand on your arm and the other on your back, trying to guide you back onto the bed. You lightly swat him away with your hand. “Joel, stop fussing over me! I’m fine!”
“Baby, y’need to lie down right now—”
“Take off your shirt.”
His hands fall away from you and his eyes widen.
“What?”
“Take off your shirt and go sit down in the chair.”
The blood drains from his face and he pales.
It’s not that Joel doesn’t want to do it. He does.
He’ll do anything if it’s for his daughter’s benefit.
Still.
The idea of laying his innocent little baby girl on him without his shirt on—it’s uncomfortable. His chest and stomach are littered with several scars. Rough, raised patches of skin that serve as reminders of a brutal past he doesn’t want her finding out about, not for as long as he can fucking help it.
Rosemary deserves to be wrapped up in softness.
The softness of your smooth, blemish free skin.
The softness of the blankets you’d knitted for her.
The softness of the stuffed bunny Ellie had given her.
Joel?
He isn’t soft.
Nothing about him is soft.
Even holding her in his hands for the first time had been something of a battle. Hands that once snapped necks and slit throats didn’t deserve to hold something so pure and innocent.
“This sounds really promising, Joel.” Slowly, you make your way over to the plastic bassinet, ignoring the dull ache between your thighs. With your back to him, you carefully begin to unswaddle the baby. You try not to wake her as you peel off her warm, knitted onesie and matching socks, leaving her in nothing but her teeny, tiny cloth diaper. Gingerly, you pick her up and turn around to face him. “If Dr. Porter thinks we should try it, then it’s for a good reason, don’t you think so?”
Joel swallows harshly.
“What is it?”
“S’just that I—I’ve got scars everywhere, y’know?”
Your expression instantly softens for him. “Joel, you’re her daddy,” you remind him, gently. “She’s not going to care about things like that.” Pausing, it suddenly occurs to you that it’s not just about his scars. It’s about something else, something that runs so much deeper for Joel. He’d done what he had done in order to survive, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t live with the shame—the guilt and the regret. Rosemary begins to fuss awake and you lightly bounce her in your arms as you assure him, “She isn’t going to care about your past or what you’ve done. Her love for you is going to be as unconditional as yours is for her. She’s going to love you no matter what, Joel. I can promise you that.”
His jaw clenches and his lips press into a tight line.
Rosemary starts to cry—she’s cold, no doubt.
The old heater in the clinic hardly runs.
And when it does, it breaks down.
“Joel, please,” you beg over her wails. “Just try it? For me? For her?”
Sighing in defeat, Joel shrugs out of his jacket and he tosses it aside. With trembling fingers, he begins to unbutton his green flannel shirt—his long sleeved thermal henley comes off next and then he takes off the cotton t-shirt he wears underneath for an added layer of warmth during the winter season. As he stands there shirtless, he shivers and his flesh erupts with goosebumps. “Wait,” he mutters as he watches you take a step forward. He drags the armchair away from the window. He then sits down, his heart racing and the anxiety flaring as he gives you a subtle nod of his head. “Okay.”
You walk over to him and place her on his bare chest.
The second he feels Rosie’s soft skin on his, there’s a shift.
It’s similar to the one he felt when he first felt her move in your belly.
He calms and his heart slows—his nerves dissipate.
And Rosemary stops crying.
She scrunches, curls up on his chest, and yawns.
Grimacing, you lean over and pick up his flannel shirt. “Here,” you say, draping it over them as a makeshift blanket. “How’s that feel?”
“Think she likes it, darlin’,” Joel murmurs, his fingers delicately brushing over her soft tufts of dark brown hair. His touch causes the newborn’s lip to curl and he catches a glimpse of the prominent dimple in her left cheek—the same dimple Sarah had inherited from him, Rosemary had inherited too. There’s a dull ache in his chest, but somehow, he still smiles as she peers up at him with sleepy eyes. “Hi, Rosie Posie. S’me, babygirl. Your daddy.”
Rolling your lip between your teeth, you stifle a giggle.
“What?” he asks, arching an eyebrow at you.
“She’s not the only one who seems to like it.”
Joel chuckles, admitting, “S’pretty relaxin’.” He presses his nose into his daughter’s curls and inhales deeply, relishing in the warm, sweet milky scent of her. After a minute, his smile falters slightly. “Baby?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you really believe it?”
Your brow furrows. “Believe what?”
“That she’s gonna love me no matter what.”
“Of course I do.”
“How can you be so sure ‘bout it?”
Carefully, you perch yourself on the arm of the chair and press a gentle kiss against his right temple, your lips brushing over his scar. “Because I just am, Joel.”
Somehow, he believes it—he believes you.
Joel tilts his head back, puckering his lips.
Grinning, you give him a chaste kiss before standing. “I’m going to see if I can get a nap in before her next feed,” you tell him, padding back over to the bed. “Do you think you’ll be okay with her for a while, just the two of you?”
“I think we’ll be just fine,” he murmurs, gingerly stroking Rosemary’s silky cheek with his finger. “Yeah. We’ll be just fine, won’t we, babygirl?”
divider credit to @saradika-graphics 🤎
#joel miller x reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x you#joel miller fluff#joel miller x pregnant reader#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller drabble#joel miller one shot#joel miller fic#the last of us fanfiction#tw pregnancy#tw childbirth#tw premature birth
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True Love Conquers All (Lilypad Essay cont.)
Ever since I realized the fairytale parallel was one of the main reasons I ship Lilypad, I've wanted to draw this, so here it is! Sig and Moon as Prince Phillip and Princess Aurora!
Actually, though, besides the drawing I'm also making this because I wanted to expand on that point from my Lilypad essay; there's still more I wanna gush about regarding the fairytale parallel!
I was too nervous to say it before, because it's derived largely from my personal tastes. However, I really wanna just write about my opinions on it now. Much of it's actually the feelings I've had about several ships before in various other fandoms, yet I've never really had the courage to express these feelings openly because I have yet to find even one person in any of these fandoms who feels the same way. However, I started thinking about it again, and I think it's about time I get it out somehow, at the very least to express these feelings in some tangible way so they don't stay bottled up forever. And maybe, just maybe, to find someone who likes these themes as much as I do!
Again, it's definitely very personal, so I don't mind if you completely disagree with all of it. But with that being said, if you want to read an additional 1,846 words on Lilypad fantasies, it's just below the cut!
To elaborate on why I love ships with fairytale parallels so much, it has to do with the poetic feeling stories like Sleeping Beauty seem to carry. I must preface that I don’t know the original fairytale, I’m pretty much entirely going off the 1959 animated Disney film, but even so I still love various themes within it and how they can be applied to other stories. Sleeping Beauty isn’t the only old Disney movie where I interpret these themes, or even the only animated story in general where these themes can be interpreted, but I think it’s overall the most similar to Lilypad specifically because of the whole “fair maiden dies and gets revived by the prince’s love” dynamic.
Something I’ve come to realize, especially upon developing a love for Rain World specifically, is that I adore stories about accepting one’s own nature and learning how to have it coexist with your personal goals rather than conflict with it. Sleeping Beauty has this not only through the eternal bond between Aurora and Phillip (I mean, “Once Upon a Dream” literally seems to be about how the singer will always love the person they fell for even if their love seemed too good to be true), but in the whole curse put on Aurora and the “true love conquers all” message. The conflict is all about how to ensure Aurora’s safety despite the impending doom of Maleficent’s curse on her, which is made more intense by how the curse can’t really be stopped, only lessened in severity. However, the inevitability of true love’s triumph over all obstacles, and really the inevitability of nature as a whole, is just so beautiful to me because it’s something so universal. As much as we may try to hide it, we humans are still animals, and still a part of nature as much as any other animal is, so the idea that forces as powerful and omnipresent as natural phenomenon could just as easily be on your side and working to help you reach your goals instead of trying to hurt you and keep you from them is very comforting specifically because of how powerful and inevitable these forces are. I mean, if forces like those can pose a seemingly impossible challenge when they seem to oppose your goals, what if they could also supply seemingly invincible support if you learned to work with them? Hence, why true love conquers all. It’s basically, “I can’t stop this thing, but maybe I don’t actually need to”. And the fact that both this and the next theme I’ll write about are present in stories which are, by this point, quite old, and can even be interpreted in newer and more recent stories just helps to further support their eternal, everlasting power by adding a sense of real-life timelessness to it all that I just find so beautiful!
Part of my love for stories like this actually comes from a specific natural force I freaking love and have been craving more of ever since I rewatched the old Disney movies and really begun to appreciate the poetic themes of them, and that force is the classic attraction between men and women. I’m not gonna get super into it now because I imagine I’ll have other chances to talk about this (again, Lilypad is far from the first ship I’ve derived this theme from, and I doubt it will be the last), but I’ll provide an intro of sorts to it here. If you’ve seen my full Lilypad essay you already know I’m a BIG fan of “inverses attract” ships, where the characters display opposite sides of the same base trait, conflict, or subject, and when they come together they help balance each other out in ways no one else can by offering each other the benefits unique to the other side of that subject. Well, simply put, if you ask me, what better example of this “inverses attract” dynamic exists in real life than the natural inverses of male and female, where the strong protectiveness and creative nurturing combine to literally create a family, from which all people come? The presence of the inverses attract dynamic is always nice to see in ships regardless of gender, but whether or not it occurs in this way specifically — that being whether or not it showcases the inverse characteristics of men and women and the positive potential when those forces combine as a team — is another major factor that, throughout my fandom experience so far, has determined which pairings I actively ship rather than just mildly smile at from time to time. (And on a side note, now that I have much more skill in art and feel more confident about my art, I figured it’s about time I start acting on that love more openly!)
So what in the WORLD does this all have to do with Lilypad?
Well, even disregarding how this very idea will basically be the major theme of my personal worm-off-the-string AU (I may elaborate on that more later because it’s just SO perfect for these particular characters and can even be interpreted in the base game to some degree), I think Lilypad, at least as I choose to imagine it, is the Rain World ship that best embodies this idea — that nature and instincts can actually help you once you simply stop fighting and accept them — more than any other in the fandom for a variety of reasons.
I’m actually going to start with how Looks to the Moon and No Significant Harassment, as strange as this may sound given who and what these characters are, actually do still display that feminine and masculine energy I love at least when I picture them, especially with Sig being confirmed as a “he” according to the wiki. It’s clear to me that Moon is very feminine (I mean, c’mon, her design in the CGs, how the moon is often associated with femininity and feminine things in real life, how she tries, even after her collapse, to connect with Five Pebbles and nurture their relationship in a very caring way, etc.), but I wanna elaborate on how part of the reason I love Sig as a character and the slag reset keys as a plot point so much is because it perfectly demonstrates that masculine protectiveness that happens in stories like Sleeping Beauty, where a man faces great trials all to rescue the fair maiden. Again, it may not have happened literally because Hunter had to deliver the slag keys, but the sentiment is the same if you ask me! And it’s always so nice to see because, again, he literally brought her back to life! How could it NOT be a sign of deep love and devotion that someone would go through so much trouble just to make sure you’re okay?
It’s also great because I imagine the local group would have a tendency to not always take Sig seriously because he’s so careless about their purpose, so I’m sure the slag key stunt would also warrant a lot more respect for him from the other iterators. This is another thing I love seeing — both when the character everyone else overlooks finally uses their full power and their peers have to re-evaluate their impression of them, but specifically when men feel inspired to use their full power and skills to help the women they love! I love it because it demonstrates just how powerful and valuable femininity can be, shedding light on a more subtle kind of power, that being power through influence and aura rather than raw strength and stubbornness. Heck, I like to imagine wanting to protect Looks to the Moon and make sure she lasts as long as possible is a major reason why, in my AU, their physical interactions are when Sig and Moon finally begin to act on their love despite it having existed almost since Sig came online. Moon’s collapse would’ve shown both of them directly that she won’t be around forever, and if you ask Sig, someone as beautiful, kind, intelligent, noble, and all-around beloved as Looks to the Moon deserves to at least enjoy her life a little more before she fades (again), even if all the iterators falling apart is inevitable. But, coming back to what I said about nature, the inevitability of the eventual end is what makes the time they have left all the more precious!
And that’s the next part of Sleeping Beauty and fairytale-esque stories I see in Lilypad — there’s also the inevitability of this dynamic, which hits hard with Rain World iterators specifically because their whole purpose is fundamentally opposed to natural phenomena. Solving the Great Problem is, as far as I know, all about trying to escape the natural cycle of life, death, and reincarnation, and likely about escaping all natural cycles as a whole. And the iterators exist specifically to facilitate this rejection on a massive scale. So think about how poetic it would be that even they, seemingly so far detached, so far above these things, STILL fall in love and embrace these forces despite every attempt by the Ancients to prevent them from doing so! It’s made better by the fact that the iterators are machines and, even though they’re very much biomechanical ones (a big example of natural phenomena still manifesting in them despite their attempts to separate from it), one can argue they’re therefore somewhat detached from nature inherently, especially that bond between masculinity and femininity I discussed. So again, the fact it still finds a way to show up in them despite seemingly having much less reason to exist and the iterators themselves likely having much less desire to possess it just re-emphasizes how eternal it is. But once again, are they (and by extent, we the audience) sure that’s such a bad thing?
Lilypad in an ideal scenario, to me, is of all the Rain World ships the strongest embodiment of “true love conquers all, and that’s not a bad thing after all!”
And it makes me more eager to develop my worm-off-the-string AU because I imagine that’s where their relationship really gets to flourish. Moon and Sig can finally enjoy that physical aspect of romance, and Moon in particular would, by that point, more confidently join him in rejecting the Ancients’ ascensionist philosophy. Not to mention how cute it would be to see them drawing parallels between their relationship and the love the Ancients used to feel for one another long ago, once again supporting true love as a truly timeless phenomenon. And it would branch off to not just embracing their romance that existed for so long but could never fully go anywhere, but learning to enjoy and partake in all the aspects of the world that were denied to them and that they were told to deny for who knows how long! And when it comes to not just for Sig and Moon, but the local group as a whole, what could be more poetic than that?
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Man, a HUGE thank you to anyone who made it to the bottom of all this! To know that anyone bothered to at least consider what I have to say in this fandom is always nice, but with this in particular I greatly appreciate anyone who read it all! And again, PLEASE let me know if you agree with any of this, especially the parts about masculine-feminine teamwork. I'd love to know even one other person in one of my fandoms who's into that as well, and maybe even hear possible additions to it!
Regardless, I've gone on about this for so many words already. I hope you enjoyed the ideas, or at least the art! Thanks again for reading!
#art#artwork#drawing#digital#digital art#painting#digital painting#fanart#rain world#iterator#rw iterator#looks to the moon#LttM#rw lttm#no significant harassment#NSH#rw nsh#rw lilypad#rw lifeline#quetzalli draws#quetzalli pairs#quetzalli's thoughts
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No one understands Attack on Titan
Been struggling with getting my thoughts on paper with how busy this new job is making me.
Looking for another job and got a 2nd interview today that is remote so I can have more time to dedicate to these videos
But anyway...
I wanted to share what I have so far to see if what everyones thoughts were? Anything I should add? Missing any points? I'd love to see your thoughts ^^
************THE VIDEO STARTS HERE*******************
More than a decade has passed since the release of Attack on Titan, a manga and eventual adapted anime that epically impacted anime culture globally by and large.
For just as much as an intense and emotionally stirring series Attack on Titan was and continues to be, that same inspiration reverberated into the many hearts of its fandom.
Spawning cosplay free of racial or ethnic limitations, A story in which its setting takes place in what most considered at the time a post apocalyptic world similar to the popular series “The Walking Dead” which landed Attack on Titan and in turn anime as a whole into the western lime light and in even more countries around the world, with characters and ideologies so meaningful and captivating that fans globally could not help but take the very same stance as our heroes, dedicating their very hearts to the Scouts cause and for 10 years heavily anticipated what the story would bring next.
Unfortunately however, it is within those 10 years where Attack on Titans characters, themes, and its very creator has always been and continues to be heavily misunderstood for reasons in which I can only define as misguided, projecting, and entirely foolish
Whether that is due to the possibility that I have surrounded myself in a conundrum of echo chambers of the naive, and ignorant is up for debate, (Show a faded icon of Twitter) but the fact that these misunderstandings happens by and large by both side lined spectators and fans of the show inexorably reinforces the topic this video discusses.
Despite being a story which expresses a tragically beautiful message meant to juxtapose itself within reality, no one TRULY understands Attack on Titan, or at least very few people do and with good reason.
What started as a young boys endeavor for the freedom of his species would eventually find himself caught in the complex webs of the machinations of human corruption.
Peeling layer by layer the extensive history of humanities cruelty, and the horrifying realization of the commentary Attack on Titan has tried to impose from the very beginning. Creating a rift within the fandom from the drastic change of how easily relatable its story used to be into how difficult of a question the story imposes towards its conclusions.
Leading people to accuse Attack on Titan for being anti-semetic and harboring fascist and imperialist subtext, that Eren Jeagar is a useless cry baby, a totalitarian tyrant and most importantly a god damn simp with the story's conclusion being heavily criticized as ruined, clumsy and just straight up bad.
But all of these statements couldn’t be any more wrong, most of their arguments set on such a fragile foundation that all it takes is a simple thought to topple it to the ground, which is exactly what this video sets out to do.
For those that the fandom has labeled as “Yeagerists” “Zekists” or even “AOE speculators” I ask this of you…
Instead of pondering what could’ve been, what your idealistic perceptions of how Eren should’ve acted in his final moments, or what was the right choice in the end, I ask of you, what do you think Isayama is trying to say with Attack on Titans story?
Is it hopelessness and futility or is it something much more behind the futility?
Put your theories and ships aside and ask yourself, what is Attack on Titan asking us?
Attack on Titans asks of us a horrifying question, a question that remains integral and consistent within the story through out. But due to its uncomfortable nature, most people can’t help but shy away from it and instead criticize it narrow mindedly.
After all, how can most people empathize with acts of cruelty and oppression? How can most people not be upset at the social stratification the series presents? Its barbarous, its inhumane, but its horrifyingly real.
As the story begins with a hopelessly naive young boys idealistic perception of the world caught in the apex of mans cruelty eventually warped into a desperate man crushed by the viciousness of the world.
From the casts original objective to preserve mans existence, a fight for species survival eventually flipped on its head to something much more complex, rooted in self interest and strikingly real to events in our real lives.
Attack on Titan was never a story that avoided imposing a difficult question, an unavoidable question with no escape or unrealistic solutions that our main characters would have to face, where no hope or dream would survive as Isayama gives us an answer that we could never see coming.
Play: and on that day humanity received a grim reminder, that we lived in fear of the titans…
Oppression
A common complaint I often hear in regards to Attack on Titan is that it promotes anti-semitic and fascist ideals.
Antisemitism is the act of hostility or prejudice against a specific race, while Facism is a way of organizing a society in which a government ruled by a dictator controls the lives of the people and cannot be disobeyed without severe consequences.
And while these descriptions are extremely apparent within the story, the detail that most are missing is if Isayama himself promotes such principles.
From a power hungry tyrannical king whose only goal is territorial conquest, to a corrupt nation which promotes anti semitic propaganda to succeed in the very same ambitions as the evil king before them, to the once prominent king hailed by many stands alone in his passivity as he traps his subjects in multi layered ignorance condemning them to an inevitable death, to the world which fervently yearns for your death simply for what you are.
What we can draw from this is that the setting in which Attack on Titan takes place in clearly represents anti-semetism and fascist principles, but just because it does should not mean that Isayama himself supports it which can clearly be seen when you look at the ramifications the story presents to us of said principles
To the lone man who walks the path of a devil implanted with the wanten desire of freedom bred from the oppression that surrounded him at a young age, to the many Eldians who were ignorantly held captive beyond their understanding as they lay helpless only to die, to a nation who reclaimed their land and liberty from their oppressors and to a lone fragile young woman who constantly finds herself in awe at the sight of what a slave can never have.
Eren Jeagar and the Scouts are the antithesis to the very principles that people accuse Attack on Titan of supporting, with their symbol representing wings soaring towards freedom; they fight for liberty against the monsters that condemn them within the confines of the walls, seeking to eliminate that which prevents them from their birthright, even going as far as dismantling the oppressive government power that had systematically oppressed the nation for over a century until eventually with their backs against the walls, they are forced to fight against the world.
Attack on Titan while again being a story surrounded around the idea of anti semitism and facism was never a story that supported it but instead adamantly opposed it.
Eren Jeagar personifies this ideal, from his early youth Eren came to the realization that freedom was a given right to all people who are born into the world, and slowly began to realize that everything that surrounded him, the walls, the titans and even his own people prevented that and this knowledge enraged him.
Throughout the story, Eren continues to fight towards this ideal until he eventually came to realize the significant amount of sacrifice it would take to see his dream a reality.
And yet in spite of that, people often misconstrue Erens intentions, the foundation of his motivations, and the very contents of his dreams.
Eren Jeagar is the sole character who encompasses a majority of the themes and messages Attack on Titans demonstrates, however, its partly due to how heavily misunderstood Eren is that leads most people to fall short when it comes to recognizing what it is that Attack on Titan is trying to say…
Erens actions towards the end of the story is highly controversial, polarizing the fanbase into those who empathize with his decisions vs those who simply can not.
And all the while, people who are stuck on the topic of whether Eren was right or wrong is simply irrelevant
The Rumbling, while undoubtedly able to stir a moral dilemma to the viewers, is but a rather large piece to an even larger picture.
Attack on Titan does not focus on the idea of what is right or what is wrong, at least not on an individual level, but instead offers us layers of dark gray circumstances that shows us who the true enemies are.
*Play Erwin: “That was a weird question” scene*
The enemy of Oppression: Dreams
When one is completely surrounded by sorrow and strife, what lays dormant inside of us all is the constant struggle to persevere towards attaining a state of being which provides us the greatest feeling of contentment.
However, most of us if not all of us fall into the trap of completely romanticizing our dreams to the point where we become blindsided to the effects in which our endeavors may bring as a result.
And the more dogmatically we substantiate our dreams, the heavier the weight becomes when reality plunders what we had desperately hoped for.
Mention how the cruelty of the world twists those dreams into malicious ambitions to persevere
*Play the scene between Erwin and Levi “Is this more important than the fate of humanity? Yes.”
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Hi! Am I able to get a super fluffy Steven Grant fic where the reader is best friends with him (and knows about Marc) but she is a Performing Arts student and her last show is soon. She invites Steven but is worried that Marc might ruin it but they were both cheering her on (Marc mentally cus this is Steven time) and he gives her a hug after the show and accidentally confesses with maybe "I fell in love with you all over again?"
AN | Steven is the softest best boyfriend…and Marc’s not too bad either. Enjoy!
Pairing | Steven Grant x Fem!Reader
Warnings | None
Word Count | 1.2k
Masterlist | Main, Moon Knight
── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──
“Are you nervous, darling?” Steven popped up in the mirror behind you, a beaming smile on his face as his eyes met yours. You tried to muster up a smile, but found yourself falling short and giving him a tight-lipped half smile, “there’s no need to be.”
“Considering it’s my final showcase - performance - I think I deserve to be nervous,” you huffed lightly, only causing him to laugh. The sound in itself was beautiful and managed to put a sense of ease into your bones and you relaxed slightly. Steven felt better once he noticed some of the tension leave your shoulders, “what if I-”
“You have nothing to worry about,” he insisted, pressing a kiss to the side of your head, “it’ll be perfect…and even in the off chance that it wasn’t perfect, no one will know.”
“I hope so,” you agreed before turning around to wrap him in a tight embrace. He made a small sound of surprise at the sudden hug but didn’t stop you. Instead, he held you back with such as much intensity, “Steven…I…you’ll come, right? To the showcase?”
"That's not even a question, darling," his hands found your shoulders and gave them a gentle squeeze. You nodded gently before touching his face and stroking his cheek, "alright, I know how to read you a little better than you think…what else is bothering you? I hope you know that you can tell me anything…"
"I know," you whispered softly, "I…I don’t want anything to happen with Marc."
“Marc wouldn’t do anything,” he insisted and while you were reluctant to admit it, Marc was a lot of things but a general jerk he was not, “and besides, he knows it’s my time with you. He can be a right prick but he has some decency.”
“I suppose I can’t argue with that logic,” you laughed lightly, nodding as you exhaled deeply in an attempt to rid yourself of all the worry and nervous energy, “thank you.”
“Whatever for?” he tilted his head to the side, not unlike a puppy as he looked at you with those soft big brown eyes.
“For being you,” you whispered, leaning in for a kiss, “and being wonderful as ever.”
“Oh,” a bright red flush rose up on his cheeks as he eagerly accepted your kiss. He wished there was time to let it go further, but he reminded himself to stay strong and hold back - for now anyway, “we should…I’ll let you finish getting ready. We’ll have to go soon to make it on time.”
“Right,” you agreed, feeling your stomach flip slightly, “I can do this. I will do this.”
── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──
The whole evening went by in a blur. One moment you were finishing getting ready to go and then leaving with Steven and the next you were on stage. It was a strange thing really, to think about the fact that this would be your last performance, at least in an academic setting. In a way it was like the end of an era, and the beginning of a new one. The one thing that was a constant was Steven…and there was no one else you’d rather have gone through this with.
The funny thing about performing on stage which most people never realized unless they got on stage themselves is that the audience was but a blur. The stage lights dulled everything out and there really wasn’t much to see in the audience except a sea of darkness. This evening however, there was one standout; in the large crowd your eyes still managed to find him. You thought you might have been nervous, but instead you felt calmed and it was almost as if you were speaking to him and him alone. It made the whole experience just that much better.
The rapturous applause that reached your ears didn’t hurt either, but none of that really mattered at the end of the day. The only thing that mattered was that you had survived and done your best.
Once everything was over and you were settled and changed, you walked out into the cool evening air and looked around for Steven. He spotted you before you could see him, almost tripping over his own feet in his excitement to get to you. There was a large bouquet of daisies, daffodils, and amaryllis in his arms and he excitedly held them out to you.
“Congratulations, my love,” his smile threatened to break his face in half as you gently took them from him. Between the gorgeous flowers and your love, your heart was filled to bursting and you had to fight back the sting of fresh tears. He seemed alarmed by the sound shift of expression, “what’s wrong? Did I-I do something?”
“No,” you promised as you dabbed at your eyes, “yes, but no. This is just so wonderful…and kind. I love you very much, Steven Grant.”
He gave you a shy little smile before kissing your forehead, “I love you too. Very much. I…I don’t know if it’s possible, but I think I just fell in love with you all over again. I fall in love with you a little more every day.”
“Steven,” you touched his cheek before running a hand through his wild curls, “that might be the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me. There is no way to put into words just how much I love you, but just know it is a ton and then more.”
“I’d say that’s an awful lot,” your words had him feeling like a shy boy more than a grown man. He was sure Marc would tease him about later on, but then speaking of Marc…”you were amazing. You did…a wonderful job, fantastic. And I’m not the only one who thinks so. Marc was very impressed too. He wanted me to tell you.”
“Oh really?” you raised an eyebrow in surprise but couldn’t deny that the praise felt you feeling good. You’d always had a funny little relationship with Marc, but you wouldn’t think he would enjoy something like this. Steven nodded eagerly, “you’ll have to…I’ll have to thank him later. It means a lot…really, having you - both of you really - here for me. It made this so much better. Thank you.”
“Nothing to thank me for,” he insisted gently, “if anything we should be thanking you for that performance. But right now, I have one more big question for you…”
“Which would be?”
“Would you like to go to dinner with me?”
“Always,” you laughed lightly at the jokingly serious look on his features, “you must have read my mind. I would never turn down dinner. Where to?”
“You pick,” he grinned as your eyes lit up in excitement, “tonight is about you, my love.”
“Steven…I love you.”
“I love you more,” he promised, “always.”
#steven grant#steven grant x reader#steven grant x fem!reader#steven grant x you#oscar isaac#oscar isaac x you#oscar isaac x reader#marc spector#moon knight
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'Calamity Crew AU'.
No pressure, but go on--
(also hi :D)
Hi!
Okay so my Calamity Crew AU is my very first AU for the Amphibia fandom in addition to being one of my favorites that I’ve created
Get ready for a ramble
This AU is canon divergent starting at the end of True Colors. When Andrias stabs Marcy, his sword goes through and destroys the music box. The stones are destroyed and the full power of the stones is returned to the girls. Andrias is the only one to notice. Anne and Sasha are too distraught over Marcy’s death and Marcy can’t notice because she’s dead
Anne returns home, Sasha and Grime head off to Wartwood, Andrias puts Marcy in the rejuvenation tank.
But when Anne gets home she’s broken by everything that happened in True Colors and breaks down
Everything goes very similar to canon on her end, she’s just grieving for Marcy more. At least until Commander Anne.
Sasha’s side of the story is very different. Turning Point is the same, but when she starts leading the rebellion, she cracks under all the pressure and stress, causing her Calamity powers to activate. Grime tries to calm her down and she freaks out, lashing out at Grime. She thinks she hurt him and runs into the woods so that she doesn’t hurt anyone else.
And on Marcy’s end. The Core wants to possess Marcy, same as canon, but there’s that problem of Marcy being imbued with her powers. The Core knows that those powers rightfully belong to Marcy and so it knows that if Marcy decides to fight back and figures out how to use her Calamity powers, then it stands no chance. It still possesses her, but once inside her mind, they wipe a lot of her memories. Basically, they wipe anything that they think will give her the will to fight back, like memories of her friends.
Little do they know, Marcy was able to preserve those memories deep inside her own mind, thanks to the nature of her powers
Now before I go any further, I should probably tell you this. In this AU, their powers are different from canon in two major ways. The first way is that the three girl’s powers actually are what they say they are. Anne’s powers actually align with being the heart, Sasha’s align with strength, and Marcy’s align with wit.
Which means that Sasha’s powers boost her physical strength and bravery, Anne’s powers still boost her strength as seen in True Colors but not as much as Sasha’s powers boost her strength. Marcy’s powers align with mind control, telepathy, and telekinesis. Anne also has healing powers.
The other major difference in the powers is that they manifest differently. When Anne uses her powers, she has deer antlers, dragonfly wings, webbed hands, and deer legs. Sasha’s powers give her heron wings, a heron tail, heron feet, and horns. The horns are somewhat connected to her circlet, so when her powers manifest she can’t exactly take off the circlet. In addition, the horns are metallic to match the metal of her circlet. Marcy’s powers give her large luna moth wings, axolotl frills, webbed hands and feet, and an axolotl tail.
Another last thing about their powers is that after they use their powers for a long time, the traits their powers gave them start to stick with them.
During her time on earth, Anne never used her full power, which means that she never manifested those traits.
Anne and the Plantars get back to Wartwood to find Grime leading the Resistance. Anne wants to know where Sasha is and Grime tells her that Sasha disappeared into the woods a month ago shortly after Anne was teleported away.
Anne is worried about Sasha and sets off to find her. When she finally sees Sasha, she’s stunned.
Sasha’s powers are more intense than in canon because they align with strength. Ever since they activated, they’ve been driving Sasha crazy. She’s been run ragged trying to control her powers and failing.
When Anne sees Sasha, it’s almost as if her powers have possessed her, but there’s enough Sasha still in there that she’s terrified of hurting Anne. Anne tried to reassure her by telling Sasha that she didn’t hurt Grime and she knows Sasha would never hurt her. Sasha tried to fly away, but she’s exhausted and sick from battling her powers that she gives up. Anne takes her back to the resistance base. Once there, Grime greets them but is surprised that Anne managed to bring Sasha back. When he registers what a bad state Sasha’s in, he has her sent off to the medics to be taken care of.
I don’t know what happens for the rest of season 3B up until The Beginning of the End. All I know is that it’s probably somewhat similar to canon.
In this AU equivalent to All In, Sasha still fights Darcy, but it’s a full-on Calamity battle.
And I’m going to stop here so that I don’t spoil the ending.
If you have any suggestions, they would be greatly appreciated!
#Owl Answers on the Sideblog#Calamity Crew AU#sorry it took me so long to answer your question!#I just keep getting overwhelmed by not having motivation to do much of anything that I don’t have to do#like making art#or typing long things#so that’s why this took a few days#plus I’m not used to getting asks on my sideblog so I forgot about this ask for like a day
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a (not so) “short” headcanon about Dirk and Dave and their different scars
(ngl at first this was going to be short... but apparently this is my destiny every time I try to translate my thoughts)
⚠ CW(s): brief mentions of suicide attempt, self-harm, self-destructive behaviors, and child abuse (non-sexual) ⚠
------
Recently (...well, not so much...) on twitter I talked about how much I love (and at the same time it's pure torture) giving small details to Dave and Dirk's skin (spots, freckles, acne, scars). I love it because I feel like they look kinda sexy that way and it matches a lot of headcanons I have about Dave and Dirk's childhood... but it tortures me because every new drawing I have to remember to put every detail in its right place
Dave is especially hard to draw at times due the large number of scars I imagine he has. His childhood was full of fighting (training) against Bro, and I don't picture Bro as a particularly careful person when it comes to sword fighting. Let's consider Dirk's sometimes intense/obsessive nature, and mix it with Cal's negative mental influence, and yeah he's the worst choice for determining proper limits when fighting a child. The apartment where they both lived was not a very safe place either. As we saw at the beginning of Homestuck, the area was full of sharp weapons stacked (often in unexpected places, tending to collapse easily).
However, I can't imagine Bro putting Dave in mortal danger. I think he was careful enough not to inflict life-threatening/fatal wounds, but was also aggressive enough to sometimes inflict superficial wounds on him. The goal was not to incapacitate, torture, or kill Dave, but rather to teach him how cruel and aggressive the battlefield could be, and to teach him to be prepared for anything, including pain.
With this I'm not trying to justify what Bro did, I'm just analyzing a bit his way of seeing his own actions. The way he raised Dave was horrible and totally counts as child abuse. What's more, one of the things I always find surprising is how Bro managed to prevent Dave's training/injuries from drawing the attention of the neighbors or Dave's school teachers... I guess it was a combination of rehearsed lies, intimidation and/or bribery.
But well... concluding: Dave's skin is full of quite noticeable long scars, randomly distributed throughout the upper, middle, and lower part of his body. I tend to change some between ideas, sometimes because I forget them or sometimes because I'm thinking of some AU... but I always try to be constant in the ones on the face: two on the nose, three on the right side of the face and three on the left side (between his eye and jaw), and one on his lip (left side)
(btw, important fact to mention: although in my headcanon Dave has a certain kind of albinism, this is not full and it mainly affects his hair and (kinda) his eyes. His skin is very light and somewhat delicate, but doesn't have the exact color or behavior of a skin with complete albinism. I didn't try to be full accurate in these details)
Now, by comparison, Dirk is "easier" to draw, at least if I only consider the scars. Although Dirk's childhood was full of more dangerous confrontations (killer drones), he had the help of his robots and he's also incredibly good at sword fighting (in my headcanon, better than Dave). His scars from drone fights are relatively few and vary between cut scars and bullet scars, not too prominent (also, I imagine his skin less delicate than Dave's skin, having a more efficient healing regarding wounds)
However there are 2 groups of scars that I like to highlight when drawing him: a long scar that goes all the way around his neck, and many small scars on his hands.
The scar I draw on Dirk's neck is from a wound prior to his first decapitation in the webcomic. I still can't decide if it was the result of Dirk trying to hang himself or trying to cut his own throat... but it's definitely from a (failed) suicide attempt.
I imagine this event happened a few years before the first time he is featured in the webcomic, so maybe it happened when Dirk was 12-13 years old. I like to think that all of this was very much tied to Hal's existence/birth (either as a "cause" or as a "consequence"), but I haven't fully decided on the details.
Although sometimes I want to draw obvious self-harm scars on Dirk, I admit that the subject makes me a bit uncomfortable (drawing it myself, I have no problem seeing it in other people's drawings), especially when the scars follow a certain pattern / organization in the skin. So I don't think I'll do it in the future. However, I like to think that some of his scars are "self-inflicted" in a more indirect and random way. Maybe by hitting things in moments of negative emotions/anger, doing especially intense and long fights against his robots, or almost suicidally starting a fight against a drone. All situations where Dirk would normally follow a strategy or be more careful / know the limits of his body... but he decides to ignore all this and just indulge in pure self-destructive actions. I imagine that some scars are more directly self-inflicted, in moments of extreme dissociation while handling sharp objects, perhaps grabbing them directly at the cutting edge.
This is part of the explanation for the scars on his hands. Although part of them are due to minor accidents while he was building robots, many of them were caused during times of heightened emotions, depression, anger, or extreme dissociation. Dirk started wearing gloves to protect his hands from further damage (and later, to avoid questions about it).
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Brickclub 4.5.2 - 4.5.6
I am speedrunning through about 100 pages trying to get caught up, so for these next few chapters I’m going to point to @everyonewasabird‘s excellent writeups, which I really can’t top, and just point out a few additional things.
4.5.2, “Cosette’s Fears”
Hat tip to David Bellos’s Barricades presentation for clarifying that, despite almost every English translator trying to make it something else, the instrument on which Cosette accompanies herself is a harmonium.
4.5.3, “Enhanced by Touissant’s Commentaries”
For fanfic purposes I’ve been trying to figure out the exact layout of the house at the Rue Plumet, and I think the house, possibly together with arrangement of walls, may cut the front garden off completely from the back courtyard where Valjean’s Shame Hut is. I base this almost entirely off this line:
“Touissant,” Cosette went on, “you are careful to bar the shutters properly at night, on the garden side at least, and to make sure those little iron things are inserted into those little rings for pinning them?”
If you can walk around the house without going through it it doesn’t make much sense to take less care about the rear windows.
Touissant specifies that she closes the windows “as if this were a prison”--the first of several prison references in the next couple of chapters.
She goes on to frighten Cosette with talk about cutthroats murdering them in their beds, which Hugo calls an “improvised melodrama.” How is theater always such a negative metaphor in this book?
(And, AGAIN, Marius is tied to the murder of women. I say again, if he had stabbed Cosette and himself, we could not say it was not amply foreshadowed. I don’t entirely know what Hugo is doing with that.)
The stone on the bench, under which Marius has left his letter, looms large in Cosette’s dreams: “All night long she saw that stone, as big as a mountain and full of holes.” I don’t know if there’s intended to be a parallel, but I was reminded of this stone in 4.7.1, the beginning of the Argot digression: “Is the underside of civilization any less important than the upper side, for being deeper and darker? Do we really know the mountain when we do not know the cavern?” There’s an idea of wholeness there.
4.5.4, “A Heart Beneath a Stone”
Marius writes
The future belongs much more to hearts than to minds. Loving, that is the only thing that can occupy and fill eternity. The infinite requires the inexhaustible.
And then, two entries later
God can add nothing to the happiness of those who love, other than to give them everlastingness. After a lifetime of love--an eternity of love: that is indeed an increase. But to increase in its actual intensity the ineffable bliss that love already imparts to the soul in this world is impossible, even to God. God is the plenitude of heaven. Love is the plenitude of man.
We’re still in the happy part of the journal, written before Marius follows Cosette home and Valjean cuts off all contact, but already he’s drawing a line from something very close to “Love, the future is thine” to equating love with death. My note on the lines two entries after Cosette’s disappearance--the one about lying side by side in the tomb just touching each other’s fingers for eternity--is “That escalated quickly,” but actually no, no it didn’t.
And yet--there’s something very real in that idea that the only thing that makes love better is more time. More time is the only thing Valjean wanted with Cosette--and she very much wants that too! But neither he nor Marius seems to get the difference between a living and changing love and stasis. Stasis is death, and they can both see that and it doesn’t put them off.
What a glorious thing, to be loved! And more glorious yet, to love! The heart becomes heroic through passion, so that it consists only of what is pure, and is founded only on what is elevated and noble. An unworthy though can no more be conceived by it than a nettle can spring up out of a glacier.
Bird remarks that in this section, which goes on in this vein for a while, Marius is making a mistake about nettles that we’ve been cautioned about. But I think he’s also making the mistake about glory and heroism that he’s been making since we met him.
I am trying to think of what the implied être libre is here--when he was talking about literal heroism, freedom was coupled with love. (My mother is the Republic.) Here he’s talking about love--for Cosette, who is also the Republic--but there isn’t much that you could call free about Marius’s or Valjean’s love for her: to lose Cosette’s love, for both of them, is death, very literally and very quickly.
4.5.5, “Cosette After the Letter”
Our second prison image in two chapters, and it’s a doozy: “This celestial blessing, this intervention by the angels, was that ball of bread tossed by one thief to another over the roofs of La Force prison, from the Cour Charlemagne into the Lion’s Den.” So Valjean has gone from being the guard dog to being literally compared with a prison guard, well done Valjean.
Also, Cosette’s heart is the Lion’s Den in this metaphor; lions = revolution, consistently.
4.5.6, “Old Folk are Designed to Be Out at the Right Time
Also for fanfic purposes: Touissant’s kitchen looks out on the back yard, which suggests it’s on the ground floor and not in a cellar.
Marius shows up looking like a literal skull-faced phantom, and Cosette is into that.
“You see, you’re my angel! Let me come here occasionally. I think I’m going to die. If you only knew!” -- big “Let me sleep here, until I die here” energy. Marius and Grantaire have been foils throughout this book in ways I never noticed before, but it’s becoming more explicit--and Grantaire will make it even more so in “Preliminary Gaieties” when he talks of Marius’s spectral love, which is also his own.
...seriously do read Bird’s writeups; they’re very good.
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Camping is intense
I was going to post this yesterday but I ended up not feeling too hot, so here is Day 1 of the horror writing prompts to try to get better in this genre.
Prompt #1: A family is on a camping trip. The parents are walking with their two children, a daughter and a son. The little boy trips and falls into a dark river. His father jumps to rescue him. Somehow the boy manages to swim to the surface. The father is nowhere to be found. When the mother gets a hold of the boy, she can’t recognize him. She tries holding him, but the moment she touches his wet body, her hands start burning.
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"Look there, honey! It's the front entrance to the park!" My husband, Eli, exclaimed. We are driving in my "mom mobile", what my kids call it, to what is supposed to be the best family vacation yet. Yellowstone National Park. Amazing views, wildlife, and a place where humans are deemed insignificant by nature. I wasn't too thrilled that we would be staying outdoors in flimsy tents, but once can't just tell him no.
We drove up to the gate and the park ranger leaned out of his booth. "Staying or visiting?"
"Staying two nights." You could tell Eli was excited, he nearly screamed at the poor man.
"How many?"
"Two adults and two children."
"Camping?"
"Yes." Eli beamed.
"That will be $40." The park ranger held out his hand as my husband passed over our credit card. "Two rules of the park for your safety." The park ranger handed our card back and pointed to the large lettering on the wooden sign posted on the wall. "Number one, leave the animals alone, they will not hesitate to kill you. And number two, stay away from the river."
"Is the river going to kill us too?" Alyssa, my daughter, squeaked from the backseat. Her eyes were wide with fear, she was never an outdoorsy kid to say the least.
"It could if you're not careful." The park ranger waved us through the gate and watched our car disappear over the hill.
We followed the signs down the dirt road pointing towards the camp site. The land here was untouched, you could tell that nature was in her element. There was no animals in sight, but I could feel their eyes as we passed the trees. Eli pulled into a clearing after the last sign indicated that we had made it. No one else was here.
"You'd think with spring break that we would have more company." Eli chuckled, unbothered by us being alone. He parked the car and we all piled out. I stretched and took a deep breath. It was fresh, unlike back in the city.
Alyssa and Hank, my youngest, began to help their dad take things out of the trunk and scattered everything through the clearing. You can't get mad at children for wanting to help, but I know that if I were my mother, it would all be in a neat pile after some good old fashion stares.
The sun started to angle itself in west and we finally had everything put together. One giant tent with extra rooms, the cooking utensils in a small pile next to a make shift fire pit, and our sleeping bags all lined up. Eli and Hank were looking around the clearing for some kindling, and Alyssa stuck by my side.
"Not much here to start a fire with," Eli piped up. "Let's all take a walk and explore a little bit while we pick up some wood."
Alyssa shot a look of fear towards me, the words of the park ranger must still be echoing through her mind. I smiled to try to put her at ease, but she furrowed her brow in annoyance. I knew that she didn't want to go, but I also knew that Eli wasn't going to let us stay behind.
We all trudged through the woods together, avoiding anything prickly or anything with red veins on the leaves. Chamomile lotion will only get you so far. Eli had our wagon in one hand, and Hank's in the other as they loaded up wood to take back.
The stillness of the forest was unsettling, you could hear the movements of it's inhabitants, but you could never see them. I was not one for being watched. Alyssa gripped my hand tighter. The beauty of it, on the other hand, was other worldly. Green leaves of spring and fresh buds blooming on them created a sight of peace, though I still couldn't quite put my finger on why I was still so put off.
The sounds of a rushing river filled the air as we ventured on. The scent of water cascading over the rocks filled my lungs. Reminded me of when the rain hits the concrete on a hot day. I could see Eli and Hank disappear behind some trees, their excited voices still letting me know that they were ok.
The voices turned from excitement into horror. I heard my husband shout, "HANK!" Before I could register what happened, I heard my son's scream of terror stop suddenly. My heart sank and I ran.
"Where? Where is he?" I caught up to Eli, breathless with Alyssa still in tow.
"He-He went under," Eli had already begun taking all his valuables out of his pockets. "He slipped. I don't know where. I'm going in!"
"Wait!"
It was too late. Eli dove into the river after Hank. I stood in absolute fear.
"It's going to kill them." Alyssa said, faintly. Shock was over coming her as well. We never planned to have to teach our children from a young age about the horrors of life and death, well not yet at least.
I turned to her and held her shoulders. "You stay right here. Do not move. Do you understand?"
She nodded, her face white as a ghost.
I turned and slid down the hill to the river bank, searching frantically for either my son, or my husband. Neither had surfaced yet.
The mud was thick and slowed down my steps as I tried to make it down the river a little bit, when suddenly, I could see my son's head.
"HANK!" I screamed, throwing branches his way. "Grab on!"
Hank pushed himself towards the branch that I was holding, his little head bobbing up and down as the river tried to pull him under again. His small hands grasped onto the branch. I pulled as hard as I could. After what felt like a fleeting moment, I managed to get him to shore.
I looked back towards the river for Eli, but I still saw no sign of him. I knew that I couldn't leave my son dripping wet on the river bank, but I also knew that my husband was in good shape to get himself out, even if it's further down. I focused my attention back to Hank and knelt to hold him.
My hands started to burn when they touched his sides. I recoiled and stared at him, that's when I noticed it. His face was not the cute pudgy baby boy that I knew, it was twisted in a face that I did not recognize.
"Hank!" I tried to grab his arms again, but the same sensation hit my hands.
"Mother," a dark, deep voice came from my son's mouth. "You have been selected as his new bride."
I fell backwards onto the muddy river bank.
"He has taken care of your… obligations." It continued. I could see that Hank's eyes were pitch black. I turned to look for Alyssa at the top of the hill, but she wasn't there.
"Alyssa!!" I shouted for her. There was no response. Looking back at what used to be my son, I could feel my heart speed up.
"He has taken care of them."
My back was against a large rock, I was too scared to look away.
"Come." The voice grew louder.
I could feel myself beginning to cry, hot tears streaked down my cheeks. The fear wallowing up inside me held my throat shut. I was frozen in that moment.
"Do not keep me waiting." A cold wet hand covered my mouth. I screamed but no sounds made it out. This voice did not come from my son, it was behind me. I was being pulled towards the river. I struggled and threw punches out at random, but I was still being dragged. I clawed at the earth beneath me until I felt my legs submerge. I turned towards the hand and looked to see what was claiming my life.
"Eli?" I choked. His eyes were black and his body was waterlogged. My eyes widened as I tried to take a deep breath, one last scream that may get someone's attention, but the cold water filled my lungs instead.
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Fragments of a Cybernetic Mind: Chapter 9 - Daddy Issues
Summary
Half a year has passed since the events of Christmas of 2064. The world is slowly adjusting to sentient ROMs. But Turing is distracted from their task as ROM-kind’s leader and ambassador by another obligation they carry. They want to deliver Leon Dekker’s last words to his daughter. But first, they’ll have to find her, which doesn’t prove easy. They ask their journalist friend for help, who seems less than thrilled.
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8
Chapter 10 (final) Epilogue
cn: family problems, bigotry
Turing spends the next weeks combing through the memory data, but without any success. Any leads they find just terminate in dead ends as the data becomes eaten up by glitches, corruptions or the memories just cut off at the wrong point. What they do find in new information - mostly more insight on Sarah - doesn’t lead anywhere substantive either, not even when they cross-reference the mesh.
I asked Lexi to keep her eyes and ears open, since she is meddling with extra-legal activity as part of her job. She finds some people claiming to have contact to military androids who are willing to do dirty deeds for the right pay, but it all seems very dubious. The same results from Crow’s side.
I continue searching the mesh for mentions of Dekker and other combat androids, reading my way through accounts of violent crimes attributed to them. For some reason, it doesn’t trigger my trauma as much as even the happiest of Dekker’s memories did.
None of this gives us any information on Dekker’s family. It’s like his entire existence has been scrubbed of the mesh, and the world at large, which seems a particularly cruel fate for him. If it weren’t for my own pride, I would consider talking to Flores again.
At least my writing is going well. My editor has been sending me notes the last weeks, and together we give the text the last polish. I’m particularly proud of the chapter describing the events in Parallax’ server room, though I still have to think of a good pseudonym for Dekker. While most of what Flores said left me bitter, I do agree with her that his full name doesn’t need to be known, especially now that we might involve his daughter. So far all I got is his name with some letters shuffled around.
It's one of the last days of summer, though the heat is not any less intense for it, burning down on the market street and making the air flimmer. That’s Neo San Francisco for you. Turing, Lexi and I fled inside the Hassy bar, where we ordered some of Ramona’s newest creations: the Iced Hassy Hot Cup.
We are surprised to see Chad and Oli here as well, who are enjoying one of the last days of their summer break before it’s back to school. Oli is having a deep conversation with Ramona about a new VR drama, while Chad leans cooly against the counter and pretends he doesn’t care, though he keeps chiming in with opinions on one particular character he seems to identify with a lot.
“Hey, no loitering!” Lexi calls over to him as a joke.
“What?” Chad yells. “What are you, a cop?”
“Chad...” Oli puts a hand on his arm. “That’s the lady who arrested us for spraying graffiti in November.”
Chad flinches back.
“Relax, I haven’t worn the badge for months now,” Lexi says, leaning back against the cushioned seat with her Hassy.
“Oh, yeah,” Chad says. “So you can’t do nuthin’ to us. We could trash the whole place, and you couldn’t stop us!” He climbs on the nearest empty table, garnering looks.
“I could,” Ramona interjects. “And I will.”
“Chad, please don’t get us banned from this place,” Oli pleads. “I like it here. And I like Ramona.”
“Fine, I’ll not trash this place,” Chad gives in. “But not because I’m scared or anything. I just like hanging out here. You don’t piss where you drink.”
“Especially because after this performance, I’m not letting you use the restroom,” Ramona says.
“Come off that table, Starfucker, and sit with us,” I call up to the boy.
“Hey, you called me it.” Chad grins and jumps off the table that starts dangerously teetering. “Oli, you haven’t called me it in ages.”
“Do you sign like that on your college applications as well?” Oli asks as he walks over to our table, rolling his eyes.
“For the art schools, yes.”
“Wait, I thought your dad was against art school?” Oli says.
“Yeah, he wants me to go to law school, so I can do the HR’s work in court,” Chad explains. “Which sounds boring as fuck.”
“I’d love to see you face off against Jess,” I say. “That would end in a cat fight.”
“The only way you should ever be in court is as a defendant,” Lexi notes.
“I’m sending out applications to art schools anyway,” Chad says. “And even if Dad won’t support me, I know Mom’s got my back.”
“Wait, I thought you weren’t in contact anymore?” Oli asks. “After the whole, uh, gene splicing thing?”
Chad looks embarrassed. “She, erm, actually reached out to me last month. So we met up. Kept it secret from Dad, he wouldn’t understand.”
Oli’s face lights up with a wide smile. “Chad, that’s amazing!”
“No big deal. We just talked,” he scoffs. “Caught up a bit. I was never really into the HR stuff anyways.”
“That’s sweet,” Ramona says. “I can’t believe your father would separate a family over some bigoted ideas about purity. That’s straight up evil.”
“I am very happy for you, Starfucker,” Turing says.
“Yeah, yeah, we’re all happy for me.” Chad blushes, brushing his hand over his face in a way that makes it look like he’s trying to punch the tears out of his eyes. “Anyways, we talked a bit about my plans for the future. And Mom said she supports my decisions, and that she’d pay for art school. Said that’s what parents are for, after all.”
There’s a loud crashing sound as this time, a table does fall over, drinks flying through the air and to the floor. Oli has to dodge out of the way.
“Damn it, I just cleaned there!” Ramona cries out. “And it’s my shift as well! The ROM’s on break.”
“We are so sorry,” Turing says. “We will help you clean up.”
“Hey, is everything okay?” Lexi asks me.
I’m staring ahead, my mind racing. Then I turn to Lexi: “Can you get us access to Fairlight’s finance accounts?”
“What?” She looks at me in confusion. “Did your drink have too much caffeine?”
“Did you figure out a way to track Fairlight?” Turing wants to know, their face a question mark.
“But some of the brightest minds in the country already looked through everything he left behind,” Lexi explains. “And they didn’t find anything. TOMCAT included. Besides, the accounts are all frozen.”
“They weren’t looking for this,” I say. “And it’s not Fairlight I am trying to find. So can you give me access or do I have to ask TOMCAT?”
“I can try to call in a few favors,” Lexi says, still confused.
“What did you find out?” Turing asks.
“It’s what Chad said,” I explain. “A good parent secures their child’s future, even if they might not be able to be there for them.”
#my writing#fanfic#read only memories#2064rom#2064 read only memories#leon dekker#alys#turing webber#lexi rivers#ramona rogers#chad “starfucker” mulberry#oliver meadows#fragments of a cybernetic mind
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broken reverie.
a/n: he’s not wearing glasses in this one.
word count: 3.9k
genre: smut, nsfw, college AU
warnings: taboo rs, slapping, spanking, choking, face fucking, brat taming (kind of), slight degradation, creampie, age gap (nanami reaching 40)
pairing: professor!nanami x f!reader
summary: professor nanami calls you to his office to ‘talk’ about your terrible performance in his class.
maybe you went too far.
or else you wouldn’t have ended up in his office.
but is this the outcome you coveted? yes.
the door creaks behind you before it closes again as you sit and wait in front of the big wooden desk. you were kind of excited when he told you to come and see him at his office earlier but now you’re having a whirlwind of emotions making your stomach churn and you don’t dare to look around to face him– even though he’s going to be sitting in front of you in a moment.
his shoes clack against the floor as he strides and sits on his chair. the air in the room feels dense when the male doesn’t say anything; as if you’re not in his presence to begin with.
he looks exasperated. a long, deep breath is emitted through his nostrils as he loosens up his tie from the collar. you only gawk at him in awe as he does so, but quickly snap out when he finally shifts his gaze at you.
“so, are you going to tell me what’s going on?” he finally breaks the silence. the deep, husky tone of his voice fills your ear and you hope he doesn’t notice your thighs press against each other almost immediately.
“tell you.. what?” you mentally slap yourself. you’re clearly aware of what he’s insinuating but you’re suddenly lost for words. there’s a huge difference between seeing him in class and being alone together with him. it’s even more nerve wrecking than you imagined and oh god, is his ac broken? because it suddenly feels hot.
nanami raises a brow, evidently unamused. “i had the courtesy to make time for you when i should be having brunch now so i don’t appreciate you playing coy.”
you gulp audibly, “i’m sorry, sir.”
“if it’s not clear to you yet, i’m talking about your grades.” he opens the drawer under his desk and pulls out a pile of paper before slamming it in front of you. you blink in surprise and flip through the pages, though you know you don’t need to see it when you already know what lies on them. there are a lot of red circles on the papers, namely yours, with huge unpleasant numbers on the corner ranging from 12% to 25%.
then he takes out another file which you realize as your student record throughout your semester and the subjects you currently take.
“i find it odd that you scored well for your other courses.” he skims through the pages. “you certainly didn’t cheat, i can tell.”
“no, of course not.”
“then, what’s the problem here?” his tired eyes bore into you as he waits for you to answer or come up with whatever excuse.
“well, i–”
“you’re doing it on purpose.” he snaps.
it’s as if time comes to a stop. your cheeks heat up with humiliation and you can’t bring yourself to continue to look at him in the eyes. although you’re aware that your silence means compliance, you’re still jumbling up words in your head to deny his assumption.
“are you going to tell me i’m wrong?”
“yes– i-i mean–” you stammer.
“then enlighten me.” he glances at the branded watch donned on his left wrist. “we have time.”
you shake your head, “i have another class soon.”
“skip it.” he quickly retorts. “i’m sure you have no problems with that. your grades are doing well for that one, but certainly not mine.”
sweat starts to form on your palms as you look down on your thighs, purposely avoiding his eyes that hold nothing but so much intensity. you’re weighing between two options; to keep on bluffing or come clean. you don’t think that nanami would let you get off the hook if you keep on lying and you’d definitely be bombarded with more questions, yet the outcome of the latter would be so embarrassing and you don’t know if you can live it down for the rest of the semester.
you’ve fantasized about being alone with him but.. not particularly this way.
gathering courage and taking a deep breath, you decide it’s best to just tell him the truth.
“you’re right,” you feel your ears burning, hands clammy. “i purposely failed your class.”
lifting up your head, you see the male grinning lopsidedly in his seat. maybe he’s pleased that you’re not wasting his time anymore, you’re not sure, he’s not easy to read.
“wasn’t that easy?” he folds his arms in front of his chest. “i have my own speculation but i wanna hear why you did it.”
“um,” you look down to your hands again, also half wondering what kind of bold assumption he has in mind. “i was dared by my friend.”
“wrong,” he scoffs. “and look at me while you’re talking.”
you sigh defeatedly and nervously fix your gaze. if you’ve learned one thing now, it’s that your professor doesn’t have tolerance for bullshit and he knows one when he hears one.
“i-i did it for.. attention.”
“my attention?” he emphasizes, maintaining his stoic persona to mask his amusement of finding out that his speculation turns out to be indeed true.
you purse your lips in a thin line, nodding your head quietly. nanami remains to stare at you as he ponders in silence. you can hear your heart beating rapidly in your ears and you want to break eye contact so badly but you’re certain it wouldn’t be wise.
“all that, just for a crumb of my attention?” he spits with a hint of venom in his voice. “are you happy with what you did?”
well, you’ve imagined him punishing you on his desk, fuck you raw or spank you with his belt until your ass turns red– not some serious interrogation.
“no, sir.”
nanami props his elbows on the table, hands clasped under his chin to keep his head up. the air around him becomes even more threatening but it somehow manages you to feel even more aroused, making your toes curl in your shoes. you definitely need to get out soon.
“you know, if i have even one student failing my class, i could get into trouble and be questioned for my performance.” he starts. “to have you doing that for your own selfish incentive is unacceptable, don’t you think?”
“i’m sorry.” you mumble with meek.
“besides that, you might have to retake this course again for your next semester and it’ll waste your time– or..?”
you stay silent to let him continue.
“or you were intending to be in my class again so you can see me?”
“y-yes.” you bashfully admit after one silent moment, knowing that lying will take you nowhere. “i’m sorry, sir.”
nanami chuckles, finding your naivety to be rather entertaining. never has he ever met a student like you, outwardly expressing their interest in him by failing their paper. he’s not too sure what you’re trying to get out of him but maybe he can put one and one together. it’s pretty common that younger women have an attraction to older men like him and your classmates are.. well, not exactly the best looking either.
“are you?” he smirks cynically. “do you have any idea how many students i have to monitor? how tiring my job can be?”
“yes. it was inconsiderate of me. i’m sor–”
“show me.” nanami cuts you off and leans back on his chair. maybe he can push you a little bit, he thinks. you owe him this anyway.
you blink, perplexed. “what?”
“you kept saying sorry.” he undoes two of the buttons on his blue dress shirt and spreads his legs apart. “talk is cheap. show me.”
you do a double take as he taps his thigh and waits for you to come over. you have the faintest idea of what he’s implying but your body freezes and your brain short-circuits as if paralyzed.
“you chose to lie again? you’re not really sorry, are you?”
“no, no! that’s not it. i just..”
an ongoing battle takes place in your mind– sure that this is a part of your deepest, darkest fantasy yet you’re just baffled over how quick nanami catches on to it. now that your debaucherous dream has become a vivid reality, you don’t know which is the right step to take.
“but if not now, when?” a soft voice in your head whispers. if desire could embody a voice, you think this is it. gentle, yet seductive as if it attempts to give you a push to pluck and have a taste of the forbidden fruit.
“how much longer do you have to touch yourself to the thoughts of your professor before you go to bed?”
“although this could be a one time thing, at least you’d know how it feels like.”
you slowly get up from your seat and make your way towards him. nanami’s eyes trail up at you, down to the floor then back up at you; gesturing you to get on your knees.
you settle between his thick thighs and look up at him timidly through your lashes before you bring your hands to undo his belt.
“no hands.” he quickly demands.
you lick your lips as you figure the structure of the belt and how you’re going to take it off without the aid of your hands. the taste of cold metal and leather instantly invades your palate as you feebly use your teeth to tug the front loop of his belt. your head shifts awkwardly side to side until you finally get to catch the buckle between your teeth, pulling it hard before the belt soon unfastens.
nanami only observes you indifferently from above, yet the large tent in front of you doesn’t conceal the excitement he currently possesses.
you take a deep breath before you continue on succeeding your quest. you twist your neck as you find and tug on the fabric loop that holds the button.
“i know you’re a smart girl.” he praises as he rests his hand on top of your head while you struggle to lift up the zipper with your tongue and grasp it between your teeth. the simple praise inflates your confidence and you become more eager to complete your task so you can claim your awaiting prize.
with valiantness, you finally lock eyes with him as you pull down his zipper completely to reveal the huge bulge pressing against the fabric of his briefs and the tip slightly poking out from the top.
“hm? you still have to take it out, no?” he smirks as he notices you gape at the outline of his cock.
you quickly pull yourself together and lean back up to the stretchy band on his waist. he hisses when he feels your tongue purposely graze against the flushed tip before you pull down the briefs by force to reveal the one thing you’ve been desiring for so long.
you press your thighs together as a dull ache forms in your core from the sight of his thick cock standing proudly in front of you. it’s nothing like you’ve ever imagined– it’s better and you’ve finally found it worth going through all that trouble of failing his class (and using your mouth to take off his pants).
“this is what you want, isn’t it?” he sneers, titling up your chin with his fingers, brushing your lips with his thumb and pulling the bottom lip apart so he can see a row of teeth.
“y-yes, sir.” you gulp and breathe as you wait for his next command.
nanami’s lips tug into a conceited smirk, “suck.”
leaning down your head to the base, you flatten your tongue underneath the shaft and slowly drag upwards in favor of reveling the veins on his hard cock. nanami lets out a sigh of content when he feels your tongue licking his tip and his hand tugs on your locks by reflex. you look at him as you wrap your lips around the tip, slobbering the tip with your saliva and his precum.
“fuck.” he curses under his breath and his head falls back when the warmth of your mouth finally engulfs his throbbing cock as you take most of the length inside your mouth.
you hollow your cheeks together, head bobbing up and down as you struggle to take more of his cock that you nearly choke whenever the tip hits the back of your throat, but the hand on top of your head grabs a fistful of your hair and he pushes your head down to sink all his length inside your mouth deeper. when you want to pull away, he only holds you in place and remains his cock down your throat.
“through your nose.” he mutters. tears start to well in your eyes while your saliva just trickles down to his balls as he screws his eyes shut and relishes in the pleasure that washes throughout his body. “i needed this so bad, you know?”
your whines only give him more stimulation and his hips jerk in response, “just wouldn’t think that a student– fuck– out of all people would choke on my dick.” he lets out a sardonic chuckle as if something just crossed his mind. “it’s wrong, but that’s what makes it feel so good, isn’t it?”
nanami keeps you in the position as he ruts his hips slowly into your throat. his eyes are closed in concentration and his lips part slightly in fast and short pants. you work on your gag reflex as you let him fuck your mouth, enduring the sharp sting on your scalp when he tugs your hair harder– at least you know you’re making him feel good.
“if i cum in your mouth, you’d gladly swallow, won’t you?”
you can feel his cock twitching when you let out a choke of assent from your throat but you splutter as soon as nanami abruptly pulls away his cock because of a sudden knock on the door that startles the both of you.
“get under the desk.” he urges and you quickly crawl to hide while he coughs and inches closer to his desk. “come in.”
you hear the door open followed by echoes of footsteps before it comes to a halt in front of his desk.
“didn’t i tell you to contact me before seeing me?” his voice is laced with irritation yet collected as he speaks. you can imagine the agitated look on his face, thinking it would be only natural for anyone to assume that he’s already having a bad day. and to them, interrupting the peak of his orgasm is most definitely not it.
without a second thought, you take back his dick inside your mouth. a spur of triumph swells in your chest when you feel his body jolts in surprise. you think it’s only fair since he has choked you with his cock and what perfect timing to carry out your petty vengeance when the man is busy advising his student.
however, nanami shifts on his seat to give you more access to take more length of his cock. he tries to stay composed as he feels your tongue gliding up and down his shaft but once the wet muscle prods against the slit, he emits an oddly sharp exhale. you can hear him almost stammering as he speaks and the way his tone changes to conceal the squelching sounds you elicit from underneath the table as you please his cock with zeal.
“so, i want you to fix the mistake and hmm..,” his hands ball into fists on the table as he takes a deep breath. “show me in class tomorrow.”
“sure. uh, are you okay, sir?” you hear the voice say. “you don’t look well.”
his eye twitches when your tongue wraps around his balls, taking one inside your mouth to suck harshly.
“yeah, fine.” he clears his throat. “thanks for asking.”
nanami only watches as his student turns to walk towards the door until the door closes behind him. once he’s sure that the student has left the door, he finally leans back on his chair in relief.
“fuck.” he groans, glancing down at you as you look up at him innocently with doe eyes and your swollen lips wrapped prettily around his balls. yet, he looks dissatisfied more than anything.
nanami grabs your arm and drags you out from under his desk until you’re on your feet, “i never took you as a fucking brat.” he lifts up your skirt and bites back a groan once he sees the damp patch on your panties. “did you touch yourself?”
you hum a ‘mhm’, feigning guiltlessness as he grazes his fingers on your inner thighs.
“you’re just asking for me to touch you here, hm?” shivers run up your spine when his thumb ghosts over your wet slit and up to your clit.
“y-yes.” your breath hitches.
“begging for me to push your head on the table and ram my cock inside you?” he muses, pressing on your clit as he watches you squirm. “is that what you want?”
“please–” you roll your hips slightly to soothe the ache on his thumb but a hand comes down harshly on your ass, gesturing for you to stop in a fierce manner.
nanami chuckles mockingly, “well, that’s what exactly you’re not going to get.”
a whine elicits from your lips when he draws back his hands to his thighs and you glance at his dick; still throbbing and leaking precum from the florid tip. well, at least he hasn’t put it back inside his pants, so you still have a chance.
“come on. you haven’t shown me how much you’re sorry.”
with your inhibitions already flew out of the window, you stand in between his thighs, hoist the skirt to your waist and tug your panties to the side before squatting down to smear your slick on his dick. sparks of arousal swim through you as you grind your clit on the tip before you sink down, gasping as his thick cock stretches your cunt and down until you’re filled to the brim.
you glance at the male expectantly, waiting for him to move but he raises a questioning brow at you, “if you want something, work for it.”
not exactly what you sought for, but it should suffice. you begin to gyrate your hips slowly, adjusting to his size before you can pick up the pace. you fight the urge to hold onto him for leverage, in fear he wouldn’t appreciate the crumple on his expensive dress shirt later.
as you become more delirious, you start to hump his cock vigorously, whining like a bitch in heat as you feel every vein and ridges on his cock brushing deliciously against your walls. nanami lifts the hem of your shirt and brings it up to your mouth and you quickly catch it between your teeth.
“the door isn’t locked, you know.” he muses, staring at your bouncing tits with half lidded eyes; mesmerized and thick with lust. “what’s going to happen if someone comes in and sees you bouncing on her professor’s cock like a little whore?”
a low, guttural sound rips from his throat when he feels your walls clenching around him in response.
“you’d like that, don’t you?” he smirks, tugging your bra down slightly and brushes his thumb against the erected nipple, making you mewl through the fabric in your mouth.
“you know you’re not supposed to do this but,” he brings up his thumb to caress your cheek. “you’re just so eager to please me, aren’t you?”
you sniffle in response, hands clutching on his solid thighs as you melt into his soft gaze before it’s gone in an instant.
“but i don’t like brats.” he sneers, drawing his hand away to slap your breast. “i don’t like people making my job harder. are you a brat?”
you shake your head, he slaps again.
“you act like one. stop lying.”
nanami tugs down the shirt from your mouth, a part of the fabric already drenched with your drool. his large hand circles around your throat while the other grips your hip firmly to roll your hip even faster on his dick.
“oh– feels good–!” you moan wantonly, eyes rolling back as you let him control your body and assert his dominance over you.
“fuck it does.” he presses your throat tighter on the sides, restricting air from entering your lungs but your walls squeeze harder in retaliation.
“bratty little bitch. clamping down on me like that.” he grits out and slaps across your face. what seems to be a rather harsh form of treatment, the pleasure filled sting and the lack of oxygen only fuel your arousal that you don’t even notice the way you hump on his cock has become more rapturous.
“getting off to this?” nanami slaps your other cheek before he lets go of his grip around your neck and you’re finally able to breathe air again. yet, he doesn’t spare you time to gather yourself before he promptly lifts up your hips and starts to pound inside your cunt relentlessly.
the position causes you to tip to the front and you immediately hold on to him; face burying on the crook of his neck while his cologne fills your senses and sends you into a state of frenzy.
“you like me using your tight cunt like that?” nanami grabs your ass for leverage, the angle allows him to fuck you so deep that you’re able to feel his cockhead kissing your cervix with each thrust.
“y-yes–!” you cry, the pressure in your stomach building up as you inch closer to an orgasm.
“like it when i use you to take out my frustrations?” he spanks the meaty flesh; walls clenching tighter on his fat cock and more slick dripping down his balls. “you just want to be my little cocksleeve, don’t you?”
“yesyesyes– please–!” your body starts to tremble above him. “w-wanna cum–”
“then fucking cum.” nanami rams into your cunny faster, abusing the spongy walls until the pressure snaps and tips you over the edge. you moan breathlessly into his neck, while your pussy gushes and creams around his cock.
“that’s a good girl,” he fucks you through your high, grunting and panting as he pushes through the pulsing walls in order to chase his high. “and good girls get rewarded, right?”
you hum in agreement, still dazed and swimming in ecstasy as you gawk at him with heavy lidded eyes; the sweat glistening his forehead and sharp eyes focusing on where your bodies join.
“then you’re gonna get some huge load in this pretty pussy.” his pace begins to stutter, nails digging deeper into your skin before his cock twitches and his hips freeze as he paints your insides white with cum.
both exhausted bodies rest against each other, chests heaving as you and nanami take time to regain composure and come down from your highs. he lifts you up slightly to take out his spent cock and he tugs back your panties in place, not minding the cum that dribbles from your quivering hole.
your legs tremble once you get off of him that you have to force yourself to find your footing as you fix your skirt while the older male pulls back his pants in place.
“do your best for your next papers, no more of that bullshit.” he fastens his buttons and straightens his tie before raising his hands to brush against his sleek, light brown hair that’s mixed with a few strands of grey. “but if you have any problems, just come and see me in my office.”
nanami falls quiet for a brief second to contemplate and you straighten your back when you once again meet his icy gaze, “after hours.”
enjoyed this piece? wanna buy me coffee? :)
duskamethyst © 2020 • do not modify, translate or repost anywhere.
#nanami kento#kento nanami#nanami#nanami x you#nanami x y/n#nanami x reader#nanami smut#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#nanami fanfic#jjk fanfic#r; writes#tw; age gap
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original idea, m | kth
pairing(s): taehyung x reader
summary: Your boyfriend, Kim Taehyung, is observant. He noticed you started your period today and picked up your favorite can of sweet Thai tea on his way back from visiting his best friend Park Jimin. How nice of him until he asks you mid-gulp if he can go in raw.
warnings: rated M (18+) for language; unprotected period sex, do not do this unless you absolutely trust the other person; established relationship; low-key crack; lots of fluff; shower smut (fem reader is on her period, handjob, unprotected, wall sex, creampie, doggy); non-idol!BTS, ft Jimin putting ideas in Taehyung's head, who would have guessed
--
“You started your period today.”
You cracked open the can of Thai tea you boyfriend handed you. “Yeah, how’d you know?”
“I saw the pad wrapper in the trash.”
“Oh.”
You took a large sip, thinking the conversation was over.
“Does that mean I can go in raw?”
You nearly spit out the entire contents of your mouth. Instead, you choked and swallowed hard, coughing and sputtering. “What?”
Kim Taehyung expression didn’t change. “Does that mean I can go in–?”
You held up your hand, coughing wildly, hacking the words out. “I heard what you said, I just can’t believe you said it, who the fuck?”
Taehyung seemed to understand and nodded, dark brown hair falling over his forehead.
“Oh, right. I was talking to Jimin and he mentioned–”
Oh, of course, how could you not guess, Taehyung’s best friend Park Jimin was putting ideas in Taehyungie’s little noggin and now murdering you as you struggled to breathe.
“–that it could be possible, because you’re right, it’s too early to have kids and having a monetary plan to prepare is a better idea–”
You were glad that Taehyung was interested in finances when it came to having children but he sure picked a weird ass time to agree with your sensibilities.
“–but I love having sex with you, so I was telling Jimin I haven’t been in raw yet and I completely understand that you prefer condoms over hormones since that might affect your mental state and I don’t like the idea of only you doing something like that to yourself anyway, it doesn’t seem fair–”
You were still processing the fact that Taehyung had told Jimin he hadn’t been in raw. What the fuck?! At least he loved having sex with you. You were staring at Taehyung slack-jawed, but he was scrunching up his face, trying to remember the rest of the conversation.
“–and Jimin mentioned, ‘hey, at least you can do it when she’s on her period, it’ll add more lubrication and it might even be better for her,’ so I was wondering if we could try it, if you’re interested.”
Silence.
You still hadn’t picked your jaw off the floor.
Taehyung opened his eyes and smiled at you. “Hm? What do you think?”
Okay, you very much enjoyed Taehyung’s eager, boxy smile, so that unfroze you, but you still blurted out your next question in sheer shock.
“Why did you tell Jimin you’ve never been in raw?!”
He blinked, tilting his head. “It just came up.”
You looked around, expecting Jimin to pop out and tell you you’ve been pranked. He did not.
“…. H-How…? Actually, don’t tell me, I’m going choose ignorance…” you mumbled, now taking another long sip of your Thai tea, but more like a swig and wishing it was forty-percent alcohol.
“But what do you think though?” Taehyung persisted, leaning down with his tilted head to try and catch your eye. “Do you wanna try? It might be nice!”
You looked down.
Someone was thinking about it for sure.
You looked back up.
Taehyung smiled at you innocently with a massive tent in his pants.
You stared into those big brown eyes and sighed.
“Ah… probably not. It’s going to be so messy and dirty and cleaning up is going to be such a bitch… I’m sorry, Tae, but I don’t think…”
-
“So…”
You stood under the showerhead, your hair wet and sticking to your forehead.
“So.”
Hey, in your defense, you were also curious.
Taehyung chewed on his lip, watching you inquiringly. “Hey, we don’t have to. I was being kinda pushy… but…”
You scratched your head, moving your wet hair out of your eyes. “Ah, it’s okay, I understand, I just… it feels wrong, you know? Aren’t you grossed out?”
He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Mmm, at first? But the more I think about it, the more I think, well, isn’t it natural? And you have to deal with it every month for many, many years, right? Plus, when we have children, they’re going to come out of you slightly, erm…” He made a little bit of a face but shook his head, spraying water everywhere from his dark wet hair. “Anyway, it’s not too bad. We’re in the shower. You like it when we do stuff in the shower,” Taehyung added brightly.
You contained your laughter, giving him a hopeless smile. “Why are you acting so weird?”
Now Taehyung turned red, his deep tan skin flushing, eyes shifting from side to side. “Um…”
You tilted your head.
He shot you a quick glance and mumbled under his breath.
“Idon’tknowhowlongI’mgonnalastIalreadydon’tlastthatlong.”
“What?”
He chewed on his lip.
“Nothing.”
“Oh.”
You reached up and pushed your hair back, swimsuit-supermodel style, and now Taehyung was doing more than glancing, he was observing very closely and very intently under wet strands of dark brown hair, curling around his strong features and moody brown eyes, his lips parting slightly, probably unnoticed on his part.
Looking like a fish wasn’t exactly an image Taehyung himself considered sexy.
Secretly, you enjoyed it because it meant he wasn’t conscious of what he looked like and was too distracted by your actions and your body to do so.
You smiled. “Why were you talking to Jimin about something like that anyway?”
Taehyung stiffened as you neared, biting his lip. “Ah, well…” He frowned slightly. “You’re so good at certain… things… It’s kind of frustrating for me… sometimes. I want to be better.”
Now you hesitated. “What are you talking about? Haven’t I taught you a lot of things? And you learn quickly and are amazing once you get the hang of it.”
His lips twisted into a small pout.
“For once, I’d like to teach you something.” He let out a small puff. “Or at least suggest something you’ve never heard of before.”
You blinked at him.
“Er… going in raw isn’t exactly a new concept… rather… that’s the original idea of dick and pussy in the first place…”
Taehyung scrunched up his face. “I know that, argh… I just mean… ah…” He trailed off, baritone voice now unsure and unsteady.
You saw he was rapidly losing confidence and you placed a hand on his chin, lightly lifting it with your knuckle. “Hey, no, I didn’t mean it like that. I want to try it. I just thought you wouldn’t like it, because… I mean… Period blood isn’t sexy per se… And I’m certainly not sexy during that time of the month…” You frowned uneasily, lowering your hand, but now Taehyung raised your chin, smiling at you.
“Don’t be silly. You’re always sexy.”
He leaned in, smile morphing into a smirk.
“Also, your boobs get bigger during that time of month, so I always appreciate that.”
Your eyes widened. “You noticed?”
Taehyung raised an eyebrow. “Of course, I noticed. I keep close tabs on your boobs.”
“Close tabs? Do you record the size in a notebook or something?”
He chuckled, tapping his temple with his free hand, the other sliding down your chin, tracing the contours of your neck and collarbones. “Mental notes. I remember all the important stuff. Your boobs are on the top of the list.”
Your cut in with your inquiring quips. “My ass? My mouth? My hands? My pussy?”
Taehyung frowned slightly and placed his large hand on your breast, kneading it as if he needed comfort. “Okay, near the top, but don’t make me order them, it’s too difficult.”
You grinned. “That makes me feel better.”
He breathed out in relief. “Whew, that’s good–mphf!”
You seized the moment and pushed him into the wall, pressing your wet body into his, your tongue snaking out and lightly flicking against his lips, taking advantage of his surprise and the beauty of his widened eyes to kiss him firmly, falling into his warmth. It took him a second to compose himself, tipping his head down to take charge of the kiss, squeezing your breast and running his thumb over your hard nipple, but you placed your palms flat on the shower wall and resisted him, dancing your tongue between his lips and not letting him catch it, smirking at the growl he made in frustration.
“We were having a moment,” he muttered.
“Mmm, I know, but I want my moment with him.”
Your fingers ghosted his thigh and he sucked in a breath as your hand closed around his cock, not quite hard yet but getting there, especially after your hand came into contact with it. You feathered kisses on his lips as you stroked his length, nice and slow, his other hand coming up to cup both breasts, panting softly, hot breath on your lips.
“You’re too quick…”
“Can’t waste too much water,” you chuckled. “And…”
You kissed up his jaw, adjusting your body to get a better angle, licking his skin lightly and feeling the vibration and depth of his moan under your tongue and lips, whispering gently into his ear.
“It’s kind of hard to focus when you’re so handsome, Tae.”
He let you have the moment, tipping his head down so your teeth could catch his ear, nipping at it lightly, contrasting with the pace of your hand, firm and intense, shivering at the thickness and the weight in your palm, savoring the taste of his skin, moaning into his ear, long and sensual, everything he liked and more, his head turning, black-brown eyes looking down at you under lashes covered in small droplets, adding to his already ethereal appearance.
“Let me…”
He leaned in, not finishing his sentence, kissing you long and deep and sweet, changing your positions, but you didn’t let go, toying with his tongue. He made a small tch sound of annoyance, shifting his hips, picking up one of your legs.
“Ah, w-wait…”
“Why?” he chuckled. “You don’t wanna wait. I can tell.”
You tried to hide the smirk, but it came out.
Smugness just refused to be hidden.
Taehyung grinned against your lips. “Thought so.”
Your hand was already guiding him. “This isn’t going to be the optimal position for you to cum.”
“Good.”
You raised an eyebrow and he thrust up into your pussy.
You sucked in a breath, relaxing yet still stretched out. It did hurt slightly. Taehyung was sizable after all, in length and girth, but you had practice and muscle memory, and maybe (definitely) a pain kink.
What? It was fun getting stuffed with dick.
Especially when it was Taehyung’s dick.
You? You were fine.
Taehyung?
“Oh, fuck…!”
Er, maybe not?
He had such a cocky expression beforehand but the second he entered you, it instantly changed, sudden tension in his strong features, gasping as he slid in, surprisingly much easier than you expected, perhaps due to the consistency of the slippery blood, almost stopping halfway, but you didn’t let him, firmly grabbing his hips and yanking him towards you, his eyes rolling back, whining your name loudly, the volume and depth reverberating in the bathroom.
“You’re so t-tight… fuck… soft… oh, shit…”
You let him run through every expletive he knew, holding him firmly by his juicy ass, enjoying it too much, but thankfully Taehyung didn’t notice, eyes closed, head thrown back, dark wet hair curling around his cheekbones. He reached up and pushed it away from his face, exhaling hard, slowly opening his eyes, hazy and unfocused.
“Fuck… it feels so fucking good, you have no idea…” he shuddered, twitching inside you and moaning once more, body shaking so he had to plant his hands on the walls of the shower, volume increasing as you pulsed your muscles around his length. There was slight pain from cramps, but not from his cock, and you could ignore the dull ache and focus on the pleasure, slowly moving your hips and biting your lip, feeling the added slickness of your juices mixing with the blood.
You often cursed your period’s arrival, but maybe it was time to reconsider.
Always good to find the silver lining in things.
“Taehyung…”
You rolled your hips and he gasped, thrusting back lightly.
“Don’t wanna hurt you,” he panted, swallowing hard. “Shit, it feels so fucking good, I can’t t-think…”
“I’ll tell you if it hurts,” you managed to say, pressing your hands into his ass and angling yourself to take him deeper, shoulder blades and head touching the shower wall, sighing in satisfaction.
“Alright, I’m gonna…”
He clenched his jaw, faster, harder, one hand coming down to grab a handful of your ass, you wrapping a leg around his and meeting him in the middle, increasing the depth of each thrust, both of you gasping at the tightness and the wetness, the messy slap and squelch echoing in the bathroom, water raining down on his broad back and spraying onto your chest, clenching around him so he could feel more, his eyelids fluttering, biting his lower lip, tendons on his neck popping out, and you realized he was trying not to cum, trying to hold back, so you gave his stiff length a particularly firm squeeze and Taehyung groaned, barely able to shoot you an incredulous look.
You grinned.
“I’m gonna cum, fuck!”
You felt it, his cock twitching and spilling into you, eyes widening at the sensation, not quite as strong as porn seemed to make it, but noticeable for sure, pushing out your juices in a rough sputter, loud and obscene, flinching as Taehyung’s hand quickly moved down, rubbing your clit, making you squirm and twist of his cock, almost falling off but he kept his other hand on your ass, digging his nails into the softness, holding you in place.
“Come on, come on, come on–”
It didn’t take much, you were already turned on by the fucking and then the sensation of being filled up, and you cried out, trying not to move your hips, the high peaking.
“Tae, fuck!”
Hot shivers and burning electricity tearing through your veins, jerking your hips forward and tightening around his cock, harsh throbs racking your body you came, pussy squeezing so hard that you felt his cock stiffen again, swelling and growing inside you as your orgasm roughly roused him back to life, both of you moaning at the sensation, feeling his cum and yours drip down your thigh, hearing it plop thickly onto the bathtub below and wash away, stunning both you and him at the lewd noise.
“Whoa…”
You panted hard, letting out a tense puff as he slid out of you.
“That felt… so fucking good…”
You thought for a moment, catching your breath. The pain your felt was only from cramps, although it seemed to be less now. Was that the ibuprofen? Or the euphoria of orgasm? You paused on consider the differences, chewing on your lip thoughtfully.
“I think for me it’s about the same? You feel very similar with and without a condom.”
Taehyung shook his head. “Not for me, you feel way better, I don’t know how I can go back, the condom is seriously a nerf…” he mumbled.
You shifted your eyes. “You didn’t last… the longest.”
His ears turned red.
“W… Well…”
“My pussy is pretty overpowered, maybe she needs the nerf.”
He sighed, frowning. “True… I still stand by the fact that it physically feels better, but more time to enjoy does even it out…”
You tapped your fist in your other palm. “Oh! Let’s do it from behind.”
He blinked. “Eh?”
But you were already turning around, Taehyung stumbling back, pushing the showerhead out of the way and pointing it towards the wall so he didn’t drown, audibly gasping as you bent over and presented your ass, hands spreading open your pussy with one fluid motion. You turned your head back and grinned.
“Yes?”
“Oh, fuck, yes.”
You felt him position the head against your opening and he pushed in, slow, steady, both you of moaning at the feeling, centimeter by centimeter, this position tighter, more heavenly, giving you added control over your muscles so you could pulsate around him. He inhaled sharply, gripping your hips and forcefully pushing in the rest of the way, bottoming out, balls smacking your clit.
“Stop t-that, fuck…”
You let go of your ass and placed one hand on the edge of the bathtub and the other on the wall.
Then you rocked your hips back.
“Ah, yes, Tae…”
“Are you trying to kill me? Oh, shit!”
You continued and Taehyung had no choice, fiercely grabbing your hips to try and get you to stop, but you were undeterred, so he had to ram his cock into you, exactly what you wanted, the sudden sensation of the head hitting you deeply rendering your speechless, and he had no time to gloat, too driven by lust and pleasure to taunt you even if he wanted to.
“A-ah, it’s good like this too, oh, fuuuck, yes, you always feel so fucking tight…”
He had a good rhythm and pace like this, deep, controlled, fast, making sure to give you the powerful thrusts you liked, loud, audible smacks of hips to ass, rough and wet, and you knew you had his cum inside you now along with yours and the added slickness of your period, and, sure, maybe someone found it gross, but in this second (and lucky all subsequent seconds involving this very behavior that would certainly continue at least once a month) you nor Taehyung gave a single fucking shit, pleasure flaring up your core, the dull ache of cramps forgotten, completely focused on the feeling of his cock entering you over and over, your hand on the wall curling into a fist, hitched breaths and flinching shivers taking over, clenching around him, oh fuck, his rock-hard, thick length plunging into your tight, wet hole, too much, so good, your thighs tensing from the overwhelming proximity of release.
“Taehyung, oh, fuck, you’re so good at f-fucking me…”
You could tell he wasn’t talking on purpose, probably clenching his jaw to last as long as possible, but he wasn’t going to last much longer because you smacked your palm into the tile wall, gasping his name loudly, shot into free-fall.
“Gonna cum, fuck!”
That was all the warning he got as your walls spasmed, brutally massaging his cock and he hissed your name, turning into a half-moan, half-whine as he yanked your hips down and slammed into your pussy, fully sheathing himself all the way up to his balls, his cock jolting and spilling his orgasm into you, his hands on your ass shaking so bad they seemed to be vibrating, gripping tighter and tighter, rolling his hips inside you and moaning, prolonging the euphoric feeling.
“S-So good… ah, yeeeeeees…”
It took him a while to still, breathing loud and hard, holding you in the bent over position, the additional time getting slightly awkward, but you waited it out, his grip finally loosening, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you up, your pussy too wet and his cock giving up, sliding out, a mess of juices splattering out of you.
Good thing you were in the shower. Easy to clean up.
“It’s… too good…” Taehyung huffed, broad shoulder leaning against the wall to hold himself up, still clinging onto you. “Your pussy does need a nerf, but, fuck, I’m still gonna think about it all the time…”
“Good thing for you that my period lasts at least five days.”
Taehyung looked up to the sky and whispered his gratitude.
“I know you kind of hate it, but I’m still going to thank them.”
“Maybe I have a reason to hate it a little less now. It’s still inconvenient.”
“Yeah, but going in raw…”
Mmm, yeah, that still sounded weird. Oh well.
“You’re not going to tell Jimin, right?”
-
“You let him go in raw?!”
“Taehyung!”
--
masterpost
#taehyung x reader#taehyung smut#bts smut#taehyung x you#taehyung fluff#kim taehyung smut#kim taehyung x reader#kim taehyung x you
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luna… thinking about dry jumping again… rio!shoyo, all bronze and thick and humping against you through your panties because he can’t be assed to take your clothes off. thinking about how good his blush looks against that newly tanned skin hhh he’s so broad and thick i wanna cum on his thigh <3
oh my fucking god— i’m having a shitty night but THIS shook me out my stupor <3
warnings: 18+, dry humping with hinata, missionary humping, clothed humping, pretty boy hinata with a slight potty mouth <3
quick translations: Meu bem —> my darling // Obrigado —> Thank you
He’s so gorgeous, it’s unfair. It’s downright.
He doesn’t have to try too hard before he’s getting himself worked up over you. Seeing your smile, the clothes you wear, hell, being in your presence alone is enough to get Hinata going.
One thing you’ve learned to accommodate for your boyfriend is his never ending supply of energy. His coach can put him through the absolute ringer and Hinata will still find a way to get his second wind of energy before officially calling it a night. It’s ridiculous!
He came to your apartment one evening, fresh out of training and buzzing with energy. Even as the sun hangs very low in the sky and the rest of Rio de Janeiro begins to slow down for the night, Hinata is just getting started. After leaving his shoes and duffel bag by the door, the next thing he does is to kiss you. Filled with small laughs and heartwarming embraces just to let the other person know how much they missed them. But from Hinata’s approach today, you knew better to assume there was anything other than naughty thoughts swirling his mind
You giggle when his hands squeeze your ass already, unable to stop his cheeky exploring when they slip under the large t-shirt you’re wearing and grip the fat of your ass. “Baby, you just got home,” you whisper breathily.
“Missed you all day sweet girl,” is his only excuse he offers you, already guiding both of your bodies towards the couch you two often take residence to when the bedroom is no longer an option. “Missed you so much, I just gotta have you again. Is that okay with you?”
Fuck him for being so charming.
By the time you’re all laid out underneath up, shirt pushed up just a little bit over your fupa, Hinata is already hard. He climbs over you without second thought, lips finding yours again while he can’t help but to thrust his boner right against your clothed pussy.
He does it again and again and again until the movement finds its own rhythm. The sounds of two different fabrics rubbing against each other makes you even hornier, forcing yourself to look up at your golden boyfriend as he works himself through this one. He doesn’t even think to move your panties to the side nor shove his shorts down, all he can focus on is the warmth your pussy is bringing him at this moment.
Through the layers of clothing, you can feel the girth of your boyfriend’s cock the more he uses it to split your lips open and drag it between. You couldn’t help but to lift your legs and wrap them around his sturdy waist, already addicted to the sensation his dick was giving you sans penetration. (Even though that would be the perfect cherry on top after all of this.)
“Fuck, that feels so good,” he moans through a laugh, light brown eyes staring directly into yours. His hair flops on either side of his head, framing his face perfectly so you can see the hardness of his face when he tenses up his entire body. The intense light from the sunset only adds to his god-like features. Bringing out the beautiful tan Hinata’s worked so hard to maintain, darkened freckles popping out a bit down his strong arms and base of his neck.
“Been wanting you all fucking day, meu bem,” he confesses, pushing his hips harder against yours when his orgasm begins to approach. The thought of cumming in his own shorts doesn’t seem to faze him at all. Once upon a time, he would’ve at least made the effort to make his orgasm as euphoric of an experience as possible. Compared to now, Hinata just loves having you here to help him get through that state. Even if it was a simple blowjob in the middle of the day when the sun is hitting his tanning form a little too perfectly or when he can’t help but to rut against your pussy like a perverted dog, Hinata will take any and every excuse to cum anywhere as long as you’re the cause of it.
“Yeah?” You whimper, already looping your arms around his neck to pull him down towards your flushed body. Hinata moans louder when he can feel your breast press against his chest.
He only nods in response, moreso focused on peppering kisses all along the exposed skin of your neck. Face buried in the warm space but the heat is the least of his worries when he can feel himself about to bust soon.
Without looking, he reaches somewhere above you to snatch one of the decorative pillows and shove it underneath your hips. This gives him even better access to your cunt, and an improved position to work with.
He’s a goner then, thrusting into you sporadically until the pressure of it all is too much for his cock to handle. He cums immediately in his shorts, the wetness seeping through layers of fabric until you fucking feel it against the front of your panties. This prompts your own orgasm, hips shaking beneath him as he carries you both into your orgasms.
He doesn’t stop rutting into you even after he’s done. They’re much slower and softer now, and both of you twitch when it gently rubs against your overstimulated clit. His smile is genuine when he finally lifts his head up from your neck, face properly flushed. “I needed that so bad, obrigado princesa.”
He’ll kiss you over and over, happily living in the aftershocks of your orgasms until you’re making him remove off of your body with a huff. He stares at the wet patch of your underwear, unable to stop the snort that leaves his lips. “Let’s get cleaned up, hm?”
Don’t be surprised if Hinata is already is half hard by the time you two step in the shower and he’s asking you for another round~
#rio hinata — !!#hinata smut#hinata x reader#hinata x reader smut#haikyuu smut#➷｡˚ — mailbox#i want this irl so bad#god when is it my turn#CLOVER GETS ME BRUH LIKE#ITS CRAZY#bc bestie knows i rock with dry humping CONSISTNELY#AND HINATA IS SO MMM DELICIOUS
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“How To Keep Your Gremlin Warm 101”
NSFW! Scaracoochie x Male reader
POV You are the gentle giant and your lover Scaramouche? Is the angy little gremlin. Also, winter has come and the heater doesn’t exist in this world. The only thing keeping you guys warm is the fireplace but it doesn’t seem………….enough. So you proposed an idea
Warning: Cock warming, size kink, blowjob, dirty talk
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1st POV
Welcome to our cuddling sesh. Except it is cold as a winter’s butt cheeks. Heater? Non existent. Fireplace? Up and going but it doesn’t seem to be doing it’s job. Blankets are thick yet the cold somehow still manages to pass through and attempt to turn us into popsicles. I refuse to turn into a frozen Anna plus I’m horny.
Seeing the slim male desperately clinging onto me, shaking in his boots. I thought of an idea. Cock warming. If you don’t know what cock warming is. It is an act of a man putting their erection into his partner's vajayjay/ass in order to keep warm.
Gathering courage and confidence. I said, “You know, love…I know an idea on a way to keep us warm…”
He huffs followed by a shiver, replying back with an attitude.
“Oh yeah? How? Even I can’t think of one. What can you think of huh? Brawn for brains”
Ignoring his rudeness. I gave him a shit earring grin.
“You know. My junior is cold and I’m sure it’ll become a nice water bottle inside you, keeping us both warm. Since I’m the one generating the most heat here.”
He became a furious red, scowling at me before facing his body in the opposite way, screeching.
“SHUT THE FUCK UP, YOU HORN DOG!!”
He didn’t deny. Plus his ass is rubbing against my abdomen. I known him for quite a while now. 5 years; give or take. Translation: Fine, do it but I don’t wanna seem desperate.
2nd POV
“Why won't you face me, when I'm talking to you?” Your husky voice spoke into his ear as the harbinger felt a pair of arms press against the bed on either side of him, trapping him. Scaramouche gasped and shuddered in shock.
The navy haired male gulped thickly and averted his eyes, not wanting to stare into yours for too long. He won't admit it, but if he look at your love and lust filled eyes, he might accidentally shove his ass in the air, use his dainty looking hands to spread his mounds of fat apart, showing his cute puckered hole and beg you to breed him. That; or cum prematurely. Which by the way has happened before but you don’t want that to happen. Not right now at least.
Suddenly, he felt a pair of soft lips pressing against his own. Gasping softly, he stared into those intense eyes again and felt himself get lost as he slowly, hesitantly, kissed back. That seemed to please you because You felt hand cup his neck, holding him in place. Sighing softly into the kiss, he relaxed and slowly closed his eyes, enjoying the hot make out session. Taking a break from the steamy session due to a thing called ‘oxygen’, you pressed your forehead against his.
The short male nodded, leaning down to undo the button and unzip your pants by his teeth. You were already slightly hard from the grinding earlier so your throbbing dick made contact with Scara’s face, smacking against his cheek slightly as he made a noise that sounded like a mix between a moan and a grunt, and pressed himself against your member even harder.
Scaramouche stared at your member, almost admiring it. Even though he looked at it before, and although it had felt large in his hand the other night, it looked even bigger now. Quickly switching positions. You undressed him in a flick of a wrist. Now it was you with a face-full of his small erection. Gently licking the underside of your lover’s cock, smiling as his body shuddered with pleasure. You teased him a bit more, peppering kisses up the navy’s shaft, before finally taking his length into your mouth. Moaning out your name, encouraging you to take his length deeper. You thread your fingers together. The harbinger took pleasure in the intimacy he felt from holding hands. Moving the hand on the base of your member to the rhythm that you were sucking him off, and began arching himself into your mouth. Bobbing your head faster, encouraged by his own desperate fervor.
“I-I’m going to cum.” Seconds later, You felt the shorter male’s member pulsate inside your mouth, and tasted a salty yet saccharine liquid fill you. Swallowed slowly.
He could feel you smile as he slid the finger in to the hole and wiggled it around in an attempt to loosen up the tight tunnel. Using your other hand to massage the shorter man's dick, you picked up the pace and hardening the grip.
At this point, it was taking Scaramouche all that he had to hold in further moans, as he felt another finger entering his hole to join the first and begin to move in a scissoring motion.
A shiver runs through his entire body and he can feel the exact moment you find the spot that makes his mind go blank. He can feel his dick leaking on his abdomen, twitching at the stimulation, while everything starts to become too much.
As you heard him say your name, followed by a plea. Who the hell were you to deny your beloved husband anything when you promised to please him in whatever he asked? You ended up rubbing your member with Scaramouche’s, contrasting in size. It was cute. Shrimp vs eggplant.
“Archons. Everything about him is small.” You noted, admiring your husband’s body.
Scaramouche’s cock was leaking and bobbing against his stomach without any touch, and his legs was spread as widely as he could, presenting himself completely for you to greedily devoured his most tender parts, doing him thoroughly with your talented mouth. You hissed.
"Greedy slut. Always ready to put my cock inside you. Maybe that's what your meant to do." Scaramouche agreed silently, you bobbed your head as if life depends on it. You watched your lover squirm, trying to stay still.
Watching the your own pink lips slide up and down his cock, spit glistening from the dim light of the room. You gave special attention to the tip, peals of precum sliding down his small hand.
“You love it when I’m rough don’t you? You want me to overwhelm you and fuck you so hard that you won’t even be able to hear your own voice……You want me to ignore those pretty little pleas for mercy and fuck you. Huh? Damn cock slut.”
The navy haired male moans at the filthy words and seductive tone.He never expected to come out of the fluttershy personified giant when they first had sex. Towering over the shorter male. You moved your member towards his lips, you shoved them into his mouth. Letting it naturally lubricate.
Taking it back out, you lowered yourself, ready to penetrate his cavern. With some rubbing foreplay, you easily slipped inside, moving back and forth at your own pace.
“MORE~! PLEASE!!”
Gradually thrusting harder and faster into the younger man. “Such an impatient brat.” You murmured to yourself as he groaned with Scaramouche, who moaned louder and louder with each thrust into his tight hole.
Slowing down your pumping of Electro user’s sensitive little cock, not wanting him to come so soon as he searched for his sweet spot thrusting deeper and in all angles.
“Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck fuck nghhh ahhh!”
Slamming your hips into his non existent cervix/womb, he screams, blabbering profanities when you found his prostate and prodded it.
“H-Harderrr! More! Ahhh ahh ah! Right there argh! Right there! Don’t stop!”
Your lover screamed out unconsciously, sticking out his tongue as drools escaped from his agape mouth. A knot formed near your abdomen, tightening.
The short male was practically sobbing, tears of pleasure streamed down from his tightly-closed eyes. His wet inner walls spasmed frenziedly, grasping harder and quicker around the pulsating length inside him as he was edging closer to the peak that awaited.
"Aaahn!...Huuhnn!…Haaah! Aaaah!"
After a few more specifically hard strokes right against his pleasure spot,
Scaramouche thrashed against the sheets and with a long, high-pitched scream, he finally came undone with a dry orgasm which was surprising but whatever. Saves you some cleaning cause Scaracoochie just got cream pie. Leaving your dick inside his slippery hole. You guys fell from your high and slept soundly not with a blanket thrown over the both of you to trap the warmth in.
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Alright NE X T. Honestly I should finish up the request first. They’ve been neglected long enough I’m so sorry. Am I completely back? No. But I’ll do my best to write once a while. So if ya like my dirty/comedy writings. Put the notification on ;))
Credit: Unknown
#genshin impact#genshin+impact+x+reader#genshin imagines#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact imagines#genshin scaramouche
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Until It Feels Like You’re In Heaven — Jeon Wonwoo
request: Hello do you still take requests? Your writing is amazingggg!! Thank you for existing 😭💕. Can i req a whipped dom!wonwoo x fem reader where he has a size kink and a smol gf please? I think that will be a cute concept 🥺
tags: fem and sub!reader, dom!wonwoo, size kink, tattoed and pierced jeon wonwoo just because, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex (uh idk why but I never write sex with a condom help), established wonwoo x reader, a tiiiny bit of spitting kink, very light verbal humiliation, aftercare, this goes from fluff to horny really quickly, fluff if you squint (or not?), a frankly unrealistic amount of cum, OH AND, stomach bulge 🥴
a/n: so haha I am back? with more filth? I tried adding fluff (even tho I completely forgot that the person who made the request asked for whipped wonwoo, good thing this is always in my agenda every time I write so I didn't have any problems lmfao) but I'm too much of a horny bitch and a simp for this man so,, idk? tell me what you think later! I hope you all perish— I mean, like this!
Word Count: 7826
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“Aren’t you going to help?” you question, lifting a brow at your boyfriend, who’s currently sitting in one of the chairs and supporting his chin with the palm of his hand, plate of onions that should be already cut laying untouched in front of him.
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“Nope,” Wonwoo answers, giving you that kind of smile which makes you almost, almost feel less annoyed at the fact that you’ve been trying to reach something in the upper shelves for the last five minutes and he doesn’t move his ass to help you at all. “You’re just too cute trying to reach something.”
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There’s heat creeping up your neck, cheeks tinting red, and Wonwoo's smile gets bigger, shining and full of fondness. It leaves you stunned in silence for a while. It’s hard not to be in love with him. But it’s not like you try anyways.
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“J-just hurry up, aren’t you hungry?” you cough, looking away solely because you can’t stand the warmness in Wonwoo’s face without feeling like you’re going to combust any time soon.
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“I am. I can help you out,” he states simply, but doesn’t make a move. You gesticulate with your hand, pointing at him and at the rice jar in the upper shelf. “But only if you say please, though.”
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“I’m—” laughing incredulously, you roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest. “Would you please get the rice jar for me, sir?”
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Wonwoo stares at you for a second too long, eyes a bit dark, and gets up to get the jar, without breaking eye contact. You instinctively make yourself smaller when his bigger and broader frame hovers over you, large enough to swallow your tiny body. The size difference has always been something you both feel incredibly turned on by.
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“So small,” he appreciates, always does, and your neck burns from the intensity of your blushing. “The cutest.”
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Wonwoo puts the rice jar in your hands, the darkness in his face melting into a beam.
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“Here it goes, little girl,” he says, going back to his chair to complete the task which he has been doing for at least ten minutes now. The way he says little girl has you dumbfounded, heart hammering against your chest. “Are you just going to stand there? Do you like being called little that much?”
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“Shut up,” you admonish, blushing furiously as you turn on your back to continue what you were doing. You just hate how everything Wonwoo does affects you so much. You’re sure this must be bad for your health.
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The two of you continue your journey through cooking and eating after you’re both done with the preparations. Things with Wonwoo are always so easy, everything feels natural and domestic and the bubbling feeling of happiness you feel whenever you’re with him lulls you to fall in love with him even deeper than before.
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The way he teases you when you’re clumsy and spill sauce over yourself, but still cleans you up with the most fond smile ever, like you’re so completely adorable he can’t help himself. Or when you put more salt in the food than you should and you know it’s not that good, but he still compliments it and tells you he loves it so much, the sincerity in his eyes makes a surge of something pull at your lower stomach.
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If Jeon Wonwoo isn’t the love of your life, you don’t know who is.
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But right now you just want the ground to eat you alive and swallow you whole, because you’re standing right in front of the bed. The one bed. To which it suddenly doesn’t look big enough, not as you remember.
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Well, it’s not like you have never shared a bed before, you have even had a shit ton of sex in this exact piece of mattress, but the thing is, it’s been a while since you last saw Wonwoo. His job required him to spend three months away, and this is the first time you came to his house ever since he came back two days ago.
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You consider throwing yourself out of the window and into the dark, miserable night, thinks your poor heart will explode otherwise.
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“I’m not going to eat you.” Wonwoo’s voice carries over from the bathroom door, startling you into action. You jerk toward the bed, jumping on it and face flushing. You had showered before him, now dressed with one of his big shirts.
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It fell all the way to your mid thigh, the size difference between the two of you making you almost drown on the fabric of his clothes. It smells nice, smells like Wonwoo, and your cheeks burn when he drinks the sight of you in with dark eyes, not even trying to hide.
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“Unless you want me to,” he adds, not helping your situation at all.
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BSHANDJAJSND?, your brain supplies.
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“Oh my god,” you admonish, yanking the blanket off the bed and just as you get in, your eyes hone in on the ink swirling up Wonwoo’s right biceps. You have seen the tattoo through the pictures he sent you before, the snake crawling up to his shoulder, head stopping at his right chest.
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This is, however, the first time you’ve seen the metal bar through one of Wonwoo’s nipples — to which you already knew the existence of, but looking in person is totally different —, heat winding in the pit of your belly as you realize the snake is looking right at that same nipple. Unfortunately for your poor heart, he’s wearing nothing but a pair of sweats, hanging low on his hips, slim waist on display.
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Wonwoo is… hot.
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There’s no other way to put it despite your best efforts. He looks like one of those Greek statues, rippling muscle and hand carved abs, the cut of his jaw too sharp to be real. Your mouth waters and you can’t look away.
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And Wonwoo has been changing. He always had the thin type of body, being slim and tall, but in the end of last year he started exchanging the lazy hours he spent gaming with animated workouts at the gym — something about the way he was wasting his precious time of life and he could be acquiring knowledge and being healthy instead of sitting in front of a computer for hours —, and holy fuck if the result wasn’t quite the damn view.
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You draw the blanket right up to your chin, back very purposefully to Wonwoo’s side of the bed as you’re still trying to stop the mild heart attack you have going on. You don’t want to see him climbing into bed for safety purposes but that doesn’t mean your heart rate doesn’t spike up when the bed dips. When Wonwoo settles down under the same blanket, your brain very enthusiastically — and meaningfully — points out that you’re only a few centimeters away and that there’s nothing separating you.
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His abs flash behind your eyes and you nearly throw the blanket off, ready to storm out of the room and sleep on the sofa instead. You let out a breath you don’t even know you’re holding when Wonwoo flicks the flight off, the room disappearing into darkness, before he turns on the red leds from under his bed.
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You feel warm all over with the fact that he still remembers you don’t like sleeping in complete darkness.
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You try not to tense too much when he drapes an arm around your waist, locking you in. Your legs tangle together as he adjusts himself better, the other arm coming behind your head to serve as a pillow. Now you’re not only dying from the closeness but as well essentially drooling over the bulge of his thick biceps.
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Congratulations universe for managing to make you even more desperate.
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You’re not sure how long you just lie there, staring out the window, unable to fall asleep. Your brain doesn’t want to shut off, a blaring alarm of Jeon Wonwoo going off in your head.
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“I missed you so much,” Wonwoo says as if he read your thoughts, voice soft and filled with warmth, and you find yourself immediately melting in his arms despite your nervousness. “Thought I was going crazy without you, munchkin.”
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There’s a hard squeeze in your heart. You just love so much when he calls you that.
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“Missed you too,” you admit with a smile, the tip of Wonwoo’s nose dragging through your hair as he inhales the smell of his own shampoo. “Missed your smell.”
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“Just my smell?” Wonwoo teases with a light tone, caressing his free hand on your inner thigh. It was supposed to be a feather-like gesture, but the closeness between the two of you made your body oversensitive, and you find yourself moaning softly as your skin rocks with a shiver.
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Wonwoo tenses immediately when he hears the sound, hand stuttering to a stop. There’s a beat of what you call the most painful silence you ever had — your mind swirls with the thought that you just ruined the mood, face heating up uncontrollably at your own neediness —, before his fingers sink into the flesh of your inner thigh, startling you with the strength behind his grip.
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“Answer me.”
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You whine louder this time, the realization of his change of tone going from fond to an irrevocable order sinking wanton deep within your lower stomach. You try to close your legs, but Wonwoo’s leg stops you where it rests right in the middle of them, dangerously close to your throbbing core. You wonder if he could feel the heat emanating from it.
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“N-no,” you begin, voice already shaken up. Wonwoo’s breath caresses the helix of your ear, making goosebumps surge all over your skin. “Missed y-your bed too.”
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“Is that so?” he hums, chest vibrating where it presses against your back. “What else, munchkin?”
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“Missed—” your voice gets caught up in your throat when he licks your helix, teeth pulling the lobe of your ear. The soft drag of his lips all over that place is making your job difficult. “M-missed all of you, hmmm.”
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Wonwoo hums again, pleased with your answer, and leans so close to you your body gets half pinned to the bed. This way his bigger frame completely engulfs your smaller one, the difference between your sizes getting even more overwhelming now that he’s bulked up.
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And you’re not the only one affected by it, because as soon as Wonwoo realizes how he almost swallows you up in this position, he downright moans right by your ear.
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“So fucking small,” he tells you appreciatevely, voice one octave lower as his fingers presses on your inner thigh harder. “Missed touching you.”
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There’s a shift in Wonwoo, his leg rising up between yours and stopping centimeters away from the heat of your cunt, and you can’t hold back the shiver, wants Wonwoo to press down there. When you attempt to slide Wonwoo’s hand up and off of you so then you could turn around, you’re met with a growl instead, Wonwoo bodily pinning you to the bed.
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“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks, and it makes you feel like you’re a prey just ready to be caught by the big, bad wolf. You whine softly at that thought, hand coming to grab at Wonwoo’s wrist reflexively.
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“Wonwoo,” is your answer, like that would explain everything. Wonwoo chuckles softly, embarrassment burning on your cheeks.
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“When we called and I saw your face,” he says, barely above a whisper. “I wanted to fuck you so bad.”
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Suddenly, you can’t remember how to breathe, Wonwoo’s mouth on your neck, planting a soft kiss just under your ear. He nuzzles into the same spot, kisses lower and your heart shakes loud enough you think the neighbors might hear, hyperaware of every inch of your bodies touching.
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“I know I couldn’t, so I did it all from behind,” Wonwoo admits, sending your mind into a little haze. Of course he has been jerking off to the thought of you, but hearing him say it out loud has your panties getting soaked. “Sticking my dick in…”
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Wonwoo hasn’t stopped nuzzling you, in some kind of daze as he inhales your scent. There’s a hand on your hip now, holding you down, liquid heat pooling in your belly, spreading outward.
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“…and fucking you mercilessly…” he continues, voice getting deeper and rougher with each word, his breath labored. “…and watching you cum endlessly… I thought I would be fine just imagining it.”
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“W-Won—” you start, breathless, the sound of your own voice sounding so airy leaving you embarrassed. But then finally, finally he presses his thigh into your core, your hips immediately going down to rut hard against the muscle.
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“Fucking drenched,” Wonwoo snarls lowly when he feels the wetness of your soaked panties dirtying the fabric of his sweatpants.
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The sound makes you writhe on the bed, fists balling in the mattress.
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“But seeing you, so small…” the trace of Wonwoo’s hand in your skin is light, almost like a gentle whisper as it makes a burning path up, up, up until it stops by your neck, fingers closing softly around your throat. “Makes me want to rail you, carve the shape of my big cock inside your walls.”
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Wonwoo’s teeth sink into the skin just at the base of your neck. It’s hardly a bite, you know he could leave worse, but then Wonwoo laps at it afterwards, tender, surrenders you into moving your hips obscenely on his thigh. The way he says, knows his cock is big has heat licking your insides, and if it were anyone else saying the same thing you would be cringed, but there’s just something special about Jeon Wonwoo doing this that makes him look like the hottest man alive.
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“You’re addicting,” Wonwoo admits with a growl, the feeling of his touch turning possessive as he helps you ride his thigh better by a hand on your waist. “Once I get a taste I can’t stop myself from wanting more. Wanna have my way with you until you’re all mine.”
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Need seeps through your bones, body trembling as you try to scatter the air it has been knocked out of your lungs when Wonwoo fits his cock in the curve of your ass.
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“Y-you’re hard,” you comment, as if it’s not obvious, but it has been so long since the last time you felt his bulge pressing against you that it makes you desperate. “You’re so hard.”
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“Who’s fault do you think it is?” Wonwoo questions, groaning when you sway your hips from side to side on his cock.
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“Can we…” you trail off, hiding your face in the pillow. “Y-you know?”
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“Nope, you gotta be more specific,” he says with a teasing smile, and you smack him in the arm. Wonwoo laughs before his voice gets serious. “Say it.”
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This switch of him turning on and off between a sweet boyfriend to the man who doms you never fails to give you a whiplash.
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“Can we— Can w-we fuck?” you ask shyly, wanting the ground to swallow you whole. You have no idea why you are being this shy.
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“Hmm, it depends,” Wonwoo hums like he’s considering the options. You turn to look at him, mortified, but he only laughs at your indignation. “Are you going to be a good girl for me?”
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You blush furiously at the question, face turning to look away as you mumble a yes, but then Wonwoo’s grabbing at your jaw and yanking your head back in place until you’re staring right in the deepness of his eyes, the intensity of them stunting you into complete silence.
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“Look at me when I’m talking to you,” he orders, leaving no room for arguments, and you nod your head quickly at that. “Out loud.”
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“Y-yes,” you hurry to obey, watching satisfaction curl all over his face. “‘M always a good girl.”
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“I don’t think so, munchkin,” Wonwoo grins, wicked and teasing, and you brace yourself for whatever is going to happen this night. “Sometimes you’re so desperate and impatient you can’t even wait for me before fucking yourself with those plastic toys of yours.”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Wonwoo,” and you’re unable to look away even when shame burns all over your body. “H-how did you—”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“How did I know?” your sentence morphs into a moan when Wonwoo presses his thigh so hard against you cunt it has your body jumping a little. “You think I wouldn’t feel how you’re more loose when I fucked you? You think I don’t notice the way you look at me?”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
Wonwoo is mercilessly dragging your hips up and down his leg, your whines sounding high and sweet in your own ears.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“You’re oblivious even to yourself,” he tells you, tone rough as he ruts against your ass. Your heart lurches in your chest, Wonwoo’s words like a hot coal in the pit of your belly, erupting into flames. You want to squeeze your eyes shut, cunt pulsing with arousal. “Even today, the way you were staring at me…”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
But then, Wonwoo’s touch is gone. His hands leave your hips, thigh frees you from the pressure, and the warmth seems so far now. You turn, complaint already at the tip of your tongue, but Wonwoo’s faster, rougher as he manhandles you on your back and hovers over your body, caging you in with his arms.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“You looked like a prey who has just been caught into the wolf’s den,” he smiles at you, wicked and cruel as he grabs your jaw and pushes your head back. “Like you wanted me to break you in until it feels like you’re in heaven.”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
There’s a breath against your bare neck, his groan hitting your skin when he bites it.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Or eat you up until there’s nothing left in you that doesn’t belong to me,” you’re definitely not expecting the moan that escapes Wonwoo’s mouth, so affected and deep it’s got all the hairs in your nape standing up, every fiber of your body telling you to submit. “Fuck, and it turns me on so much.”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
You make a sound out of neediness, hands reaching for Wonwoo. He goes easily, body pressing into yours as he crashes your lips together. Wonwoo kisses you like he wants to conquer you, licking into the seam of your mouth and teeth scraping at your bottom lip just so he could soothe the pain later with his tongue. Your head spins with the intensity of it, it’s messy and there’s too much spit and teeth, but that only makes it even more addicting.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
But Wonwoo doesn’t kiss you enough today. He almost never does when he’s feeling like that — possessive, mean, wicked even, when he needs you to know your damn place —, wants to ebb the pleasure away when you’re starting to get hotter until it’s replaced by pure desperation and you can’t do anything else other than beg for him to give in to you.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
So that’s what you do, staring up at his eyes trained on you as if you’re a prey.⠀
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Please,” you start, voice caught into a moan when Wonwoo’s fingers sink into your jaw and his mouth falls ajar, like the sound of you saying this particular word gives a physical stroke to his cock. “P-please, fuck me. Wanna— Wanna belong t-to you.”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
And that’s enough. That’s enough, that’s enough, Wonwoo wants, you want, and he’ll give that to you since he has always been a weak man for your begging. There’s a fraction of seconds that he thinks he might pass out with all the blood rushing from his head to his other head, cock throbbing in his sweatpants.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Don’t know how so much eagerness fits into this little body of yours,” Wonwoo murmurs against your mouth, his hand squeezing your face. You find yourself parting your mouth open, whining, pliant and overwhelmed as Wonwoo slips his tongue in again, kissing you filthy. The scent of his familiar cologne is so sharp, surrounding you and leaving your mind dazed until all you can think is Wonwoo, Wonwoo, Wonwoo. When he pulls back this time, Wonwoo pushes his thumb into your mouth, eyes half-lidded as he watches you swirl your tongue around it, sucking it further into your mouth.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
You moan around it, watching Wonwoo’s every reaction, the way his breath hitches, shoulders tensing. There’s a shift on the bed, Wonwoo moving up and up and up and you can’t breathe because now the bulge pressing against the fabric of his clothes is standing proudly right in front of your face, Wonwoo almost straddling your chest. You let the realization that he’s going to fuck your mouth sink deep within your core, and try not to show how deeply affected you are by the idea.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
You fail, of course, hips lifting off of the bed and falling down again, biting around the finger inside of your mouth that keeps you from taking a better look in the place you are dying to see.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“That desperate to suck me off, baby?” Wonwoo asks, and you flush, hate how you love the humiliated burn, how it makes you wetter. You’re too embarrassed to throw something back at Wonwoo, gaze dropping to his erect cock the best you can. He pushes your head back up, making you look at him instead. “Do you wanna see it?”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“I do,” you reply, a little too fast for your own good, and it only serves for Wonwoo to laugh at your neediness. You debate if you’re as red as you think you are, the burn in your cheeks spreading all the way down to your neck.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Are you sure you’re ready for that?” Wonwoo’s tone is almost condescending, still playful, like he doesn’t think you can even handle the sight of his cock, and you like how it makes your cunt twitch and ache. It’s as if you enjoy the belittlement, enjoy the way Wonwoo wants you to prove yourself.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“I’m,” you start, swallowing, “I’m ready.”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
Wonwoo’s smile is a touch dark, nearly a sneer, but his hand leaves your mouth to hook a thumb in the waistband of his pants. You nearly drool. He pulls on the fabric until his cock is free, slapping against your left cheek and smearing precum on your face. Your head spins, realising that even this part of Wonwoo’s body seemed to have grown bigger. Maybe it’s your imagination, haven’t actually seen it in real life for the past three months, but the thickness is intimidating.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
The best intimidating possible.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
Your heart thuds in your chest, unable to look away from his cock. There’s spit collecting on your tongue, embarrassment fighting against your desire to please. Leaning forward, you suckle the tip into your mouth, making a pleased sound when you taste the salty tang of precum.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
Wonwoo leans back a bit, wanting to assess your face better, and the taut lines of his body contorts in an even hotter way with the new position. You moan again, staring at the piercing in Wonwoo’s nipple and the head of the inked snake looking at it, and sucks on the head, tongue pushing along the underside. Your body throbs with your own heated desire.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
You wrap a hand around the base, gut twisting hotly when you realise you can’t even get your fingers all the way around — no matter how many times you notice this, they all make you feel equally needy. And you’re not the only one affected by it, Wonwoo’s hips kicking forward and cock thrusting inside of your mouth, the growl he lets out going straight to your core.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Fuck,” he says, breath audible enough to echo inside the room. “I will ruin you.”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
The confession has your body arching for a few seconds, sucking hard on the tip of Wonwoo’s cock until he’s moaning at the feeling. He takes a fistful of your hair, but you push against the hold so you could take more of it into your mouth.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Quit it,” Wonwoo demands, your displeased whine making his hold grow firmer. “Do as you’re told or you might not get my cock at all tonight.”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
He pulls you off, your pants loud and labored.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Did I make myself clear?”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Yes, sir,” you add just for the teasing — but mostly because you want Wonwoo to punish you for making him lose his beloved control —, feeling pleased as you watch the clear change of expressions going on in Wonwoo’s face. His eyes darken impossibly more, eyebrows frowning and then there’s a hand on your neck.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
Your mouth goes dry as soon as his fingers close around your throat, body writhing and mind going into submission mode.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Filthy little slut,” Wonwoo snarls, face suddenly close, and then he’s spitting into your open mouth and you feel like you will come very soon. You flinch, eyes shutting on reflex, and then moan. “Want me to punish you, don’t you?”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
You don’t say anything, can’t say anything, but you hope the look in your eyes answers his question. It probably does, because there’s a tiny little smirk playing on the edge of Wonwoo’s lips before he kisses you, softer than you could ever imagine he would be in this moment.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“I love you,” he breathes, the sudden confession making a different kind of burn itch your throat. You know very well that when Wonwoo tells you that I’m the middle of sex then it’s because this will be a passionate fucking. One of those that he keeps your body so close you think you might become one with him, one of those he kisses you so gently one moment only to treat you roughly in the other, one of those he wants to make you fall apart, crumble and cry and even so, it will be full of love and care and sweetness. “I love you so much.”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
Wonwoo doesn’t wait for your answer. Doesn’t need to, he knows your heart belongs to him.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Say ah for me, sweetheart,” Wonwoo instructs and you obey, mouth hanging open, tongue out. Wonwoo slaps his cock against it, precum dirtying your tongue as the slap slap slap of his cock hitting your mouth fills the heavy air of the room. He even traces the tip over your upper lip, smearing precum along your cheek when he slaps your face with it before placing his cock right back on your waiting tongue. “Put this mouth to better use.”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
You do, eager to do as you’re told after Wonwoo’s confession, blood singing from his praise and his disparagement alike. You sink down onto it as far as you can take it, nearly gagging when it hits the back of your throat. Wonwoo drowns out a broken “fuck” above you, stroking your cheek and moving further in the bed to lessen the awkward twist of your neck.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“You look so good with my cock in your mouth,” Wonwoo breathes, voice strained as you suck him off, head bobbing. He brushes your hair back, little groans and growls escaping him every time his cock hits the back of your throat, you swallowing around it, or when you speed up, fucking your mouth on Wonwoo’s length. “Such a pretty little cocksucker, aren’t you, sweetheart?”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
You blush, heart hammering in your chest with the compliment, but he closes a fist in your hair and makes you stop all movements.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Gonna fuck your mouth,” Wonwoo starts, holding your wrist with his free hand and putting your fingers above his thigh. You know that it means if you want me to stop, tap twice, and it makes heat coil in your belly. “until you gag.”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
You moan a bit uncontrollably around his cock, legs kicking in the bed at the affirmation, and Wonwoo is staring at you with a look you can’t quite describe. It makes you ashamed of being so eager but at the same time proud of being his little cockslut.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
Wonwoo holds you in place, hips bucking into your mouth. He goes slow at first, wanting you to get used with the feeling because it has been a while since the last time you sucked him off. It is short lived, as soon as you look up at him and nod — the best you could with your movements being kind of restricted —, his thrusts turn sharp and fast, your jaw aching from how long you had Wonwoo’s fat cock in your mouth.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
You moan, one of your hands still working up and down along Wonwoo’s shaft as he fucks into you, tears beginning to prickle at the corners of your eyes. He falls a bit forward when you start gagging a little, throat convulsing around his thickness, and he sprawls his fingers in the wall for support.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Fuck fuck fuck, shit,” Wonwoo breathes, voice gravelly, his grip in your hair getting tighter and tighter. Tingles spark down your spine, wetness pouring out of you and soaking your panties even more and you want so desperately to come, to be fucked, but you want to please him first.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
Wonwoo’s thrusts begin to turn erratic as he fucks your mouth, a growl erupting out of him on a particularly hard thrust, and then he’s pulling away. You look at him, mind in a haze, but still dumbfounded. His breath is labored and he looks like he’s having a hard time keeping together, hips thrusting into the air. It boosts your ego to see him this messed up because of you.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Did so well for me, sweetheart,” Wonwoo tells you, voice strained from effort but still full of fondness, and you feel butterflies dancing in your stomach at the praise. It seems like he wants his orgasm to ebb away. At the look you’re giving him, he adds: “Wanna cum with you.”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
You mewl at the thought, watching him position himself between your legs again and kissing you slowly. Wonwoo caresses your cheek with a gentle thumb, other hand tracing a feather-like path down your body. His fingers brush against your nipple, the whine you let out being swallowed by Wonwoo’s greedy mouth, and he sneaks his hand under your shirt just as his kisses fly to your neck.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
And then Wonwoo’s sucking. Hard.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
It caughts you off guard, hips lifting off of the bed and thigh pressing tightly against Wonwoo’s cock, his groan being muffled by your skin. He bites, suckles and kisses the particular spot underneath your jaw, so far up your neck you won’t be able to hide it, especially because it’s summer. And you feel warm all over, how he always remembers exactly your pleasure point, the place that has your head spinning with pleasure.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
Your hands fly to his hair, cunt throbbing with need when he tongues at the purple hickey, and it’s throbbing, pulsating with how hard he sucked. It leaves you breathless, not having time to recover when Wonwoo pulls your shirt up until he can get one nipple into his mouth.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Wonwon, fuck,” you whimper, body oversensitive with all that has been going on, and Wonwoo growls at the nickname, hand coming to pinch your other nipple like he’s telling you how much this affects him. “Please—”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
Wonwoo bites at it, tongue coming to soothe the pain later, and you’re sure the grip you have on his hair must be painful, but he says nothing; only looks more intent on making you moan. Wonwoo busies himself with sucking hickeys all over the place as one of his hands continues to descend down your body, thumb pressing in a spot by your hips that has your back arching and a desperate whine being pulled out of you.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
Down and down, his fingers then slips inside your penties, brushing across your clit so lightly that it has your whole body rocking with shivers.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
But then, Wonwoo’s body goes completely still. You feel him tensing under your palms, heat already flooding your face when you know he feels it, feels the way you’re already stretched open for him.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“You—” he starts but stops himself, pushing a finger inside for great measure. Wonwoo growls when he meets almost no resistance, face lifting from where it rests on your chest to look at you. “When?”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
The intensity of his voice leaves your mouth dry.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“E-earlier, in the— in the s-shower,” you confess, voice quiet, and you can’t look away, Wonwoo’s eyes pinning you to your spot.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Hah,” he states simply, a sound of pleasant surprise, and adds another finger inside. Wonwoo pushes them to the hilt, until his knuckles brush your pelvis. You moan, head thrown back at the sudden, but welcomed intrusion. “Acting all nervous around me but this is exactly what you wanted, isn’t it?”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
He gyrates his hand, pushing hard and without mercy, right before he adds another finger, this time more slowly. It burns a little, his fingers way bigger than yours, but you love the slight pain.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Did you come into my house knowing I would fuck you?” Wonwoo asks, knows the answers but does it anyway. He moves his hand a little, waiting for your to be more comfortable with the sensation of his fingers, but as soon as your frown turns upside down, Wonwoo has no restrains whatsoever, fucking into you fast and sharp. “Fingered yourself knowing that I would split you open on my big cock?”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
You can’t even think straight, hips rising off of the bed, but Wonwoo holds your waist with his free hand and pins them down hard. Your upper body lifts with this, back arching and legs kicking everywhere as you can’t stop the loud moans slipping through your lips, doesn’t even care about the neighbors as your nails sink into Wonwoo’s back to the point it might leave tiny crescent moons all over it.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Did you come back then?” Wonwoo continues, pace unforgiving even when tears well up into your eyes. He trusts you to use your safeword if needed as much as you trust him to use his. “Did you?”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
You struggle to answer, voice being surrendered to moans and whines and whimpers and it’s hard to focus when he’s hitting your sweet spot with the tip of his fingers.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Ah! Ah, hmmm, f-fuck, please Won— Wonwon,” you try, can’t even understand how you still manage to get red when you realise Wonwoo is looking at you with so much desire. The point you both most like about your relationship is that Wonwoo is the dom, but he knows you have him in the palm of your tiny hands. “I, ah, d-din’t. Di— Didn’t want to, fuck, please— c-come without you—”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
Wonwoo pulls his fingers out at that, your cunt clenching around nothing as he goes lighting fast to take both of your clothes off, grab your waist and flip you on your stomach just as he reaches for the nightstand to grab what you know very well it’s a bottle of lube. He pulls your hips up until you’re face down, ass up on the bed, the hurry in all of this only sending desperation all over your body, and the sound of the cap being opened has butterflies in your stomach.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Yeah? Fuck,” Wonwoo sounds a mess, fingers hurrying to close a fist on his cock and jerk it off furiously to spread the lube better, the wet head nudging against your rim. “Fuck, shit, I wanna fuck you so bad.”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Do it,” you beg. “Please.”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
And who is he to deny what you want?
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
Wonwoo pushes inside you slowly despite his hunger, knows he’s big and there’s an alarming size difference between the both of you.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
Your hands clench into fists and it feels like you’re being impaled onto Wonwoo’s cock, going deeper than any cock you ever taken before. Tears cling to your lashes as a small jolt of pain runs up your spine, the lube easing Wonwoo’s way in. Overall you’re proud of yourself, haven taken him before, more times than you can count, and you accommodate his cock like a pro.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
Your chest heaves, no amount of air feels like enough as Wonwoo’s cock all but punches everything out of you. You’re biting at the pillow by the time the last of it pushes into you, a haze surrounding your mind because it feels so good.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
Wonwoo’s groan transforms into a moan once he’s buried all the way into you, hips flush against your ass and spreading you open so wide and so deep, you would think you might break if you didn’t know any better. You gasp, back arching downward as you take your time to adjust to the large intrusion.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
Wonwoo kisses your shoulder tenderly, waiting for you to grow used to the feeling. He can be rough when it comes to bed, but he always is mindful of you no matter how impatient and desperate he is. There’s this soft feeling going on inside you, mixing with your pleasure and it only serves to make you more needy.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
Wonwoo doesn’t move for a while, hot breath falling against your neck as he stands behind you. You feel surrounded — his scent everywhere, the pulse of the hickeys he carved on your skin, the press of his long fingers on your waist —, your submission for Wonwoo’s eyes only.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
You nod at him.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
A lick at your neck is all the warning you get before Wonwoo pulls out so very slowly, cock dragging against your walls and rim. It feels like forever, you whining at the sensation, and then you’re being slammed back into.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Ah!” you gasp, eyes blurry as you struggle for air. You moan as Wonwoo drags himself back out again, and thrusts right back in and groans at the feeling. “Y-yes—”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“So good,” Wonwoo growls, close to inhumane as he continues with that pace. “So fucking good.”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
Eventually, Wonwoo doesn’t seem to be able to go slow anymore, thrusts turning sharper and harder, his pace unrelenting. You find yourself almost screaming through it, so overwhelmed by the size of him — a good overwhelmed, the best overwhelmed —, but the way you feel so full and the exponential pleasure leaves you numb to any other thought.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
Wonwoo, Wonwoo, Wonwoo, your mind seems to chant, fucked open mercilessly by your boyfriend.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Taking cock like a pro, aren’t you, sweetheart?” Wonwoo says, stops for a second, adjusts his hips, and then slams back right into your sweet spot, like he knows where it is by heart. Your body lurches forward, bed slamming against the wall. Hands reaching to hold onto something, you scramble against the sheats until one of them fists it and the other holds the pillow for dear life. “You’re gonna wake the whole hall, screaming like that.”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
You have enough of a decency to feel ashamed about it, but it’s not like neither of you actually care. If anything, Wonwoo fucks you harder, hips jamming inside you until your throat hurts from all the noises you’re making.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Please, p-please— I wanna— I h-have to— Fuck, ah!” you’re not even sure about what you’re begging for, Wonwoo pulling your hips to meet his thrusts half way. You love this, feeling like a ragdoll, being thrown around and only able to take what he gives to you.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Good little girl,” Wonwoo croons, his voice rough. Your skin glistens with sweat, the shimmering red light reflecting on it. “Looking so beautiful taking my cock.”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
You’re not sure what compels you after he says that but you reach down, hand smoothing down your abdomen because you feel like Wonwoo is spearing you open. But you go completely tense, squeezing Wonwoo so hard he stutters with a moan, because under your palm there is the outline of his cock protruding against your lower belly. The feeling makes you so overwhelmed that you can’t hold it in, whithe pleasure flooding you as you end up coming, eyes rolling to the back of your head and you’re crying all the way through it.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“You’re coming?” Wonwoo deadpans, sounding surprised and angry at the same time. “Holy shit, you’re coming untouched and without my permission? What were you think—”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
Wonwoo’s complaint immediately dies down when you bring a trembling hand to grab his wrist and put his fingers in the cause of your orgasm. There’s a beat of silence, the both of you completely still, and then Wonwoo is growling the most animalistic growl you ever heard him do, the sheer intensity of it rocking all the way to your bones. He presses his hips so tightly into yours it has you sobbing.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Fuck,” it’s all he says, tone two octaves lower and sounding dangerous, doesn’t even have it in him to punish you. “Fuck.”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
It’s like the caged beast he keeps so carefully locked deep within himself started to surface. Wonwoo pushes your head down on the mattress, the other hand still on your belly. He pulls out until the tip and then slams back inside, as hard as he can, and you downright scream at the feeling, the oversensitiviness adding up to your pleasure.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
There’s another few seconds of silence, and then Wonwoo is fucking you brutally. His moans echo through the room, so completely desperate that it has you wailing, sobbing, crying desperate pleas for more.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Look at that,” Wonwoo says, hand pressing harder against the bulge in your stomach. “Pushed my big cock into you until your insides were forced to make room for it.”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
He grabs your arm and yanks you up, your back pressing against his chest and an arm circling around your waist. The other comes up to squeeze your left breast as you practically sit on his thighs. You moan at the feeling of his pierced nipple dragging against your skin every time he fucks up into you, your body only held in place because of the firm grip Wonwoo has on you.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
Sobbing, you feel like you’re losing yourself in the sensations, Wonwoo’s cock pounding into your cunt and his voice by your ear and the burn of his hips hitting your ass — by now it must be all red, the marks probably going to linger for some time. You can’t hold yourself together anymore, mouth open and drooling, tears clinging to your lashes, staccato moans falling from your lips that break on every thrust. You’re limp against Wonwoo, can’t even fuck back, letting him have his way with you.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Drooling all over yourself for my cock,” Wonwoo says, fucks in deep against your sweet spot and mouths at the side of your neck. “Because of me, right? Tell me.”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Y-you— yours, yours, please,” your head falls back on his shoulder, hand pressing tightly in the shape of his cock in your stomach, and at this point you don’t even know what you’re doing anymore.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“I’ve broken you in, fuck.”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
And he did, really. He has broken you in, has you crying on his cock.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“You belong to who?” Wonwoo pressed his hips flush on your ass, grinds hard enough for your body to be sent forward. A short few seconds so you can take a breath — or at least try to. “Hm? Who’s fucking you this good?”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“W-Wonwoo, Wonwon, you, please,” you cry out as he starts to fuck you mercilessly again, the brutal pace punching moans out of you. “Ah, ah, ah, p-please, haaah, I’m y-yours— yours, b-belong to, hmmm, to you only, please!”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Yeah,” Wonwoo echoes, thrusts turning erratic and groans morphing into moans. “Mine.”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“I can’t — I’m g-gonna—”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Come for me.”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
And it’s enough for you. Your muscles tense, toes curling as hot, white pleasure surges through your body and floods you until you fall limp on the bed, hips only up because Wonwoo is holding them tightly. You clench around his cock involuntarily, his groan muffled by your hair and he’s coming, Wonwoo’s cock twitching inside you as thick spurts of come fill you to the brim. They seem to be endless, his spunk filling you up until it’s dripping out and down your thighs.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
You don’t remember much of what happens later. Your mind spins and then you fall into a most needed slumber.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
You wake up a bit disoriented, having no idea how much has passed since you fell asleep, but you realise you’re all cleaned up and dressed, head resting in Wonwoo’s — thankfully, for the sake of your precious pussy — clothed chest as he uses his cellphone. He smells clean too, hair still a little bit wet, and you smile thinking that the shower you both took before going to bed was useless.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“You’re up?” comes Wonwoo’s question when he feels your lips moving against him, placing his phone somewhere on the bed and circling his arms around you. You move your head, looking up at him with fondness.⠀
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Hey, baby,” you breathe out, reaching to peck him in the lips once. He smiles, that kind of smile that leaves you breathless with love.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Hey, my love,” Wonwoo laughs when you blush at the pet name. It’s so sweet and endearing, you always feel warm whenever he says it. “I see you still get all red when I call you that.”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Shut up,” you swat at his arm, Wonwoo’s following laugh sounding like the best music you ever heard. “How much did I sleep?”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Not much,” he presses you tighter against him. “I think one hour? Something like that.”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Thanks for taking care of me,” you say, legs tangling with his and the smile never leaving your lips.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Of course, my love. Always will take care of you,” Wonwoo nuzzles your hair and inhales. “Got kind of surprised that I managed to fuck you into unconsciousness.”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Wonwoo,” you mortify with a laugh, hitting his chest, but he only giggles at you. He giggles. Your heart might explode soon.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“What? Can’t I be happy that I pleasured my tiny girlfriend the way she deserves to?” Wonwoo says, and it sounds like a joke, but when you look up at him again to make a retort, the reverence in his eyes surrenders you speechless.⠀
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
He stares at you with so much admiration and love, like you’re the most beautiful thing ever.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“I love you,” you say instead, cheeks hurting from the way you’re smiling, and Wonwoo seems to be caught off guard because he’s blushing. Wonwoo’s blushing. He’s so cute you want to die.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Shut up and go back to sleep,” he coughs, pushing your head against his chest and you laugh at this shyness. “I love you too.”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
Yes. The warmness of his hands, the beat of his heart, the rise and fall of his chest, the love in his eyes, the sweetness of his words — you missed everything about Jeon Wonwoo.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
#seventeen fanfic#seventeen imagine#seventeen smut#seventeen x reader#wonwoo smut#wonwoo x reader#wonwoo imagines#wonwoo fanfic#wonwoo#svt imagines#jeon wonwoo#jeon wonwoo smut#possessive wonwoo coming to destroy everyone#including me#AGAIN#i'm not sorry for the spitting part#not at all#svt smut#author is very dead#author simps very hard for jeon wonwoo#that should be a tag
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Run Little Red (Namjoon x Reader)
Pairing: Namjoon x Reader
Word Count: 7.8k
Warnings: 18+, Yandere, Werewolf Namjoon, Stalking, Obsession, Forced Relationships, Blood (Lots of it), Gore, Fear, Panic/Anxiety, Discussions of discovering dead bodies, People going missing, Devious Intentions, Depictions of Guns, Mourning, Wolf Courtship Rituals
I do not condone the acts displayed in this story nor do I believe any members of BTS would actually engage in this type of behavior. This is simply written for entertainment purposes and should not be taken as a reflection of my own values, opinions, or morals.
<<Forbidden Fables Masterlist>>
Preview: A calm life in a small village was all you ever knew, your days spent in the bakery and keeping to yourself. You liked the quiet and gentle nature of your life, but one day a wolf stands outside of your window, a stranger arrives, and people begin to go missing. Do you dare don your red coat and enter the forest?
A/N: Hello babes! My fellow authors and myself decided to change up the order of our release dates for our Forbidden Fables Collab! And, since I recently finished this little beauty, I get to release it first. yay! Now I can sit back and savor the delectable writings of my fellow authors 💜 I hope you enjoy Run Little Red it was fun to make! I can’t wait to read the comments and asks 💜
There was a wolf outside your window.
It’s eyes gleaming in the early morning light like molten gold with silver fur that melted into the snow.
You sat up in bed, wrapping your patchwork quilt around your shoulders as you scooted to the foot of the bed. It was staring at you, that much you were sure of. And that startled you, the almost human like appearance to its gaze was intense and unsettling. It was an animal, but it appeared to be far more intelligent than you had first anticipated.
Maybe it was hungry, perhaps that was why it was so intent on peering through your window.
No, it certainly wasn’t, that was evident. What you had missed before was glaringly obvious now, its silver muzzle was stained in red. It had made a fresh kill before it had wandered over to your cottage mere feet from the woods.
So, if it wasn’t hungry, why was it here?
You watched in morbid fascination as its tongue slipped out of its mouth and laved over the fresh, thick, crimson blood that decorated its muzzle. You could see the rows of sharp canines hidden within its maw for mere seconds before the wolf clenched its jaw shut and settled on its hindlegs in the drift of snow.
“My, what big teeth you have.” You whispered to yourself, your voice seemingly louder in the empty room.
You couldn’t help but wonder what it had made it’s meal. Perhaps a deer, or a squirrel, maybe a bird, or even a small, innocent, little rabbit.
That would have been ideal. But, you knew it was most likely one of the poor farmer’s livestock. Your village was small and self sufficient, rarely reaching out to its neighboring villages and rarely receiving visitors of its own. So, when the cattle and the goats began to disappear, only their entrails remaining, the town quickly became suspicious.
It was either one of two things, rebellious teenagers making a hassle for everyone, or a wolf amongst you.
If only you had known what was to come.
You stared back warily out the window at the creature, suddenly realizing just how easily it could bust through your flimsy window if it wanted to. This wolf was probably the largest you had ever seen, it was almost the size of a pony, with long limbs that held thick muscle from the time it spent chasing down its prey. You were certain a simple snap of its jaws would kill you in an instant if it desired to do so.
It’s gaze had not left you, petrifying you to your very spot. You felt like the two of you were playing a game, waiting to see who would be the one to make the first move.
The call of your mother’s voice was the tie breaker.
You rose to your feet, your bare skin brushing over the cool wood of the floor as you retreated through your door, back first.
“Yes?” You replied, angling your neck to the hallway for a moment.
“Hurry, sweetheart! You’re going to be late!” She called back from the kitchen.
The bakery had been in your family for the past three generations now, starting with your grandfather, then your mother, and now you. Your mother was showing signs of her age now, her hands were unsteady and unreliable creating more of a mess than a sellable meal. So, it was your turn now. It was the only thing you could do for her, besides be married off and you weren’t quite ready for that. No one was.
At least that was the gentle way of putting it, in reality you had made yourself quite the social pariah. You were a determined woman, one who liked to keep to herself, one who liked owning the bakery and not having to sign over the ownership to a husband. You had your mother to care for, a business to run, and a grandmother that lived deep in the woods to fret over.
It didn’t really matter what you wanted, you did what was necessary to stay afloat.
“Just a minute!” You called once more before slinking back into your room.
There was a noticeable difference about the space now, the wolf was gone. The only sign he had ever been there being the large dip in the snow that his form had disrupted and a track of paw prints headed into the forest. How strange.
You shook your head in an attempt to clear your thoughts, you didn’t want to think about what you would have to do if the creature returned. The shotgun looming over you from above the front door said enough.
You couldn’t allow a predator to get comfy around your home, that would only invite trouble into your life.
You dressed yourself quickly that morning in as many layers as you could. The walk to the bakery wasn’t a far one, but it was a frigid one. You made sure to wear your wool stockings and your leather boots, the snow looked to be thick and you didn’t fancy the idea of wet feet all day while you worked.
You leaned over the side of your bed, scooping up your bag and throwing the keys inside of it in one motion. The extra sleep you had gotten the night before had cost you the time you needed in the morning to ready yourself.
Once you gave yourself a quick look over and ran through your mental checklist, you rushed out of your room and into the main room of the house. Your house was more like a cottage, it was incredibly small. With only your mother’s room, your room, and the kitchen in one corner with the fireplace in the other it made for a quaint and cozy home. Albeit a cramped one.
“Your breakfast is on the table.” Your mother said, smoothing a stray hair behind her ear with trembling hands.
You could see her cleaning up the mess she had made that morning in an attempt to show you kindness. Normally, you were the one to wake early and prepare the both of you for the day ahead. But she had also told you many times before that she was your mother and she was supposed to take care of you as well.
You eyed the bowl of steaming porridge that sat upon the rickety table. “I don’t think I’ll have the time to eat it.”
“Then you’ll make the time.” She huffed, wiping a wet rag over the counter in two swipes.
“I shouldn’t have overslept.” You sighed, resting your bag on the floor as you took a seat.
“You needed the rest, dear. You’re up every morning at the crack of dawn and you don’t come home until nightfall. You don’t need to work that much.” She chided you, smoothing her hands over your hair in a fond manner.
“I do, for you and for Grandmother.” You reminded her. The cost of living was not cheap.
“And what about you? You should be spending time with people your age, not working yourself to the bone.”
“I don’t need anyone but you, and Grandmother.” You smiled before sipping at your spoon quickly, hissing as you burned the tip of your tongue in your haste.
“Youth is wasted on the young.” She chided under her breath, spurring a giggle from your throat.
You finished your food as quickly as you could before excusing yourself from the table and heading for the door.
“Your cloak, dear!” Your mother called as you pulled the door open, the chill of the snow seeping into your bones.
“Yes, mother!” You chirped with an amused roll of your eyes as you curled your fingers around the crimson fabric of the cloak. Your grandmother had made it herself two winters ago, as much as you loved it and her you had to admit it was a tad ostentatious and you weren’t exactly one for attention. But it was warm and it served its purpose well.
The door creaked shut behind you, squeaking softly as it settled back into the frame. The snow had fallen much higher than you had previously anticipated. You tightened the ties of your cloak and delicately flipped the large hood over your head before gripping your layers of skirts and hiking them up as you began your journey.
It was rather slippery that day, you couldn’t restrain the slight squeals that fell from your parted lips each time the heel of your boot found a patch of ice and sent you sliding. You were certain you should have caught the attention of a few passerbys, but to your surprise a large group of them had become preoccupied.
There were about fourteen of them, all in one great circle fervently discussing something. They seemed to be worried, panicked even. It had caught your attention now that the group was made up mostly of men excluding the butcher’s wife and daughter. Both’s cheeks were stained red, their eyes brimming with unshed tears as they held onto each other tight in the crisp air.
Your face tensed in confusion as you approached the bakery, the group not too far away from you.
“Oh, poor Sarah.” A tender voice cooed worriedly from next door. It was the tailor, she and her apprentice were stood outside, thick shawls wrapped around the both of them.
You occupied yourself by rifling through your leather satchel, pretending to look for the shop keys you held in that very hand. You knew that eavesdropping wasn’t very polite, but you also were the curious sort, and that curiosity demanded to be satiated.
“Don’t worry, miss. I’m sure they’ll find him soon, you know how the young ones are.” The apprentice said, her hand resting on the tailor’s shoulder in a gesture of comfort.
“It’s not like William though, he’s a sweet boy. It doesn’t make any sense for him to go up and missing at the crack of dawn.” She replied, her dark eyes narrowing in suspicion. “I just find it funny is all, that a stranger shows up here the same day that Sarah’s boy disappears.”
“Coincidence isn’t evidence.” The apprentice hummed, pulling her shawl tighter around herself as she began to back up against the shop door, aggravated by the chilly air. “I’m sure he’ll turn up, with a search party that size he’ll be back home in no time.”
With that, you finally retrieved your “missing” keys and unlocked the door, sliding into the safety of the bakery. You knew William as well, he really was a sweet kid...to most. Your heart did go out to Sarah though, you didn’t know the pain of a missing child but you could empathize. The sight of her broken face remained burned into your mind as you readied the shop, lighting the hearth and preparing your materials to start your first batch of bread for the day. Your late start was going to nip you in the behind, most of the women arrived by noon to get their first pick of goods and the two hours it would take to make your batches was going to loom over your head the entire time.
You were mid kneading your dough when the familiar tinkle of the bell above the shop door demanded your attention. You paused for a moment, your aching arms thanking you for the short reprieve. Almost immediately your breath was caught in your throat. You had been expecting one of the regular mothers wandering their way in, or perhaps even one of their children running errands. Not this man that stood before you.
This was most obviously the stranger the tailor had been referring to moments earlier, there was no mistake. Your village was small, everyone knew everyone and this stranger looked nothing like any of the people in your town.
He was so much taller than anybody else, broader too. But most astonishing was his pure silver hair and the deep honey shade of his eyes. You had never seen anyone as young as him with hair that light, it surely wasn’t grey, the shade far too bright to be mistaken with something that dull. He was damn near ethereal and unfairly attractive. His looks had almost distracted you from his attire but now that you were paying attention, he was severely underdressed for the weather. He had to be freezing cold.
“Hello, can I help you?” You asked softly, patting your hands against your apron to remove the excess flour from your skin.
He had a rather confident stance, like he was the owner of the shop instead of you, you who was slightly cowering and thrumming with anxiety.
He sent you a wide grin, his teeth were pearly white and for some unknown reason that sent your heart crashing into your stomach. You could have sworn they even looked slightly pointy at the ends, not unlike those of the creature you had seen outside your window that morning. You had almost been distracted by the sweet dimples that rested in his cheeks. What duality he had.
He tilted his head back slightly, peering down at you from above, “Hm, I’m looking for something sweet.” He hummed.
“Sweet?” You mumbled to yourself, resting your hand on your hip in thought.
“Oh! I made some sweet rolls yesterday, how about that?” You said with a snap of your fingers, retreating further into the shop without a response from him.
Now in work mode you busied yourself with preparing the stranger’s order. You couldn’t help but wonder why he had arrived, what his reason for being there was. Barely anybody passed through your village, and they certainly didn’t stay as long as he had.
Once you had retrieved the tray of rolls you set them on the counter before grabbing a pot of freshly warmed icing and gently drizzling it over top. Once each roll had been thoroughly coated, you set the pot aside and headed to the cupboard to retrieve a bag for them.
“Perfect.” You sighed in irritation, craning your neck back to see the top of the shelf.
Normally, you had endless amounts of bags and never needed the ones stored on the top shelf. But this winter had been far more difficult than past ones and your stock had not been refilled in quite a while.
Desperately not wanting to search for your wooden stool, you stubbornly resorted to balancing on the tips of your toes, your fingers just barely brushing against the material of the bags. You groaned in frustration, bouncing up slightly only to knock the bags back further on the shelf and worsen the ache in your shoulder.
Just as you were about to give up and resort to looking for your rickety stool, you felt a hand settle on your waist and a chest press against your back as the stranger reached up and grabbed the bags for you. He was incredibly warm, so warm you thought he may even be sick. He felt as warm as the heat emanating from a fire of fresh coals and that was incredibly alarming, but also explained his state of dress.
You flinched in surprise as you felt him set the bags aside and settle his other hand on your shoulder. It was deathly quiet, the only sounds being his slow, steady breaths underlying your panicked ones accompanied by the calm rise and fall of his chest against your back. You had never been this close to anyone before, it was incredibly uncomfortable.
You felt much like a rabbit, cornered, panicking, and believing that if you stayed still enough he wouldn’t see you and would go away.
He gently rested his forehead against your hair, nuzzling from side to side before reaching up and playing with a stray strand. You could feel him taking a deeper breath this time, humming softly like he was pleased.
“Sweet.” He mumbled to himself.
Oh. Oh, no. Who did this man think he was? You were not on the menu. You shuddered in fear before jerking away, smacking his hands off of you.
You turned on your heel, backing away from him as you fixed him with an annoyed glare. The look he gave you was one of clear confusion, a layer of hurt and frustration buried beneath.
“I’m not sure how things work where you come from, but normally you ask for permission before you go touching someone you don’t know.” You huffed, slamming the empty bag on the counter as you began to package the rolls.
It didn’t matter if he was attractive or not, you were not going to let him touch you as he pleased or get the wrong message that you weren’t even conveying in the first place.
The stranger rounded the counter, the block of wood effectively separating the two of you, making you feel a little safer. His eyes looked darker than before, less like honey and more like amber.
His confident demeanor had returned, effectively confusing you even more.
“Forgive me,” He said, another smile gracing his lips as he rested his forearms on the countertop, “It seems we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot? My name is Namjoon, and yours?”
So, he did have the capability to be somewhat of a gentleman. He was rather well spoken, and his strange mannerisms and quiet demeanor had all but disappeared in a flash.
So, begrudgingly, you replied with your name.
He repeated it after you, his tongue swiping over the full flesh of his lower lip like he was tasting it, sending a chill down your spine.
“I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression, you were correct in assuming where I come from we do greetings a little differently.” He said with a soft chuckle, his amber eyes tracing every movement you made.
You did feel a little bad now for how you had lashed out at him. Normally, you weren’t one who was quick to anger, but that still didn’t excuse what he had done.
“It’s alright,” You said, slowly, “You need to be more careful though, if that had been anyone else I don’t think you would have gone unscathed.”
“Are most of your people so quick to violence?” He asked, titling his head slowly, a strong sense of intrigue exuding from his form.
“I wouldn’t say so normally, but we’re all a little on edge as of late. Our livestock has been attacked and just this morning one of us went missing.”
“Missing?” He asked, a new glow to eyes.
“Yes, I’m afraid so. The butcher’s son hasn’t been seen all day, it’s very unlike him.” You said, your teeth sinking into your lower lip, unsure if you should tell him more. But, considering it concerned him you felt maybe it was in his best interest to tell him.
“If I were you, I wouldn’t stick around for too long. Some find it suspicious you turned up the same day that William went missing.”
“And what if I don’t feel like leaving just yet?” He asked, disregarding the information you had just given him as if he had no reason to be worried.
You had no answer for him, truly you didn’t. The packaged rolls sat between the two of you and a long stretch of silence as he stared at you and waited for a response that didn’t come. And, without another word, he dropped a few too many coins on the counter, gathered up the bag, and headed for the front door.
He stopped for only a moment, his fingers gently stroking at your red cloak you had hung up beside the door. His amber gaze trailed over each stitch as he lightly grazed the material a few more times.
“I’ll be seeing you soon, little red.”
~~~~~~~
After he had left, your day had not gotten any easier. Just as you had expected, it had been another busy day. You had managed to satisfy all of your customers, despite that late start you had made.
There were a few upsides to the job you had, one being that it allowed you to tune into any gossip you would normally miss out on. You were more of a hit with the older women of the village, the people your age finding you to be a tad strange and off putting.
That day your shop had been filled with hushed whispers of what had come to pass, the search party still had not returned from their trip to recover William. The outlook was not in the boy’s favor, not with the increase in predator activity you had been receiving as of late. You weren’t so sure you would be seeing William walking back into town any time soon.
Once the day had come to an end, the sun dipping just below the tree line and casting shades of red over the snow, you had extinguished the lights of your shop and were locking up, your hood drawn over your head. That was when you found out the horrible truth.
As you slid the shop keys into your bag and turned on your heel, you saw the search party emerging from the woods. And with them, you could see a blanketed form lying in the snow, the sheet swaddling the body slowing turning red.
You swallowed harshly, turning as quickly as you could and beginning to make your way through the snow and away from what you knew was coming. You didn’t want to see the look on Sarah’s face, you didn’t want to watch her go boneless in the arms of her husband. But it didn’t matter what you saw or didn’t see, you would never forget the sound of her screams piercing the crisp, snowy air.
Your breath was visible in hot puffs in front of your face as you felt the burn of tears beginning to prick at the corners of your eyes. It didn’t matter if you didn’t care for William, it didn’t matter if you knew what he was really like, there was nothing quite like the sound of a mother’s heartbreak. It was enough to send anybody down to their knees.
Your numb fingers wiped away the warm tears rushing down your cheeks, and amidst your blurry vision you could have sworn you saw a familiar figure slinking off into the woods, a flash of silver hair that just barely materialized. You could have sworn that that was Namjoon disappearing like a ghost into the frigid depths of the forest.
You shook your head, you shouldn’t bother yourself with what he was doing, your main goal should be getting home before the sun completely dips below the horizon and plunges you into darkness. So, with that thought, you rushed home.
Once you entered the cottage, things didn’t get any better. Your mother was stood there, waiting anxiously for your arrival. As soon as you had stepped foot inside she whipped the door shut and helped you remove your cloak as you toed your boots off.
“No more working late, do you hear me?” She said, gripping your shoulders to get you to look at her. “It’s not safe out there.”
“Word travels fast then?” You asked humorlessly.
“It’s a shame what happened to that boy, and I’ll be damned if that happens to you.” She replied sternly.
“And what about Grandmother then? What do we do about her? She’s out there, all alone, with no one to protect her.”
“She has the lumberjack-”
“And he only checks on her every two weeks.” You interrupted, “Let me go out tomorrow and bring her back to us. I’ll go first thing in the morning.”
Your mother bit her lip, her hands shakily settling on her hips as she thought to herself. “I’ll go with you then.”
“No, you can’t possibly think you’ll be able to make the trip. The snow is thick and it’s a long walk there, you’ll exhaust yourself. It’ll be better if I go, faster too.” You said as you approached the fireplace, raising your hands to the flames to warm them.
“And your grandmother, you think she’ll be able to make it back through the snow?” She probed, raising her eyebrow.
She had a point, if you were saying she wouldn’t be able to make it there how would you expect your grandmother to make it back with you?
You rested your hand on the back of your neck, pacing the floor and causing your layers of skirts to swirl around your ankles. You came to a sudden stop, your eyes settling on the shotgun that was mounted above your front door. Idea.
You didn’t like the thought of her being out there all alone, but if you knew she had something to protect her from the wild animals that would make you feel much better.
“Alright, what if I bring her some supplies instead? I’ll grab some things that’ll last her a good while and I’ll show her how to use the shotgun. I’ve saved up some money of my own, I could purchase us a new one.” You mused out loud.
You loved your grandmother, she was the last living member of your father’s side of the family, she was the only connection you had to him at this point. You couldn’t bear the thought of losing her just yet, not when you could prevent it from those creatures that were beginning to terrorize your people.
Your mother was silent once more, her thumb settled between her lips as she nervously chewed at the nail. She didn’t like the idea of you headed out into the woods alone, but she was comforted by the thought of you taking the shotgun with you, that much you were certain of.
“We don’t know when the next storm will hit, and the last thing we need is for her to be stuck out there, all alone, with no food, surrounded by the wild. Let me go.”
And that was enough to break her resilience.
“Promise me, promise me that you’ll come back.” She whispered, her body visibly sagging as those words left her lips.
“It goes without saying.” You murmured, wrapping her up in your embrace.
It was easier this way, you didn’t want to make a promise you had no certainty in keeping.
The air in the cottage had lost all tension, everything was much calmer than before. But your peace could only last for so long. It was when you entered your bedroom that you realized something else was wrong.
The room was positively frigid, and upon further inspection you realized that your window had been pried open, the cold winter air surging forth and snuffing out any traces of heat.
You surged forward and grasped the window, attempting to swing it shut as quickly as you could to try and insulate whatever warmth was left. But the thick scent of copper quickly stalled your movements. Instead of closing the window, you found yourself leaning forward into the brisk air, sniffing intently as you tried to make out where the scent was emanating from. You didn’t have to look far.
Your hands sealed themselves over your mouth, smothering the scream that threatened to break through them.
Sitting in the snow where the wolf had once laid, was a human heart. The snow seemed to sizzle around it, the organ still warm and slick with blood that carved rivers and valleys into the pure ice.
You could feel bile rising up your throat, your vision shaking so violently it made it appear that the heart was vibrating with steady pumps like it was still alive.
And, to your horror, you could make out a form a few feet back in the snow. The only thing that was visible in the pitch black were it’s molten gold eyes, shining back at you in recognition before it scuttled away into the darkness.
You frantically slammed the window shut and drew the curtains closed tight.
There was no mistake now, someone or something had been following you.
~~~~~~~
When you awoke the next morning from a restless sleep, you elected to keep your discovery to yourself.
Although you were incredibly frightened by what you had seen, the last thing you needed was to scare your already frail mother. Your grandmother was still in need of assistance, and you couldn’t allow your mother to halt your plans. You had a mission to accomplish, and you were set on completing it with a shotgun slung over your arm and a picnic basket on the other.
So, you shakily grasped your red cloak and wrapped it around your shoulders in haste, your fingers struggling to do up the ties at the base of your throat. Once you had completed the normally easy task, you slipped your basket onto the inside of your elbow and pulled down the shotgun from its resting place above the door.
You regularly cleaned it, a task your father had enjoyed teaching you at a young age, so you were certain it wouldn’t jam if you needed to use it in a hurry. You slid a box of ammunition into your pocket, one for you, and another box into the picnic basket, one for your grandmother.
And then you were off, bidding your mother goodbye with a hug and a swift kiss to her cheek, and an unspoken promise tittering on the edges of your lips saying that you would be home for supper. But those words were better left unspoken.
The sun was just barely peeking through the thick clouds overhead, you were certain a blizzard was brewing. This only urged you to move quicker through the cleared paths.
But the clouds weren’t the only foreboding message that morning, it was the mother’s wailing in the town square. There were three more now, holding each other in a comforting manner as they wept into each other’s shoulders.
More children had been snatched from their mothers.
Sarah sat by herself, of her own volition, an obsidian mourning veil obscuring her tear stained features. A chill ran down your back as you urged yourself to walk by them quicker, she looked more like an executioner than she did a mourner, surrounded by a choir of weeping women.
You could still hear the echoes of her cries in the back of your mind, the raw chords striking your ears once more.
You tightened your grip on the strap of your shotgun, your pace slowing as you reached the bridge that led you into the forest. You felt like you could breathe now, despite the knowledge that people your own age had lost their lives in the thick overgrowth before you. The relief that you felt from the women in the square outweighed your fear.
The bridge creaked in protest as your boots tapped against the wood. It would need to be repaired come spring.
“Little red!” A voice called from the treeline causing you to suddenly stop, snow kicking up beneath your boots.
Moments later, a familiar figure emerged from the frost coated trees, tall, ash hair, and honey eyes. Namjoon.
“Where are you off to, little red?” He cooed, his voice low with a sultry edge that sent shivers down your spine. You couldn’t tell if they were delighted or terrified chills.
“My grandmother’s, what are you doing here?” You asked, your body tense and defensive.
He drew nearer now, a wide grin gracing his lips with a set of teeth so white they resembled the snow beneath your boots. The closer he got the more you noticed about him. His perfect white teeth seemed a little sharper than most, and the clothes he wore were once more, not suited for the frigid weather.
“I caught sight of this old thing,” He hummed, his finger tracing over your cloak and the strap of your shotgun as he slowly circled you, “And couldn’t help but see you.”
You stepped back hesitantly, his presence was unnerving. Without saying anything more you pulled away from his reach and began to walk by him briskly, headed into the woods.
“Leaving so soon? We only just met.” He laughed, it would have been a nice contagious laughter had you not heard the bitter edge to it.
“I’m afraid I don’t have the time to dawdle, Namjoon. I need to reach her before the storm hits.”
“Well then, won’t you let me accompany you?”
“I don’t need an escort, I know my way just fine, thank you very much.”
“And what about the beasts then?” He asked from beside you, sending you halting to a stop.
“Beasts?” You asked slowly, gazing up at him from beneath the cover of your hood.
“Well, surely you know?” He asked in a patronizing tone, his honey eyes narrowing. “Four people from your village have gone missing, red. Surely you know that wasn’t an accident. Great beasts have roamed this forest for centuries and they don’t take kindly to intruders. It would be much safer if I came with you.”
You stood there for a moment in silence, contemplating his words. He was not wrong, two people were much safer than just one.
So, begrudgingly, you accepted his offer.
His hand quickly captured your own, his fingers intertwining with yours as he pressed his side tightly to your own with a grin. How bold. You were struck once more by the fact that he was incredibly warm, it was no wonder why he wasn’t bundled up like you were. It felt like he had struck a fever.
Namjoon filled the silence between the two of you surprisingly well, telling you stories of the great beasts that roamed the woods, effectively scaring you and holding your attention. He had a way of speaking that drew people in, like a siren from the stories your father had read to you.
It was easy to forget with him, easy to forget why you had been frightened in the first place, easy to sink into his side as his warmth seeped into your flesh, and easy to get lost in his voice.
That was of course, until you felt him pulling you off of the path.
You dug your heels into the snow, tugging at his hand violently. “Namjoon!”
“Yes?” He asked.
“What are you doing? Her cottage is this way, we stay on the path, we never leave the path.” You said, gesturing towards the dirt pathway beneath the two of you.
That was a spoken rule in your village, never go off of the path.
“That’s ridiculous,” He chuckled, “If we continue the way you were going, that doubles the time it takes to get there, it’s better we take the shortcut.”
“No.” You sternly said.
“And why not?”
“Because, there’s predators out there! Mountain lions, bears, wolves!”
A mischievous smirk pulled at the corners of his lips, “Are you scared of wolves, little red?”
“I’m scared of anything that wants to eat me.” You replied with a dry tone.
“Well you do smell very sweet-”
“Namjoon!”
He took a deep breath, his eyes darting between you and the shortcut. “I promise you, nothing will hurt you while I’m here. Besides, did you know some flowers bloom in the winter?”
“What? You can’t be serious.”
“I am, there’s a field of flowers this way, all different breeds that bloom in the dead of winter. Don’t you think your grandmother would enjoy those?”
You chewed at your lip uneasily. He knew exactly what to say to make you question your own actions. You would be lying if you said you didn’t want to see what he was talking about, and you knew that yes, your grandmother would be elated by something so cheery in the bleak winter months.
So, after a few moments of consideration, you agreed.
And Namjoon had not been lying. After a few minutes of trekking through the deep snow the two of you emerged into a clearing, and just like he said, it was filled with flowers of all different breeds.
You found yourself crouching down into the field, your fingers trailing over each velvety petal that had somehow found a way to survive in the clutches of an icy death. Your favorites were the deep red roses. They were a dead match for your cloak, a beautiful color that was delicately dusted with soft flakes of snow.
You couldn’t help but greedily pluck several blossoms from the foliage, slipping them into your basket.
And, amidst your excitement, you hadn’t noticed just how close your companion had gotten until you felt him. That incredible warmth had returned as he crouched down behind you, and just like he had in the bakery, you felt him lightly nuzzling your head and breathing in your scent as he pressed himself closer to you, his arms winding around your body in an attempt to pull you even tighter to him.
You froze, your finger mid pull on the rose’s stem causing you to slice the appendage on a stray thorn. You hissed in pain as you watched the blood drip from the tip of your finger before rolling down your wrist and carving a pool into the snow beneath you.
And, without a thought, Namjoon’s hand encircled your wrist and yanked it up to his face.
His once honey eyes appeared brighter than before, his long lashes fluttering as his warm breath misted over your skin. And before you could stop him, he licked a line up your wrist, collecting the blood, and pressed your finger to his lips swiping his tongue over the wound.
You yelped in surprise, wrenching your hand free from his grip as your heart pounded violently. You rose to your feet and stumbled backwards through the snow.
Namjoon remained where he was crouched, a sudden hunger evident in his honey gaze, a gaze that was not so unfamiliar.
“We-we need to go!” You stuttered, turning on your heel and retreating from whatever had just happened.
You held your hand close to your chest as you walked, frightened by what had just transpired. A part of you suddenly wished you had made your journey alone as you had previously intended.
But the harsh crunch of snow behind you reminded you of the choice you made, and the molten glare digging into your back exemplified it.
~~~~~~~
The rest of your journey was made in complete silence, a new tension had settled between the two of you. And, true to Namjoon’s word, the way he had taken you was indeed a shortcut. So, you felt no remorse as you sprinted toward the cottage ahead of you and threw a weak thank you over your shoulder.
You couldn’t stand the awkward tension anymore, you couldn’t stand being in his presence any longer than you needed to.
As soon as you approached the front door, you threw it open and let it shut behind you. You leaned against the door for a moment to catch your breath before you shrugged the shotgun off of your shoulder and strung it up on the hook beside the front door.
“Grandmother!” You called as you began to approach the kitchen door, “I’m here!”
And upon opening it, a blood curdling scream broke free from your lips.
The sight before you could only be described as a massacre. Your hands desperately tried to cover your eyes, but the damage had already been done. There was blood, so much blood amongst other things laid out atop the counter.
You fell backwards, your body sliding down the wall as hoarse screams raked through your throat. The unmistakable scent of blood was thick in the kitchen sending your stomach churning in your gut. You knew that scent, it was clear as day whatever had remained in that room had once been human.
“Sweetheart?” A familiar voice called out to you.
And upon opening your eyes, you saw your grandmother standing before you. The sudden feeling of elation surging through your body at the sight of her alive quickly died out. She wore a leather apron stained with blood, both fresh and old, and her hands were gloved. You quickly stood and began to back away from her, your sense of self preservation suddenly kicking in, your eyes zeroing in on the meat cleaver she held in her left hand.
“Sweetheart, calm down.” She whispered softly, carefully setting the blade down on the counter beside the gorey mess.
Your eyes were darting everywhere but her, panicked breaths leaving your parted lips. Your gaze finally settled in the corner of the room where a pile of clothing sat and a familiar axe. The lumberjack, she had murdered the lumberjack.
“Why?” You cried, trembling as if you had been drenched to the bone. “Why did you do it?!”
“I had too sweetie, I have to feed them.”
“Them? Who?” You asked, backing out of the kitchen as she followed your trail, her face soft with sympathy despite the flecks of blood that decorated her cheeks.
“The wolves, of course. I made a deal with them long ago, if I fed them in the winter I could stay here.” She replied, her voice alarmingly calm. “The lumberjack was a sweet man but this winter was a rough one, not many travelers I’m afraid.”
“You’ve gone mad.” You whispered.
“I know this is a lot to take in, but it’s best if you listen to me darling. Your grandfather was one of them, he courted me and then we had your father and your uncles. It’s always tricky with litters, you never know who is going to take after who. Your father though, he was the most human out of all of them. Poor thing couldn’t even shift.” She sighed, her eyes glazing over.
“You need help, you’re not well.” You tried again, doing your best to keep distance between the two of you.
“I know you’re a bit shaken up, but you need to listen to me, it’s in your best interest.” She sighed, untying the leather apron from around her waist.
“That cloak you’re wearing, it’s a symbol that you’ve come of age and Namjoon has had every intention of courting you. He’s been rather obvious really, he’s becoming quite frustrated with you.”
You suddenly became still, your mind flashing through every time Namjoon had ever touched the very item you were wearing. What she was saying, although deluded, had some semblance of truth.
“I-I have to go.” You mumbled, your throat tightening from the copper scent and smell of flesh that hung heavily in the air. You needed to get home and far away from her before she killed you too.
A deep sadness spread over her features as her head hung low, shaking from side to side. “Don’t run,” She breathed, “They find the chase seductive.”
All this time you had been slowly backing away from the person you loved the most, and now you had been stopped by the feeling of a solid form behind you. You quickly spun around, a shriek of horror escaping you as you met the bright, gold eyes of your escort, Namjoon.
And, without thinking, you ran.
Your cloak was fluttering behind you rapidly in the harsh, cold winds, the snow coming down thicker than it ever had before. And, to your absolute horror, a loud howl was echoing throughout the trees.
You peered over your shoulder as you sprinted to the best of your ability through the snow drifts. The wolf that had sat outside your window days before had returned and was chasing you down. Now that there was nothing separating you from the creature you were terrified, it was massive and hunting you down. It had the clear advantage, you were inevitably going to die. You were never going home again, another child was going to be ripped from their mother.
Tears were pouring down your cheeks like waterfalls as you blindly ran, unsure as to where you were going. You knew that you didn’t have time, four legs were faster than two and you were greatly impaired by the weather.
With no goal in mind, no destination in sight, you ran in hopes you would be able to live for a little longer. You did your best to weave between the trees, slide down hills of snow, and keep running for your life. Your lungs burned and your legs ached but still you ran, even as you heard the loud steps of the wolf coming nearer and nearer.
And, just as you had lost all hope, an outcropping of rocks became visible at the base of a snowy hill. And with every intention to save your life, you recklessly threw yourself down the hill allowing gravity to take over for you.
The second you felt yourself cease rolling, you rose to your unsteady legs and dizzily stumbled into the cluster of rocks, pulling yourself into the shelter away from the blizzard.
But your hope was fleeting as you came to a realization. The shelter was a den, one that had clearly been in use. It was littered with furs, blankets, books, and materials for a fire. The creature had been corralling you to this very location.
You turned as another burst of adrenaline shot through your body only to be stunted by the sight of the silver wolf blocking the exit to the den.
It’s bright eyes stared back at you with a gleam of satisfaction as it crouched down, shimming it’s way into the den and backing you up further into its depths.
You watched, horrified, as the wolf began to whimper, it’s body shaking violently as the sound of bones beginning to snap and crunch echoed throughout the space, reforming and distorting themselves into vaguely familiar shapes as it’s fur began to melt away.
Those bright golden eyes faded to a recognizable honey shade, and the silver fur disappeared and showed itself as ashen hair. On the floor of the den sat Namjoon in the place of where the powerful wolf had once stood.
He carefully rolled his head from side to side, his neck cracking loudly in response as he rose to his feet. A mischievous smirk pulled at his lips, a triumphant gleam to his eyes as he confidently approached your trembling form.
A broken cry escaped from your throat as you felt him press his forehead to your own, lightly nuzzling his head against yours. His strange behavior now made sense, he had been courting you in a way that was unfamiliar to you, but natural to him.
All of the people that had gone missing were male’s your age, he had been wiping out the competition.
And the bloody organ he had left outside of your window, had been a horrific present. A show of his dominance and his twisted affection.
You were crying uncontrollably now, everything you had experienced suddenly crashing down on you. You flinched in terror as you felt his fingers grip your jaw, his lips just brushing against your own and he hummed happily.
“You have nowhere left to run, little red.”
#bts#bts namjoon#bts x reader#namjoon#kim namjoon#namjoon x reader#kim namjoon x reader#yandere#yandere bts#yandere namjoon#bts fanfic#yandere namjoon x reader#yandere kpop#yandere bts x reader#werewolf namjoon#werewolf namjoon x reader#yandere werewolf#werewolf bts#werewolf bts x reader#hyrbid namjoon#hybrid bts#bts rm#yandere rm#yandere rm x reader
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Horse Whisperer - Tommy Shelby x male!reader
This got so long so quick. Hope you enjoy! (AO3)
Warnings/tags: boss/employee relationship, friends to lovers, fluff (link to bonus smut at the end)
Wordcount: 3418
Request: Tommy x m reader R is good with horses. Rides and takes care of them, but Tommy notices him when he is able to calm down a horse that went completely wild. He finds himself intrigued in this 'horse whisperer'. They share their love for horses and it develops into love for each other. That leads to secret meetings, one pulling each other to the side for quick kisses, riding together etc.
Horses have always been the one animal you gravitate towards. Cats and dogs were okay, but they were nothing compared to horses. You loved them and as you got older, you found yourself working with them, and over time, gaining a reputation for being a hard stable worker who treats the animals well. Which is how you find yourself working on the Shelby estate, taking care of the Shelby family’s horses.
You rarely see any of them, and you have yet to meet Thomas Shelby, your employer, since the stable master had been the one to hire you. You don’t mind, as the horses are your number one priority. You have of course heard about them all, the rumors, the brutality, everything, but they seem to care about their horses, so you don’t care about anything else.
The first time you meet, or rather see Thomas Shelby is when the farrier comes to the stable to check over and shoe some of the horses. It’s a day with some bustling activity as horses are moved back and forth, but it’s all going well.
Until the last horse. A grey stallion named Tom-Tom you had warned them to be slow with, and that they shouldn’t move or even touch him without you there. You know him well. The horse gets nervous easily, and several hundred kilos of a nervous horse is bad news for everyone involved.
Which is why, when you return from taking a piss, you swear as you notice two stable-hands leading him out of his box.
Tom-tom is already agitated, so you increase your pace, keeping yourself from running or shouting just knowing that would make everything worse. It doesn’t help however, as seconds later there’s a loud clatter from somewhere in the stable as something is dropped, and Tom-Tom has had enough.
He neighs loudly and trashes around, the two men leading him barely hanging on to the ropes fastened on either side of his halter. Not deterred and panicking more by the second, Tom-Tom neighs again, this time rising up on his hind legs.
This time the ropes are dropped, and when his front is back on solid ground, Tom-Tom starts running towards the stable door. People dive out of his way, in no way thinking about trying to stop the panicked animal. Only one of the two stable doors were left open, but now Tom-Tom busts the other one open with his shoulder. Someone yells out in surprise on the other side and you swear, taking off after Tom-Tom, not even bothering to yell at the stupid idiots who took him out his box. You will get to them later.
Seconds later you’re outside too, eyes quickly landing on Tom-Tom where he’s pacing, almost running back and forth on the large open space in front of the stable. You quickly note the two men in peaky caps next to the stable door, which must have been the ones to yell, but you pay them no mind, all focus on Tom-Tom as you try to get the horse’s attention.
“What the fuck was that?” One of the peaky men yells, mustache quivering.
”Shut the fuck up or the horse is going to get worse you sod.” You purposefully try not to yell, but your voice comes out forceful nonetheless. It looks like he’s about to say something more, but the other man puts a hand on his shoulder, seemingly to stop him. It works, and you turn your attention back to Tom-Tom.
He is still pacing, not calming down in the slightest. You call his name over and over again as you slowly, every so slowly, creep closer to him.
A few feet away you stop, reaching out a hand towards him.
A few more strides, then Tom-Tom slows, before finally coming to a stop not far from your outstretched hand. He is still nervous as you approach once more, legs twitching, ears flicking back and forth, frothing ever so slightly at the mouth. You keep your voice low and even, talking to him as you get closer.
“That’s it, good boy. You doing better now?” When your hand makes contact with Tom-Tom’s mule, his head snaps up just once, before he puts his mule back in your hand. You move it slowly upwards, tracing your fingers up to his forehead, close to his mane.
“That’s it, that’s it.” You almost whisper, walking just a little bit forward so you can move your hands along his neck, ignoring the ropes for now. You talk slow and low, praising him for calming down and not running away as you slowly move your hand along his neck.
Tom-Tom moves his head so it’s over your shoulder, putting some weight against your shoulder and back.
Your hand moves from his neck down to the shoulder he banged into the stable door on his way out. It feels alright, slightly warm, but you can’t be sure nothing is damaged before walking him around for a bit.
Still being slow, you take a few steps back, Tom-Tom moves his head so you can look at him again. You untie one of the ropes from his halter, letting it fall to the ground, before gently starting to lead a slightly less twitching Tom-Tom away from the stable.
You hear the peaky man from earlier say something, you’re not sure if it’s directed at you or your companion, but you don’t care. You however feel eyes burning into your back, so you glance over your shoulder, your eyes connecting to intense blue eyes watching you from under a peaky cap.
----
A little while later, you return Tom-Tom to his box, satisfied that he will most likely be fine, though you will need to keep an extra eye one him for a few days. Then you talk to the farrier and get him to agree to return in a week, a smart man after having worked with horses for long.
After that, you find the two morons that took Tom-Tom out of his box without you. They were currently cleaning saddles, but you stop them in their work. Standing just inside one of the two doors to the rooms, you give them a verbal lashing. It’s at the tail end of this that Tommy Shelby finds you. You see the eyes of both boys grow wide, and one of them actually interrupts you.
“Uh-”
“What?!” You bite out. The boy doesn’t answer, instead pointing behind you. You turn around and leaning in the doorway is the man with the blue eyes from earlier.
“What do you want?” Blue Eyes raises a brow.
“What are you doing?”
“Giving these boys a reminder that they shouldn’t be stupid and do things they shouldn’t when they have been told multiple times not to do something.” Your tone is clipped, annoyed with the interruption. Blue Eyes doesn’t seem faced.
“Is that so?” He flickers his gaze to the boys behind you, and before you can really process what’s going on, the other door to the room slams behind the boys as they make themselves scarce. Blue eyes give you a once-over. “You don’t know who I am, do you?”
“I recognize the cap, you’re a peaky blinder, but other than that I got no fucking clue.” You cross your arms over your chest, the man almost seems like he is having fun.
“Is that a tone to take with your employer?” His tone is neutral, face much the same except a little twinkle of something you can’t recognize in his eyes.
“My employer is the stable master.”
“And his employer?”
“Thomas Shelby.” His brow is raised yet again, and a few seconds is all you need. “Ah, evening Mr. Shelby.” You uncross your arms, fishing out your cigarettes from your back pocket, taking one out.
“If you want to fire me for not being polite earlier, there are easier ways.” You offer him a cigarette, and to your surprise he pushes of the door frame and takes it. You light your own, then hand him the matches so he can use them. The flame dances briefly over his face as his attention is moved away from you, but just seconds later you got eye contact once more.
“I’m not here to fire you.” He says in an exhale of smoke.
“Then why are you here then Mr Shelby?” Your smoke mixes with his as you ask, wondering what this is.
“Please, call me Tommy.” You nod, furrowed brow, but Tommy keeps talking. “I just wanted to see the man that managed to calm down a wild horse.” You snort, already forgetting to even try keeping your response or tone in a fitting way for when talking to your boss.
“He was hardly wild Mr Sh- Tommy, he was just scared. I worked with Tom-Tom enough that I knew that, and I knew how to calm him down.”
“Still, an impressive feat to calm down a panicking animal.” Tommy’s eyes flicker all over you, and you suddenly notice how close he is standing to you. Every time either of you takes a drag of a cigarette, you can almost brush a hand against the other, smoke mingling as you talk. You take half a step back, unsure yet again of the situation you find yourself in. Tommy notices, but doesn’t comment on it other than a barely there tilt of his head. He seems to be sizing you up for something, but you have no idea what.
He mirrors you then, taking a step back too. A last drag of his cigarette before he stumps it out on the ground.
“I will see you around.” He doesn’t let you respond, out of the room and gone in seconds.
----
You don’t have to wonder much or long about what those words meant, as you do actually end up seeing him more after that little incident.
A lot more actually.
Before that day you had never even seen the man, but now, you see him at least once a week, if not more. He’s around the stable more, sometimes talking to the stable master, other times preparing for a ride, however the weirdest times are the ones where he comes around with an excuse to talk to you.
The first time it happens is a few days after the incident with Tom-Tom. He just wanders up while you are cleaning out his stable and asks you about him. You glance up at him, unsure why he is asking, but you start talking about Tom-Tom. You liked your job and talking to Tommy, your boss, was a sure way to keep that job. You end up talking through all your cleaning, and when you try to excuse yourself to do other work, Tommy insists you keep on talking, not letting go of you quite yet. You find it strange, but you do as you’re ordered.
That was the first time it happened, but not the last. Tommy will find you wherever you are, tell you to talk about something, most of the time the horses in the stable. You do so, and he mostly listens, sometimes coming on with comments or even stories of his own.
Surprisingly, Tommy loves horses too. You had thought he was just another rich man that had a lot of horses just because he could, but he genuinely seems to care about the animals. You sometimes see him feed them treats, giving them extra pats and attention when he thinks no one is looking. Hearing him talk about them is great too, sometimes he even smiles when talking about them, which you learn is something he doesn’t do a lot of.
Over time, your friendship of sorts grows strong, and you find yourself looking forward to the days Tommy comes to see you. It is a distraction from your work and the horses, but you don’t mind.
----
It’s night, and for once, the stable is quiet, almost no activity going on. Some horses are moving around in their boxes, and you can hear some animal rustling the bushes outside, but other than that, you’re alone with your lamp.
One of the mares, Lady, is only days away from birth, and to be on the safe side, you had suggested for you to watch her in the night. None of the others had wanted to do it, but you and the stable master were both content with it just being you. You know the old man is not long from retirement, and he was not about to stay up late when someone else he trusts can do it.
The only thing about doing night shifts like this was how boring and lonely it could be. Sitting on a hay bale outside Lady’s box, you try to enjoy or at least not mind the quiet. For a little while you had entertained yourself and Lady by humming, and even singing, some songs you knew.You tire of that quickly however, and have now settled on letting your thoughts wander before you try to find some work or really anything to do.
So when you hear quiet steps nearing the stables you are instantly on alert. No one else is supposed to be coming, and it’s still far until morning. The steps get closer and closer, before one stable door is pushed open, creaking as it reminds you that its hinges need oiling.
The first you see is a puff of smoke, and then Tommy enters the stable. He puts out his cigarette on the wall, throwing it outside, already aware of your ire for smoking near very flammable hay.
“Evening.” Tommy says, sounding weirdly formal for it being the middle of the night.
“Tommy, what are you doing here?” He keeps silent as he walks over to Lady’s box, peeking into it. You stand up so you're next to him.
“She looks about ready to go.” Tommy comments, keeping all of his attention on the horse except a brief glance at you.
“She is, which is why I’m here. But again, why are you here?” The silence stretches as Tommy says nothing, moving to lean his arms on the edge of Lady’s box. Lady doesn’t seem to care, as she munches on some hay.
“Couldn’t sleep.” The admission is quiet, almost like Tommy didn’t want you to hear him, so you pretend you didn’t. Sort of. You know he can use a distraction, knowing your own mind being like that when you’re the one who can’t sleep.
“Hey, let me show you something.” Tommy has to move back as you start to open the sliding door. Lady shifts her attention from her hay to you, blowing out some air from her nose.
“Come, come.” You say to her, reaching out your hand. She slowly takes a few steps towards you, pushing her nose into your hand, blowing some more air.
“Good girl.” You give her a scratch and then move out of the doorway of the now open box, letting her walk past you, into the hallway and right next to Tommy. Lady barely spares him a glance before walking towards the stable doors. You tug at Tommy’s arm for him to follow, grinning as he seems to be watching Lady with some skepticism. Opening the stable door for her, Lady slowly walks outside, stopping not far outside the doors, giving you time to close the doors behind her before she starts walking again.
You quickly catch up to her, as her steps are slow with how heavy she is. Tommy is quick to follow, walking behind you at the slow pace Lady has set. You can see Tommy thinking, glancing between you and her as you walk.
“And you still do not want to call yourself a horse whisperer, ey?” You snort.
“No, this is no horse whispering, this is trust built up over time.” Tommy doesn’t respond, so you let the silence linger, just enjoying the company. You let Lady steer the direction as she usually does, taking you on a short route that will lead you around some of the paddocks.
“It’s good for her to walk like this, both for her and the foal.” You tell Tommy, mostly to have something to fill the quiet night air with. He nods, seemingly lost in thought with his hands in his pockets as he walks beside you
It doesn’t take long before you return to the stable. Although Lady liked these walks, she would only walk for so long with how big and slow she was. She patiently waits for you to open the stable doors for her, going straight for her box as she gets inside. She gulps down some water as you push the door to her box closed.
Lady peaks outside so she can take the small piece of apple you offer her. You offer the other piece to Tommy, who takes it, and in turn, offers it to Lady. She takes it, munching on it as she lets out a small neigh. You smile at her, then at Tommy.
“I think she likes you.” Tommy is watching her, slowly raising his hand towards her. She lets him pet her for a little bit before moving away, moving into her box, away from the both of you.
“I think I like her too.” Tommy’s voice is quiet and it’s only when he turns his head towards you that you realize how close you are to him. You perhaps only inches apart, closer than needs be in the deserted stable. Tommy is watching you with a look that you don’t recognize, eyes intense as his focus is solely on you.
“I-” Whatever you were about to say is lost as Tommy raises a hand to cup your cheek, surprisingly gentle for a man with such a fierce reputation. But that is also not what you know him as, is it? You know that he loves horses, that you like talking to him, that he is seemingly content to walk with you when he can’t sleep, that he-
Your thoughts are cut off when Tommy leans forward to press his lips to yours.
The kiss is short, barely there, you aren’t even really able to process it’s really happening before Tommy leans back, gauging your reaction
You don’t know what to say, so instead of even trying, this time it’s you who leans forward to capture Tommy’s lips with yours. He is quick to respond, the hand not holding your face pulling you in by the waist. Not to be outdone, one of your hands goes to his ribs, the other to his hip.
His lips are firm against yours, intense and hungry.
He pushes you and you go willingly, letting him push you against the nearest wall, not stopping to kiss you, introducing his tongue, letting him slowly coax your mouth open.
Which would have been wonderful to continue, but in that moment Lady decides to remind you both that it’s her box you’re leaning against and that she would like some peace and quiet. To do this she lets out a loud neigh, causing the two of you to jump, breaking the kiss as you almost jump out of your skin.
“Lady!” You chastiste her, all you get in response is a huff of air and her turning around so her behind is towards you. You huff too, focus returning back to Tommy. He’s watching you once more, letting his eyes wander as his hands stay on your face and waist. He’s warm and firm against you, making you want to stay like this for a good while longer.
“She doesn’t take kindly to being disturbed when she is trying to relax.” Tommy raises an unimpressed brow.
“Is this her or your way of telling us that we should take this elsewhere?” You give him a brief kiss, not letting him deepen it.
“I wish I could, but I need to stay and watch her, it’s my job.” Tommy sighs, leaning back and letting go of you. You wish he hadn’t, the night feels colder already.
“Another time then?” Again, gauging your reaction with intense eyes. You smile and nod, which gets an ever so slight smirk in return.
“Well then, good night.” Without more preamble, Tommy walks towards the stable door. He lights another cigarette, giving you a brief glance while doing so, before slipping out into the night.
----
(Bonus smut that has nothing to say for the plot of you want it)
#tommy shelby x reader#Tommy Shelby#tommy shelby x male!reader#Peaky Blinders#peaky blinders fanfiction#peaky blinders fic#reader#reader insert#written#male!reader#readerinsert#3000
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