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#debating on maybe turning it into a fic idk idk
yeehawhan · 2 years
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a single parent au I drew up because I'm in the need for some angst >:)
Alone.
Well, almost. In caring for his small son, yes, Arthur couldn’t have felt more alone, but the luxury of actually having a few moments to himself was one that didn’t come often to the young brit. He’d met Alfred’s mother in college, the very beginning of his senior year. She was his best friend. They both were business majors, and having most of their classes together led to a quick and strong bond between them. It was right before the end of the fall semester that the pair headed to an off campus party, and one drunken, hardly remembered one night stand later, little Alfred had come into the world. Before he was born, and even in the early months of the pregnancy, he wasn’t sure he wanted to be a father. He wanted to start his own business, grow it into a global superpower. But as time went on, as she began buying clothes, supplies, and talking about what they could do with him, he started to warm up to the idea. Raising a child with his best friend might not be that bad after all. As the months grew closer to nine, he found himself getting excited, thinking of names, bragging to his small group of friends at the time that he was going to be the best dad he possibly could be. Waiting for the day his son came into the world was both the most anxiety inducing and exciting thing he had ever done. Their bags were packed, nursery ready in the apartment to two now shared.
And then everything went wrong.
His mother had to have an emergency c-section, complications Arthur didn’t understand and could hardly process when they told him things had gone wrong, and ushered him out into the waiting room, cutting him off from the two most important people in his life. It was an excruciating four hours, pacing back and forth in the waiting room with the few friends who had come for support watching him, wishing they could help more. His worst fears came true as they came to tell him that she didn’t make it through, but his baby boy was unscathed, and he could see him in a few moments. That was 2 years ago. The two still lived in the same apartment, Arthur wanting to keep memories of her alive so Alfred would know her, at least a little bit. There were a few pictures in the boy’s room, hung on the walls near his crib. Arthur was glad he had his boy, of course, he loved him more than anything, but a part of him still missed her. He never got to see what their life may have become together. He’d never felt so...
Alone. 
Despite everything he gave Alfred the best childhood he could. And with that, the two were busy, busy, busy, going to everything around them that a child would enjoy. Museums, libraries, parks, zoos, everything that Arthur could find for the apple of his eye. Today, he’d found a library doing a small event for local children, a small story time and craft activity that he thought the boy would like. So off they went, bundled up in the crisp English air, Alfred more so than his father. He may as well have been a ball of bubble wrap in his arms, but the sunny little boy didn’t mind. It was only a ten minute walk from their flat, and the warm air of the library was welcoming as he helped the boy get unbundled, hanging their coats together as the boy quickly found the group of children playing while they waited for the event to begin. The elder Brit took a slow, contented breath. Seeing the boy this happy made everything so worth the struggle. He decided that with the small break he had, the children being watched by some attendants, he would peruse the adult fiction section, looking for something he could read while the event was going on. His hands were stuck in his pockets, his slightly oversized tweed jacket bunched up behind him, showing the plain white t-shirt underneath, tucked into his dark trousers, held in place with a simple black belt. He didn’t pay much mind to the few other patrons around him, glancing over the titles of the books in front of him.
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tarmac-rat · 10 months
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TFW you're two weeks removed from leaving your entire life behind and moving to Night City but you're restless and anxious and can't sleep so you sneak out in the dead of night and do something reckless and the only person you know who can fix you up is that old doctor guy your new friend took you to see in a basement last week for back alley chrome and fighting tips.
¯\_(ツ)_/¯
(insp.)
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gorbo-longstocking · 3 months
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sorry to keep posting about my job but [farnsworth voice] great news everyone! im working significantly less hours next week (or according to the schedule i looked at five seconds ago its not up in the app yet) so ill be back on the writing grindset. my preferred grindset.
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Harrenhal au is the best fic ever. I love angsty Ned. Do you plan to write more chapters?
Thank you! I have at least one more fic I want to do in this series and that one will definitely be longer than The Prince, but I don’t know exactly how long or how many chapters it will be. As of now I don’t plan on continuing after that because I don’t know what I would do with it, but if I have good ideas I’m not opposed to writing even more
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nhlclover · 2 months
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tear in my heart | jack hughes
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word count: 2.50k
summary: in need of a date to your cousins wedding your mom suggests you take jack. i mean what could possibly go wrong if you ask your childhood crush to be your date?
warnings: drinking, kissing, maybe one swear word? idk
notes: longest fic i've ever written omg
You sat in your cozy apartment, the soft glow of your phone illuminating the darkened room. It was your mother calling again, the persistent ringtone piercing through the quiet evening. You debated whether to pick up, knowing exactly what the conversation would turn into. Your cousin's wedding was coming up, and your mother's probes about your date—or lack thereof—were becoming increasingly insistent.
Knowing that if you didn’t answer the phone you would be on the receiving end of a passive-aggressive tirade from your mother, you answered.
“Hey, mom.” You said hesitantly.
“Y/n!” She squealed. “I can’t believe my daughter finally answered.”
You rolled your eyes at her attempt at a sly jab, although you didn’t let your tone convey your annoyance. “Sorry, I’ve been busy with work and everything.”
“Oh, of course, I understand.” Your mother said. “Well, I just wanted to chat about your cousin's wedding.”
You audibly groaned. She didn’t even say anything about a date yet, but you knew it was coming. “Mum, we’ve been over this. I’m not bringing a date to Katie’s wedding.”
“Why not, y/n?” She asked.
“I’m not seeing anyone and it would be weird to bring a stranger to her wedding.” You answered. “Plus, Katie said she wanted it to be small. Just people she knew. So I shouldn’t bring a random dude to her wedding.”
There was a beat of silence where you thought you had finally succeeded in getting her to stop nagging about the possibility of a date before she spoke again.
“Why don’t you ask Jack?” She suggested. “He’s such a sweet boy and Katie knows him! It’s perfect!”
“Mum!” You groaned, bringing a hand over your eyes.
“Why not?” She argued.
You hesitated, attempting to scrounge up an excuse. “Mum, I don’t even think he’s in town.”
“He is! I ran into Ellen and Jim a week ago. He and his brothers are in Michigan the whole summer.” She said.
Of course. You hesitated once again. You didn’t necessarily want to bring Jack to the wedding. It's nothing against Jack, but the thought of finding yourself in a romantic situation, or an event celebrating love like a wedding, made your palms sweat.
The pair of you became friends in childhood, attached at the hip through preschool, middle school and high school. Somewhere throughout your friendship, something shifted. His laughter echoed differently and his smile warmed you differently. It became harder and harder for you to deny the fluttering feeling that erupted in your stomach whenever your eyes met.
Your friendship evolved, but for you, it morphed into something more. You yearned for his presence and attention in a way that went well beyond the boundaries of a friendship. However, you kept your feelings buried deep down. You deemed it wasn’t worth the risk of losing a cherished friendship for the possibility of something more.
So, you continued to mask your true feelings behind a facade of platonic feelings, convinced it was enough to bask in his friendship.
“Fine.” You say reluctantly, knowing that if you didn’t ask him, your mom would end up asking him on your behalf. Your mother cheers with joy, then proceeds to fill you in on hometown gossip. The call ends an hour later, closing with her reminding you to call Jack.
──
Jack's contact sat open on your screen, your thumb hovering over the call button. The prospect of being in a romantic situation, especially at an event celebrating love like a wedding, sent a shiver down your spine and caused your palms to break out in a nervous sweat. However, you had to do it. Because if you didn’t, then your mother would be meddling in your love life, which was less than appealing.
You clicked the button, bringing your phone to your ear. The incessant ringing was like a lifeline, offering you a brief pause from the pressure of the moment, until finally, his familiar voice pierced through the silence, filling your ears with warmth and familiarity.
“Hey wassup y/n?” He asked. For a moment you’re taken aback by a rush of emotions.
“H-hey!” You said, forcing your voice to sound cheery, despite your nerves. “I have a question for you.”
“What’s up?” He says
“I was wondering if you wanted to be my date for a wedding?” You ask.
There was a beat of silence and your heartbeat picked up its pace. You decided to speak before Jack could give you an answer.
“It’s for my cousin Katie’s wedding and my mom has been on my ass about bringing a date, and I didn’t want to bring a random guy cause Katie’s been adamant about it being a small wedding of just people she knows and I-”
“Y/n?” Jack interrupted, his tone gentle but firm.
“Yeah?” You say softly.
“I’d love to be your date.” He says. Jack’s words washed over you like a wave of relief, sending a rush of warmth flooding through your veins.
“You would?” You say, slightly surprised.
“Yeah, of course. When’s the wedding?” He asked.
“Uhm, it’s August 3rd.” You tell him.
There’s another beat of silence as Jack checks his schedule. “You are in luck because I’m free.” Jack says. You let Jack know a few more details before hanging up. As the call ended, your stomach still fluttered with nerves, a strange mixture of excitement and anticipation swirling within you. Now, you were just counting down the days until the wedding.
──
You paced back and forth in the small room, checking the time every few seconds, waiting for the clock to hit 3:45. That was when you and Jack were supposed to head down to the ceremony venue. You had been ready for at least eight minutes now, nervously pacing as you awaited the knock.
With a knock on your hotel door, you grab your clutch, take a deep breath, and open the door. Jack is standing on the other side, wearing his dress clothes. He opens his mouth to speak but pauses as his eyes scan your figure and the gown you were wearing that accentuated your features. His eyes widened and, for a moment, he seemed at a loss for words.
“You… look amazing.” He stammers, cheeks flushing lightly.
You had to suppress the wide grin that was tugging on your lips. “Thanks.” You replied, a blush creeping onto your cheeks. “Shall we go?”
Jack sticks out his arm, hooking yours into his, and heading down to the lobby to get in your awaiting Uber. As you enter the venue, you admire the flowers and other decor your cousin had chosen to decorate the chapel.
“Y/n!” You hear your mother shriek. You turn to the doors, seeing your mother walking hand in hand with your father.
“Hi, mama.” You say. Only when you separate do you realize that you and Jack have been arm-in-arm with one another since you left the hotel.
They greet Jack, your mom shooting you a not-so-subtle wink as he shakes hands with your dad. You roll your eyes, trying to usher Jack away from your parents and to your seats. The ceremony passes in a blur of smiles and whispered conversations. You and Jack stole glances at each other whenever you thought the other wasn't looking, your hearts racing with unspoken feelings.
At the reception, you find yourselves on the dance floor nearly the whole time. You two are by no means the best of dancers, in fact far from it. You dance opposite each other, tossing out your best moves, laughing at the other's best attempt at staying on rhythm. You knew you were embarrassing yourselves, but your spirits were high, fueled by the several flutes of champagne you’d both consumed.
You’re The One That I Want played, Jack and you dancing. Jack spins you out before pulling you back. You laugh as you trip over your own feet, stumbling into his arms. The pair of you laugh in sync as you stumble off the dancefloor.
“Man, we are bad dancers.” Jack laughs.
“I think I stepped on your feet multiple times.” You say, trying to catch your breath.
The song morphs into ‘Crazy Love’ by Van Morrisson, with couples flocking to the dance floor. You were going to take the opportunity of a slow song playing to get another drink and rest your feet after dancing the whole evening thus far. Just as you move to step away, there’s a gentle hand on her arm.
“Do you… would you like to dance?” Jack asks softly. His eyes search your face for any signs of hesitation.
Surprise washed over you, mingled with a hint of relief. You hadn’t expected him to ask you to dance to a slow song. You came to this wedding as friends after all. But, there was a part of you that was silently hoping throughout the whole reception that Jack would ask you to dance.
“Of course.” You reply, smiling gently.
Jack extended a hand, drawing you to the dancefloor. As the two of you stepped onto the dancefloor, it was as if the rest of the world floated away, leaving the two of you in an isolated moment. The unfamiliar feeling of Jack’s hand on your waist sends tingles down your spine. As you swayed to the music together, the distance between the two of you disappeared till there was barely an inch separating your bodies.
Looking up at his face, a small smile tugs on his lips. His eyes flicker across your face, landing on your lips.
The voice of Van Morrisson ends and ‘Sweet Caroline’ by Neil Diamond begins to play, ripping the pair of you from your moment of bliss. Your arms falter from one another.
Suddenly, your mom is by Jack’s side, saying that people want to meet your date. Jack is whisked away and put into conversation with your aunt. He shoots you a brief glance, eyes portraying a bit of nervousness. You can only chuckle at him and leave him to deal with the combination that is your mom and aunt.
“Hey there y/n/n.” Says Katie, sidling up to you.
“Katie!” You beamed, arms wrapping around your cousin. “You look so beautiful, I’m so happy for you two.”
She thanks you, flashing a bright smile. “So… Tell me about the boy that your mom seems to think is about to become her son-in-law.”
“Oh my god.” You roll your eyes. “That’s Jack, he’s just a friend.”
You explain the situation to her, receiving a skeptical eye when you finish explaining. “That is not what it looks like. For both of you.”
You push down a smile, looking towards Jack who is engrossed in conversation with your mom. And in that moment, as you watched him laughing and joking with your family, you couldn't deny the truth that lay beneath the surface. Your feelings for Jack ran deep. With every passing moment that you spent with Jack, they got stronger and stronger.
As the night wore on, you kept dancing, mingling with your family. Your laughter and smiles maintained the facade that there was nothing more to your feelings.
Finally, you and Jack hit your limits, feeling on the verge of passing out from exhaustion. You bid goodnights to the remaining guests, deciding to do the short walk to the hotel. Still donning your heels and under the influence of several glasses of champagne, you found yourself tripping over the uneven concrete.
Jack slips his hand into yours, stabilizing you. “I don’t need you bashing your face on the concrete.”
As you walked, hand in hand, conversation flowed easily between the two of you. You made your way into the hotel and up to your floor. Standing in between your respective doors, you find yourself reluctant to let go, your fingers still intertwined with his.
“Thank you again for coming, it meant a lot.” You say, “And thank you for dealing with my mom, I’m sorry for whatever she and my aunt said to you.”
Jack chuckles, shaking his head. “I had fun, I’m glad you invited me.” He says.
You wrap your arms around his torso, giving a quick squeeze. As you separate, Jack's fingers linger on your waist briefly, giving you hope that maybe this wasn’t goodnight. Despite that, he reaches into his pants pocket, pulls out his key card and heads into his room.
“Night.” You say over your shoulder, stepping into your room and shutting the door behind you.
You huffed, tossing your clutch onto the bed. Now alone in your room, you found yourself unable to shake the memory of your shared dance. The feeling of Jack’s hand on your waist still tingling on your skin. Meanwhile, across the hall, Jack couldn't shake the image of you from his thoughts, your laughter echoing in his ears and her presence filling the empty space around him.
Unable to resist the pull any longer, you found yourself drawn to the door, your heart pounding in your chest as you crossed the hallway to Jack's room. Before you could second-guess yourself, you raised your hand and knocked softly on the door, your pulse racing with anticipation.
Jack opens the door, brows furrowing at the sight of you. He had abandoned his tie, dress shirt fully unbuttoned. You glanced at his torso briefly, but Jack caught the glimpse. Your words get caught in your throat and you blurt out the only words that were coming to mind.
“I’m stuck.” You say.
Jack cocks his head to the side, leaning against the door frame.
“M-my dress.” You clarify. “I can’t reach the zipper, can you help?”
Jack clears his throat. “Oh, uh, yeah.”
You turn around, sweeping your hair over your shoulder so that Jack can access the zipper. You feel him slowly tug on the zipper, the fabric separating and exposing your bare back inch by inch. The fabric parts, teasingly revealing the soft contours of your skin. The opening stops just before your hips, leaving Jack on edge.
“You’re good.” Jack breathes. You turn around, the distance between you and Jack now only mere inches, Jack’s breath getting caught in his throat as your eyes meet.
Without a word, Jack’s hand is on your cheek, meeting your lips. His kiss is delicate at first, apprehensive as he is unsure how you feel. Your heart thundered in your chest, melting into Jack's embrace. His hands go to your waist as yours go to his hair, your fingers tangling in his soft waves. Despite being in an unfamiliar situation, you find his lips comforting and surrender yourself to the moment.
Jack reaches for the straps on your shoulders, sliding them off and letting the top of your dress fall down your chest. His hands slide onto your bare torso, lifting you slightly, and allowing you to hook your legs around his waist. He walks you briefly to the door, shutting it and cutting the rest of the world out.
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lomlhwa · 3 months
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get out of my head (c.yj)
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pairing: soulmate!yeonjun x soulmate!reader
preview: when you turn 18, you can hear your soulmate's voice in your head. you have to work to find each other, no matter the distance.
tags/warnings: fem reader, ITALICS IS YEONJUN IN READER'S HEAD + BOLD IS READER TALKING BACK TO YEONJUN, lots of dirty talk, monster cock!yeonjun (it's me, what do you expect), oral (m.receiving), face fucking, crying, pussy slapping, pet names (baby, pretty girl, good girl), unprotected penetration (wrap it before you tap it), creampie
trigger warnings: n/a
wc: 1.6k
song recs for this fic: yes, and? by ariana grande, 3d by jungkook, nonesense by sabrina carpenter
a/n: hey guys.... it's been a long time T-T hope you didn't forget about me. this is my first time writing a fic in a WHILE. hope you like it and i hope to post more maybe idk
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“3! 2! 1! happy birthday!” your friends cry out at midnight on your birthday. you blow out the glowing candles on your birthday cake eagerly. you make a silent wish for your soulmate to be hot. 
your friends look at you expectantly. “has he said anything?” one of them says. you shake your head. your brain is still dead silent. no soulmate talking to you. “it is literally midnight, so he could be sleeping,” you shrug. your friends murmur among themselves as you slink down your chair.
“hellooo? anyone there yet?” a male voice appears in your head and you jump at the sound. your friends look at you concerned. “hello?” you sit in silence for a moment again, your friends remain unmoving. “fucking finally. took you long enough to turn 18.” you laugh and your friends relax. 
“he sounds pretty,” you say to your friends. they shake their heads. you’re the last one out of your friends to turn 18, therefore you’re the last one to hear your soulmate. your friends have been with their soulmates for months at this point. 
“my bad, i have a late birthday,” you respond to the voice in your head. your friends disperse through your house to let you talk to your soulmate for a few moments. 
“what’s your name? mine’s yeonjun. are you pretty? where do you live” you chew on your bottom lip while you listen to him talk to you. “my name is y/n,” your leg bounces as you answer the first question. “my friends think i’m pretty,” you add. 
you stay silent, debating if you should tell him exactly where you live or just the general area. saying you live ‘around seoul’ is too broad though. “well? where do you live?” you shake your head and just decide to give him the general area. 
“i live in busan.”
________________________________________
you stand outside a cafe nervously checking your phone every minute. you’re waiting for yeonjun. you’re meeting your soulmate. how terrifying. 
“i’m almost there. are you outside?” you jump when his voice rings out in your head. you’re still not used to having a whole other person in your head.
“yeah, i’m just waiting,” you lean against the wall behind you and observe your surroundings. yeonjun picked a really cute cafe to meet at. you watch as people walk mindlessly past you.
you look down at your phone until you hear yeonjun’s voice again. “what color are you wearing?” you look down at your outfit before replying. “pink.”
before you can say anything else, you feel a presence in front of you. you look up and make eye contact with one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen. he gives you a smile that lights up his entire face. 
“y/n.” it’s his voice. it’s his voice but outside your head. he’s in front of you. your mouth hangs agape as you realize this beautiful man is your soulmate. you flatten your hair and smooth out your outfit before you speak. “yeonjun.” 
________________________________________
before you know it, you’re back at his place with your back crashed against his front door. your date didn’t last long. he wanted you as soon as he saw you.
“you’re so fucking perfect,” his lips are attached to yours. being able to speak to each other telepathically really comes in handy when your mouth is otherwise occupied. 
his hands grip your hips and guide them to grind against him. he groans into your mouth. you can feel his hardening length through his jeans. it’s huge. 
“are you big?” you feel him smile against your lips at the question.
he grabs your hand and drags you towards his bedroom. “does the pretty girl wanna find out?” yeonjun says before pushing you down onto his bed. he stands between your legs, just looking at you. your face turns bright red under his dominant gaze. he’s basically fucking you with his eyes. 
“shirt.” his voice is commanding and you find your hands moving with a mind of their own to take your shirt off. you throw it on the floor next to his bed. you’re left in your pretty white bra and your pretty pink skirt. 
“fuck, so pretty,” his voice in your head makes you blush. he hasn’t even touched you yet and your panties are practically soaked through. 
he trails his big hands up your thighs, lifting your skirt in the process. he licks his lips at the sight of your soaked panties. he runs his long index finger over the wet patch, causing your hips to jerk. 
“you’re soaked. i haven’t even done anything, baby.” yeonjun’s tone is full of fake pity.
out of nowhere, he grabs you by the hips and forces you onto the floor. you’re on your knees in front of him. the tent in his pants is massive and you can tell that it probably feels unbearable. 
he undoes his belt and pulls his jeans down to his knees. he pulls his boxers down the same length and his cock flies out. it almost smacks you in the face. you look at it in pure shock. how is this natural?
“suck,” he orders. your jaw falls open and you welcome his length into your mouth. you take it slow and steady to try and prep your throat for his monster cock. you can tell that he’s getting impatient within just a few moments.
“please let me fuck your mouth, pretty girl.” the question sets something off in you and you feel like you would do anything for him. you stop all your ministrations and go limp. “do it.”
yeonjun gathers all your hair into a ponytail and uses it to move your head back and forth. you open your throat as much as you can but you could never manage to take all of him. there’s just too much.
his hips snap to meet the movements his making with your head. you cough and choke around him. saliva drips out of your mouth and onto the floor, creating a puddle. your eyes water and threaten to ruin your makeup. 
you look up at him with teary eyes and you can tell that he’s close, even through your blurry vision. “cum down my throat, jjunie.” your words in his head mixed with your teary gaze causes him to finish almost immediately. you choke a final time before he pulls out and watches you swallow. 
he lifts you off the ground with a foreign softness compared to his length in your throat. he lays you down and wastes no time in removing your panties. he leaves your skirt and bra, finding them particularly cute. 
he forces your legs apart to full take in your glistening pussy. he runs his palm over it before bringing his hand down and slapping it. you squeak, jerking back. your pussy continues to drip, so he does it again. 
“jun, please, need you,” you whine. your legs close to try and keep him from bringing his hand down again. tears well in your eyes out of the desperate need for pleasure. your core is throbbing.
yeonjun pries your knees apart and settles between your thighs, his cock brushing your core. “are you ready, baby? can you take it?” your eyes flicker down to his member, slight fear coursing through you. you nod hesitantly.
he brings his hand down to stroke himself before lining up with your weeping hole. “deep breaths pretty girl.” he pushes his cock in slowly, inch by inch. the stretch is painfully intoxicating. your eyes cross as he bottoms out.
“baby, breathe,” yeonjun says. you had been holding your breath while he pushed into you. you breathe sharply, trying to keep yourself from falling apart on his cock immediately.
“please, move jjunie,” you beg. you dig your nails into his forearms as he pulls all the way out and slams back in, balls slapping against your ass. you choke out a moan, throwing your head back into his pillow. 
“you suck me in so beautifully,” his voice rings out in your mind through the buzz of pleasure. you look at him to find his mouth slightly open, whines of pleasure escaping. his sweaty hair hangs over his eyes deliciously. you could cum just from seeing him like this. 
you clench around him, pleasure building up quickly. his fast pace thrusting into you has your mind going numb. you remove your hands from his forearms and grab him by the hair, forcing his lips to yours. he meets you in a feverish kiss, his thrusts becoming sloppier.
“i’m gonna cum, please fill me up jun,” you run your tongue over his bottom lip as he nods in acknowledgement. you wrap your legs around his waist as he uses your hole to get off.
your arms fall limp on the bed by your head and yeonjun takes the opportunity to hold your hands with his. he intertwines his fingers with yours in an attempt to ground himself.
“c-cum-” you stutter as your walls close in on him for a final time before you hit your high. he finishes immediately after you, your clenching becoming too much for him. his hips stutter and he lets out a high pitched whine as he spurts white hot cum into you. 
you pant, trying to catch your breath. you squeeze his hands gently. he collapses onto you, nuzzling his face into your neck. you brush your hair out of your face, finding that it’s sticking to your forehead.
“you’re so fucking perfect,” he whispers before kissing your neck gently. you giggle, biting your swollen bottom lip.
“my perfect soulmate.”
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© lomlhwa 2024
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sukunasweetheart · 1 month
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I was rereading some of your fics and got inspired so please hear me out🙏
Reader being college!sukunas pretty little gf but going through a bit of a insecure phase. Having to wonder if sukuna using her for her body. While also having to endure people trying to flirt with him at every party (sukuna has never and would never flirt or cheat but since reader is going through something, she's obviously bothered)
This continues for a few weeks, reader brings it up but sukuna always gets annoyed and shuts it down(Sukuna and reader both not knowing how to efficiently communicate). Reader's insecurity is kind of building up😕 so atp shes debating whether to break up with him because shes just so tired of feeling like she's not enough.
One night reader gets drunk during a night out with maki and nobara so they have to call him to go pick her up. Sukunas kind of mad since she hasn't called or texted him all day so he calls her out on it while driving home. Reader being a emotional drunk decides its the perfect time to unleash how she feels. Sukuna listens to her and starts worrying when reader very briefly mentions a break up. So when they get home sukuna gets her to spill the beans before she knocks out. Meanwhile sukuna spends all night thinking about how to reassure reader that he loves her (he doesn't want to lose her😭)
Next morning reader wakes up in his arms and he tells her he wants to talk about what happened last night now that shes sober. So they have a serious talk about it (tears were definitely shed)
Edit: THIS WRITING WAS GNARLY IM SO SORRY😭i had a vision but i couldn't put it into words correctly. i gave up near the end but i kind of just wanted to hear your thoughts😖
AWWWW THIS IS SO ADORABLE FR
i love the angst and happy ending, always 😘😘😘 it hurts so good </3 just them being so unsure of each other and what to do, even if its clear that they both are so deeply in love <3
very relevant angst bc someone like sukuna would find it very difficult to understand what it feels to be insecure... it makes you wonder how much patience he could have for someone who is intensely insecure (me)
anyway i can imagine drunk reader being a sobbing, bumbling mess when shes at home with him, talking in a way thats barely comprehensible, weeping in between sentences and sukuna just not knowing what to do with you except wipe your tears away (he'd call you cute if you weren't actually so upset) but then you mention that maybe its better off if the two of you break up, which wipes the smile off his face
imagine him wracking his brains at night while he observes your sleeping face, not knowing what to do... he'd never thought that what he was doing now wasn't enough in making you feel secure with him and that he was making you so unhappy
maybe what you need is more verbal affirmation, bc sukuna is so action oriented, he realises he doesn't nearly as often tell you that he loves you and only uses gestures to show it instead.
idk this might be corny but imagine you and him practicing saying 'i love you' while sitting face to face, holding hands, and for the first time you see his ears get pink, its certainly not something he says often. you bursting into laughter at the stiff way he says it makes him even more bashful.
"stop fucking laughing! it's your turn now, hurry up."
but when you say it, it sounds so natural and genuine and sweet, even when you're saying it in between laughs. it makes him wonder how you're doing it.
anyway, seeing sukuna's ears get so pink and seeing how awkward he is for a change, is strangely healing to you and probably helps you gain some confidence back bc who else could incur such feelings in him other than you?? especially when he usually has such an idgaf attitude :)
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koolades-world · 3 months
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Hello is hug deprived anon again (this might be becoming my name oh no) and I’ve had an idea
I’m sure we can all agree that mammon deserves all the love, especially because his brothers are too mean to him, they pretend they don’t love him too constantly
So, what if Mammon is away for a week, doing photoshoots or dealing with witches or something, and MC is moping because they miss him,, like, they keep turning to their side to whisper to him and then like deflating when they see no Mammon,, and like, reaching out on that side to hold his hand and then being confused when there’s nothing there, and then they realize :( maybe they stole his blanket from his room because it smells like him, so it’s the best substitute for Mammon hugs while he’s away
Maybe Beel (idk if any of the other bros would be nice enough to tell him) is texting him like “your human is too sad come back soon” and sending him pictures of MC doing this stuff
When Mammon returns MC jumps on him for hugs like “you’re home!!!!!”
Idk I think he’d cry
I think he would feel very loved and probably also cry abt it
What you think? What do you think he’d do?
(If you choose not to write anything about this no worries obviously) (but I eventually might lol I think it’d be very cute and make him very happy to have someone who really misses him when he’s away)
HI!! haha if you want and plan to request more, feel free to pick an anon name! or I could just call you something like hug LOL
wayyy back when I first got into obey me in like 2021, there was this one specific fic I read kind of similar to his idea where mammon was upset at be mistreated and mc stood up for him and it was this cute bonding moment, and this request kinda reminded me of that!! gonna try to channel it a little bit
this idea is literally so cute and I'd be happy to write it! it makes my brain like a cat who has the zoomies hehe enjoy :D
How Ironic
You watched agonizingly as the clock ticked by even slower than usual. You'd been trying to do some sort of work, or anything other than stare at the damned clock forever now, but you just couldn't focus.
It had been exactly four days, six hours, and fifteen minutes and counting since Mammon had left for a week long promotional photoshoot in another ring of hell. You had your sad, but sweet send off and you promise yourself that time apart might be good for you. After all, it always felt like you could never get anything done with Mammon around. Yet, here you were, staring blankly at a clock with a blank piece of paper and pen in front of you.
Finally deciding to throw in the towel for now, you got up from your desk in your room. A walk to a local convivence store was in order. Snacks and fresh air wasn't a combo you could pass up. On your way out, you passed the door to his room which was slightly ajar. You briefly had the thought to poke your head in and ask him if he wanted to come, before remembering that he wouldn't be in there. You continued your walk to the front door, where you put on your shoes and grabbed a bag that had a few necessities in it for the short journey.
Thankfully, you hadn't passed any of his brothers on the way there, meaning you didn't have to explain yourself or have them ask to tag along. While you enjoyed their company, they weren't Mammon. If you needed help, you could always summon one of them thanks to the pacts, but you needed this short walk to clear your head.
The air was unfortunately stifling and overly humid outside, making you glad you were dressed light. It was basically just your pajamas but when you went out with Mammon, the two of you did this every time. As you autopiloted to your favorite corner store, your thoughts wandered back to Mammon again. You wondered how he was doing and if he missed being at home. You couldn't blame him if he didn't and hoped he was enjoying his time away from home as much as you wished he was by your side.
Once you got to the store, you wandered around for a bit, debating what to get. After grabbing a small basket, you began to pile in various things that sounded good. Once the basket was full, you came to the realization that all the snacks were Mammon's favorites; hell sauce flavored instant noodles, Chaos Devil Cider and ginger ale to mix, Devilbee honey popcorn, and a variety pack of Devildom gummies. This is what he introduced you to the first time you did a snack run together. You decided, in light of this discovery, to buy extras for him for when he got back. You figured he would enjoy it and it was the least you could do to thank him for introducing you to so many tasty things you would've not tried otherwise. Once you checked out, you returned back to the House of Lamentation with a new skip in your step.
You made your way back up to your room, and passed the ajar door of Mammon's room again. Memories of the two of you together flooded back again, and you couldn't help but step in. Just being in his room was like he was really right next to you again. You couldn't help but sit on his sofa and think about how much you missed him even though it hadn't even been a full week. His absence made you realize how much you missed his presence. After a moment, you decide to leave the snacks you bought for him on his bedside table so his brothers were less likely to wander in and find them before him.
As you were setting down everything you'd gotten for him, you something caught your eye just about to fall off the end of his bed. After you picked it off the edge of his bed, you realized it was the hoodie he always wore around the house. It was faded from lots of usage and the strings were fraying. You knew it smelt like his cologne and his shampoo from all of the tight embraces he'd given you while wearing it. You for sure thought he would've taken it with him, but it looked as if he had thrown it off last minute and thrown it on his bed without looking back.
Looking around as if someone might be watching (which could very well be the case since Lucifer was notoriously quiet), you pulled it to your chest and deeply inhaled. Of course, there was the chance that it was dirty, but you couldn't care less. It wasn't anything you hadn't seen of him before. Since there really wasn't anything stopping you, you took it back to your room with you. You weren't even really that cold, in all honesty. It was more of the idea that he was right next to you since it smelt just like him.
You continued your night like you had before you left, just with his hoodie on. You were magically much more productive wearing it and you managed to get several things done. Usually, you would be chatting with Mammon on the phone at about this time to talk about how your days were, but he was unfortunately busy with something work related. Instead, you decided to send him a sweet goodnight text and send a picture of your set up with the food and the show you've been watching one episode at a time. Not expecting a response before you called it a night, you turn your phone off and focused on eating and watching tv.
Beel wasn't sure what woke him up first: his stomach or Mammon blowing up his phone. Sitting up in his bed, he peered at his screen, squinting at it. He had at least twenty texts from his brother asking him to check on Mc for him after they hadn't responded to his texts. He wasn't sure if Mammon knew they were probably asleep or if he was just worrying for no reason. Either way, he decided to check on them for him anways. After his kitchen run, of course.
After letting Mammon know, he got out of bed and left his room. On his way to the kitchen, however, he ended up following the smell of cup noodles to Mc's room. There, he was able to complete both of his missions. He snapped a picture of Mc fast asleep with a couple half finished snacks, then took the snacks. Mission complete.
Mammon was only halfway through the only kind of dumb business dinner when he spammed Beel about Mc. He was more worried than he would admit to himself about them. He knew it was probably nothing and that they had fallen asleep, but Beel was usually awake at this time eating anyways. The food was nice and he was the star of the show, but the dinner was much too stifling for his taste. Most importantly, it was cutting into his precious time with Mc, something he looked forward to at the end of every day. He loved getting to hear their voice after being away from them for so long. He missed getting to see them in person, but getting to hear them was next best.
As he was poking at his food, he finally got the response he was waiting hand and foot on. Beel had responded with just an image at first, so he scrambled to open it. He breathed a sigh of relief. It was a picture of his beloved Mc fast asleep in their bed. You looked so peaceful but your face was barely visible because of the hood pulled up over your eyes. After squinting, he realized the hoodie you were wearing looked oddly familiar. He realized that that was his hoodie, the one he'd left on his bed when he was late the morning he left.
He could barely contain his excitement and it must had been evident on his face since those around him glanced at him, and then between each other a few times. He saved the photo to his phone, and texted Beel back a thanks. As everyone talked around him, he debating asking to leave the shoot early right then and there. If he left right now, he would be able to make it home before you woke up. While he entertained this thought for a while, eventually he decided to stick it out since there were only a few days left. As soon as he was allowed to leave, however, he would buy you something with the paycheck he'd be given. Something nice, maybe a gold bracelet that would remind you of him when you see it. He spent the rest of the night thinking, then dreaming about you. He could only hope you were doing the same. (you were <3)
After those final two and a half agonizing days and many texts later, it was finally time for Mammon to return home. For now, he decided to leave his car parked just outside the house, since he may or may not have been planning to take you out to dinner later that day. As soon as he walked in the door, one of his suitcases in tow, something, or rather someone, attacked him with a flying hug. At first, he was processing the situation as Mc began to squeal and squeeze him as tight as they could into a hug. He wasn't really sure where they had come from, but he knew who it was as soon as their arms were around him.
"MAMMON!" Mc swung the both of them around, buzzing with excitement. "Diavolo, I missed you so much. I don't want to let go of you. If you don't take me with you next time, I might die of sadness and loneliness!" Their arms were around his neck, and their face in his chest. He finally let go of his suitcase and hugged them back. He held them close, shutting his eyes for a moment to take it all in.
"I missed ya too. 's good to be back." He, again, couldn't stop the smile from growing on his face. His brothers never expressed themselves the way Mc was to him in that moment, so he wasn't quite sure how to feel. They never seemed excited to see him, so it was so refreshing to see Mc visibly excited and made him feel truly loved. All their time apart was worth moments like these.
As MC was squealing, a few of his brothers began to gather around the foyer around them. Perhaps they heard them, or maybe they knew he'd be back today at around this time. Either way, he waved at them, still keeping an arm around Mc.
"Guys! Mammon is back." Mc nuzzled his neck, still holding onto him.
"We can see that." Belphie remarked, sounding unamused. Mammon's smile faded a little. So, they didn't care that he was back, did they? He should've expected that from them. Actually, they probably wished he'd been gone for longer with the way they treated him sometimes.
"I talked to you guys about this. I don't expect you to do what I'm doing, but you need to show him you're happy he's back. You can't lie, he's irreplaceable! I don't know what I'd do without him, and I missed him so much." Just like that, Mc's words lifted him back up. Suddenly, he was no longer upset that his brothers didn't care. He had the attention and care from the person he thought about the entire time he was gone. "Shame on you all. Don't expect me to talk to you for the next few days. Let's get your things from the car, and go upstairs. We have so much to catch up on!" Mc only let go of his neck to grab his hand instead. They dragged him back out of the house, shutting the door with their foot behind the two of them.
"Mc, ya didn't have to do all that fer me..." Mammon glanced back at the shut door. His brothers didn't open it, or try to follow them.
"But I did! You're my first man, after all. I really can't express how much I missed you and just saying it doesn't feel like enough." They reached into the trunk of his car to begin taking out his suitcases. Mammon moved them aside gently, not wanting them to do even more for him that he felt as if he didn't deserve.
Mammon was silent for a moment, then decided to go digging through his backpack for the bracelet he'd bought for you. He hoped it would make it easier to tell you how he felt. "Here, this is fer you." He presented the small, black box to them. Looking caught off guard, they accepted it and opened it carefully. Your mouth dropped open as you saw the golden piece of jewelry he bought for you on the drive back.
"Mammon! This is beautiful. Thank you so much! But, I don't understand why. What's the occasion?" You removed it from the box and held it up to the light to study it. Several small charms hung off of it.
"That's the thing. There isn't one." He took a deep breath and looked down at his feet before continuing. "I just... yer so good to me. Ya texted me daily, called me daily, thought about me while I was gone, and even waited fer me like that so ya could surprise me when I got back. Ya care, and I know I'm not the best with showin' I care and it makes me feel shitty. Thank you, fer everythin'. I really missed ya." He couldn't see how Mc reacted, but was essentially tackled into another hug again by them.
"Mams, you show me you care in little ways. Just because you don't say it, doesn't mean that you don't. You just being back here with me is more than enough." He immediately thought about how ironic the entire situation was. He never actually told them how he felt and treated them like garbage sometimes, and he thought it might've been pushing the person he cared for most away, but really, he never had to worry about that. he'd never considered that they could see past his inability to admit his feelings. He hugged them back, savoring the moment since this time they were alone.
"Thank you Mc." He held back happy tears.
"No, thank you! Thank you for always being by my side. Now, instead of actually unpacking, let's just lock the car and sneak back inside. Maybe they'll eventually feel sorry and come looking for us, but we'll actually be hiding right under their noses. It'll be like a spy mission." Mc giggled leaning back to see his face. Mammon let them look him in the eyes, glistening tears and all.
"Yeah, let's do that. We can watch that movie ya wanted to watch and just share headphones." He found himself joining in with the quiet laughing along to something he wasn't sure either of them really understood. Something he did understand however, was that he knew he was loved back by the one he loved the most, and couldn't ask for more.
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randomsufff · 6 months
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I’m back Michie girlies and this has been on the dome for a while but I’ve been seeing people mention it and at least one fic has executed this idea (“I once was his tutor” I salute you 🫡) but I need to just present this idea anyways because it has COOKED for a while-
I think it would be absolutely fucking hilarious if Max had started treating Richie the way he did Grace. Like the whole, dumb himbo act where he laughs real hard at non-jokes and tries to rizz Richie up as he’s going to class.
In my head- this is connected to the “Richie tutors Max” universe, so in my mind- Richies been helping him out and he’s been getting to know the guy, Max either: 1) eventually realizes how much of a capital P Prude Grace is OR (the funnier option I think) 2) Grace, in her want to get thoughts of Max Jäegerman out of her head, goes so far in the opposite direction that she somehow accidentally sleeps with a woman and is no longer “forbidden fruit” as Max puts it. (Insert side story of Grace battling internalized homophobia as she developed a friends-with-benefits turned maybe actual relationship with…. idk Deb or Alice or someone.) Cue Max looking at Richie and being like “I can totally seduce this nerd, my skills aren’t lacking just because I couldn’t get Grace.. this is 100% not me subconsciously really liking the dude and wanting to genuinely date him and knowing no other way to outwardly express this”
ANYWAYS- point is I need Max to try to flirt with Richie in that himbo way that he did with Grace-and I need Richie “This projects on thermodynamics… what the fuck are you talking about???” Lipshitz to just be constantly confused on what’s happening to him.
AND THEN when he finally realizes that Max is trying to get with him, I need Mr. Richie “has definitely never been with or slept with anyone and is just as unhinged and horny as Ruth (need I remind you she said Stephanie was the object of both their sexual fantasies)” Lipshitz to look at Max, really debate over it, before going “I may not have standards but I, unfortunately, have morals” and that he couldn’t do anything with Max since he was… well…his and his friends bully for years.
Boom, kick start the redemption arc that starts with Max just wanting to sleep with Richie but shifts to genuinely wanting to date him and trying to open up/clean up his act.
(Also- to add to that ‘“Dirty Girl Soup” Richie version’ concept that I’ve seen somewhere- I think it would be so fucking funny if Max’s equivalent to this, scandalous, forbidden, sexual fantasy was just Richie being the most supportive, understanding and healthiest boyfriend ever. Just accidentally fantasizing them in the most domestic situation ever (you know, because it goes against his Literal Monster persona). Like Richie’s, i don’t fucking know, holding his hand as they get coffee together and is just so understanding and calming when Max attempts to bully this fantasy Richie, and Max-who is just swimming in toxic masculinity (but is super ok in knowing he’s bi. As people say- he’s an actual asshole but he will bully you using your correct pronouns damnit)- is just like “NO, what are these feelings??? Why do I feel like this??? This is so wrong… but why does this feel… actually nice???” Yeah… funny shit)
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mixelation · 17 days
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i went into the itasaku tag and there's a lot of art of them with minato. (if you just went WTF WHY? it's because in the big favorite character poll that happened semi recently, they're the top 3 favorite characters.) anyway obviously i started to go "hmmm could that ship WORK though"
here is what i have so far
itachi and sakura accidentally time travel directly into the middle of the third shinobi war. this forces an unlikely team-up thing for survival.
i think itachi is so committed to his villain bit he would rather fuck himself over royally than team up with sakura. sakura is SLIGHTLY more likely to play nice but still needs dire circumstances as motivation. so maybe: they end up immediately in enemy territory with their konoha headband (sakura) and uchiha eyes (itachi) and become immediate targets. suddenly sakura is like "hey i need you to kill everyone" and instead of doing that itachi coughs up blood. she can point him at enemies though and he'll genjutsu them and that works great. like this
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so sakura is like "okay i need your help as a more experienced ninja for my own survival" bc yeah sakura is a badass, but she's never had to go on the run before or fight more than a handful of ninja at once. meanwhile itachi is breathing better than he has in years after one (1) session with sakura and suddenly a temporary team up seems like a great idea. like yes he wants sasuke to kill him but in order for that to happen he needs to live long enough to un-time travel himself.
however. neither of them have any idea what's happening. they get into stupid nerd fights over details of historical events. they cite publications at each other. frequently it turns out both of them are wrong. they also argue over whether or not they should seek help from konoha
sakura: you don't have to TELL the uchiha you murder them all in the future???? just use your fancy eyes to legitimize being an uchiha so they believe us!
itachi: (silent internal emoting)
meanwhile jiraiya has picked up on the most INSANE rumors of a tsunade impersonator smashing forests and mountains and shit. she may or may not have an even worse orochimaru impersonator with her. jiraiya sends minato to investigate.
there's a lot of fanboy debate over if minato could beat itachi in a fight. and for the purposes of this fic, i'm going to say: yes, yes he can. and it's incredibly upsetting for both itachi AND sakura
minato, to sakura, while sitting on itachi: okay so if you ARE an impersonator, your tsunade costume is really bad
sakura: (TERRIFIED SILENT SCREAMING?)
minato: but your jutsu impersonation is pretty spot on.....?
minato: (looks down between his knees at itachi) did you do that with your..... sharingan....... mr. uchiha bastard?
itachi: (has never been more confused in his life. he's never lost a fight this bad. he assumed losing a fight this bad would mean he'd die. he's not confused about being called a bastard though. that just happens.)
then idk. maybe they tell minato they're time travelers and he takes them back to jiraiya. the mood is very "minato is strong and hot and friendly. this is both sakura and itachi's type they didn't know they had. but also. help."
jiraiya: hmmm well, this one's obviously an uchiha, but YOU need to prove you're really tsunade-hime's apprentice. tell me...... what are her measurements
sakura: (pulverizes a boulder with her bare fist) does that answer your question or should i demonstrate on something else ( :
jiraiya: wow it's a mini-tsunade no further questions!!!!
i think i want minato to be in the 18-19 range so it's right around the time of itachi's birth. they decide itachi and sakura shouldn't go to konoha to reduce time travel shenanigans, such as accidentally preventing their own births. it seems like itachi would especially be at risk for butterfly effecting himself
sakura: (thoughtful expression)
itachi: no.
sakura: i don't say anything!
minato: ???? aren't you allies?
sakura: inside joke :) don't worry about it :)
so minato ends up their konoha proxy. he goes and researches un-time traveling them and then shows up and acts.... really charming? like when minato tells you everything will be okay, you believe him. and he's SMART and HANDSOME and once SETTLES AN ARGUMENT OVER WHERE THE RICE COUNTRY CAPITAL, WHICH MOVES ON AVERAGE EVERY THREE MONTHS DURING THE WAR, CURRENTLY IS. he's not even condescending that they're both wrong. itachi keeps thinking about him wrestling him down into submission and he doesn't know why. sakura is rethinking her personal definition of "dreamy"
sakura after minato leaves: this is SO upsetting. he's not even my type. i like dark and brooding.
itachi: what
sakura: DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT
and theeeen...... maybe they both get so sexually frustrated over minato they have sex with each other, idk don't worry about it
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adaptacy · 8 months
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smirks mischeviously
Johnny Slaughter x Afab!Reader
Tw: attempted drugging, attempted murder
i was giggling so hard as i wrote this - mostly just a stupid silly borderline crack fic idk i thought this idea was hilarious
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You'd seen him around here before. He was strange. Too chatty. Probably had mommy issues. A smooth talker, but emphasis on the talking part.
And now he sat next to you. His eyes slightly squint, a translucent brown liquid in his cup that sloshed around when he sat. He leaned onto the bar, giving you a grin. He had dark hair, and a scar over his eye.
"Howdy, sweetpea. You look lonely," he hummed, using a charming tone to complement his already rugged voice. "What're you drinkin'?"
You glanced at your drink, picking it up and finishing it off. "Nothing now. You wanna buy me a drink?" You chuckled, and he smirked, clearly a fan of your attitude. He offered a shrug, sipping from his own drink as he waved down the bartender.
"Two scotch, thanks," he requested, and you narrowed your eyes for just a moment before easing up and giving him a polite grin.
"And what might your name be?" You asked.
"Johnny. Yours?"
"I'll tell you after a few more drinks," you teased, and Johnny quirked up an eyebrow. "What's a hunk like you doing in a bar like this?"
"Same thing a pretty girl like you is doing in a shithole like this," he responded, and your smile grew. This was going to be fun.
You gave him a once-over; he was bulky, his arms were double the width of yours thanks to trained muscles, and you assumed he was likely a rancher. Despite the lack of good lighting in the bar, you could make out a few scars on his biceps, and that only reassured your assumptions about him.
A rancher, or a farmer; maybe a hunter. Had his fair share of experiences with rowdy animals or dangerous tools. Probably had his fair share of encounters with women, too. The gentle, drunk kinds of women. Maybe a good Christian girl here and there; clearly he was a native of Texas, his accent told you that much.
Maybe he lived in a desolate farmhouse, far from civilization. Big yards for his gardening and livestock needs. Probably lived off the land. Came into town every few weeks for a bar and a good time...
Wasn't well-known. Didn't have a lot of connections. Wouldn't be missed too dearly...
"You come here often? Feel like I've seen yer face 'round here 'fore," he commented, and you blinked a few times, offering a soft smile.
"Gosh, don't call out my bad habits like that. That's no way to win a girl over," you replied, gently nudging his arm with your elbow.
He smirked at the response, swishing the drink in his hand. "Wouldn't do it if I wasn't the same. Nothin' personal," he chuckled, finishing off his glass as the bartender presented two new servings. You scooted one towards you, and he did the same.
"Guess you and I are kindred spirits then, hm? What are you drinking to forget?" You asked, eyeing his glass. He didn't pick it up immediately, so neither did you. He looked off in the distance, seeming to remember something, and you debated making a move.
"Past mistakes. Future mistakes," he grunted, finally reaching down and picking up his glass, watching the liquid as it rippled. "You?"
"Nothing. Not really here for the drinks. More so for the company," you hummed, picking up your own drink and taking a sip. "Not that I'm complaining about getting both. And for free, no less. What a gentleman."
Johnny smirked, setting his drink back down again, not yet taking a drink. "So long as it's worth my while, I don't mind. Though I doubt a girl like you needs company like mine, eh?"
"Oh, don't be so humble. I'm sure you know better than to underestimate yourself," you teased, watching the way he ran his fingers through his hair as though combing his mind for something. He turned, looking behind himself as someone bumped into him, and you took the opportunity to lean forward and sprinkle a thin powder into his drink.
You managed to recoil before he looked back at you, and your hand was back on your drink, staring at the shelves of expensive bottles behind the bar. He let out a quiet sigh, shaking his head. "We both know what we're here for. You got somewhere important to be t'morrow?"
You resisted the urge to smirk, and you gave a soft shake of your head. "Nah. You?"
"Psh, nothin' of the sort. How 'bout you and me get outta here? Tired of wastin' time," he confessed, and you pursed your lips, biting the inside of your lip. With a glance to his drink, you motioned towards it.
"You gonna drink? Don't want that to go to waste," you asked, and he looked at his glass, presenting a small, unsure frown. You finished off your drink in an attempt to encourage him, but he didn't quite seem willing to budge.
"Ain't that thirsty. Got a fine, tall glass of water right in front of me," Johnny flirted, and you gave him a sheepish giggle, feigning flattery.
"Guess those mistakes aren't so troubling after all, huh?" You hummed, and he seemed to shift a bit, slightly uncomfortable with your words. Thankfully, it urged him to take a sip, a small one, but a sip nonetheless, before he stood up and placed a few dollars down on the bar.
"C'mon, darlin', let's go. No better way to forget mistakes than to make new ones," he chuckled, returning to his charming persona as he offered a hand. Well, something was better than nothing. You took his hand and slid off of the barstool, following him out to his truck.
"You wanna come back to my place?" You asked, and Johnny contemplated it for a moment, but shook his head.
"Ain't very polite to go to the lady's house. How 'bout you come back to mine? Promise it'll be worth the trip," he responded, gently pulling you closer to him and tilting your chin to look up at him. You bat your eyelashes, wearing an innocent smile.
"I'm not sure I can wait. You've got somethin' special, some kinda charm. Gets girls excited, y'know? Maybe it's the scars," you teased, tracing a finger down his chest.
"Yeah? You gettin' ahead of yourself, pumpkin?" He murmured, leaning down until your lips were less than an inch apart. "My seats go back. Know a couple of good, secluded spots..."
You smirked, brushing your mouth against him as you whispered out a response. "Ain't very 'polite' of you to be so forward, prince Charming," you hummed, and you felt his grip on your chin tighten ever so slightly.
"Somethin' tells me you prefer the impoliteness. Gonna give you the night of your life," he laughed almost sinisterly, and you dialed back your smirk to a more gullible smile. You leaned back on you feet, dropping his hand and walking around the truck to the passenger side, where you climbed in as he started the car.
He only got about eight or nine minutes away from the bar before he pulled over on a dark back road, and you smirked, realizing your plan was coming to fruition. Sure, he was a lot bigger than you, but you were going to be on top. And he was clearly cocky; confident men were the easiest to beat.
You didn't waste any time in crawling over his console and sitting in his lap, one hand on his chest as you leaned down and met his lips. He tasted like scotch; clearly, he'd already been drinking before he sat down next to you. That made things easier. One of his hands sat on your hips, and you could feel how calloused his fingers were from where they rested on your skin above your jeans. His other hand was in your hair, keeping you pulled down into the kiss.
You hummed against his lips, slowly rolling your hips and earning a restrained, amused grunt from the man. Your hand traced down his shirt, sneaking underneath the fabric and pulling it upwards, revealing a well-trained set of abs littered with small scars and patches.
His hand does the same to your shirt, though it's already cropped enough to show skin, and then the weight of his palm leaves your hip. You assume he's going for his belt, and you take the opportunity to reach into your back pocket and...
Both of you tense up as you feel blades pressed against one another's throats, and you stare at each other like you've been insulted. He has a long, slightly curved blade pressed against your carotid artery, and you have a switchblade poking at the underside of his jaw.
There's not even a breath that's exchanged. Just glares. Awkward blinks. Not a muscle is moved, but it's not due to fear. It's not due to intimidation.
It's due to confusion.
And then, you both decide you've had enough.
Simultaneously, as if it had been tirelessly rehearsed, you ask one another; "Are you trying to kill me?"
And then there's more silence. The metal is still against your skin, and his, tightly enough to keep one another unmoving. And then you both, slowly, retract your knives, lowering them.
"You tried to kill me," he remarked, and you scoffed.
"You were going to kill me?"
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Johnny asked, and you gasped, giving him a dumb blink.
"I thought you wanted to have sex!" You exclaimed.
"I thought you wanted to have sex."
"Dude, I'm a murderer," you confessed, tilting your head and shaking it at him.
"I'm a cannibal," he replied, and you blinked.
"Goddamn. Could've fooled me."
"I can't- You really just tried killin' me? That... that is a first. Usually it's after I kidnap 'em that I get knives to my throat."
"You kidnap them before killing them?" You asked, and he nodded. "That's so much extra effort."
"Easier to hide evidence."
"You eat them. That's class A evidence destroying."
"You're a murderer?" He asked again, and you nodded.
"I thought you were just some desperate rancher."
"You had me thinkin' you were just another careless city girl," he answered, shaking his head.
There were a few more moments of silence as the two of you thought over what the hell just happened. And then you put your knife back into your pocket, and he set his in his console.
"Wanna..."
"Have sex?" You asked.
"Yeah."
"Sure."
136 notes · View notes
bridgetotheskyyy · 1 year
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summary: Deidara meets a superfan
warnings: Smut, 18+, rough sex, choking, pool sex, reader has a bit of a description, reader is complex, mentions of killing
word count: 6.9k
a/n: I had this idea shortly after conceptualizing Apprentice and while I was, like 70 or 80% done with that fic. And now we have this fucking 7k monster. I consider this to be a spiritual successor to Apprentice, maybe a oppositional series of events even? Idk, you decide lol. There are even some similar words and wordy allusions that you may catch haha. Hope you enjoy!
read on ao3 here. (recommended for extra notes)
Kisame’s wicked cackles reverberated across the cavern walls, summoned from the pit of his stomach; Deidara was sure he would pass out sooner rather than later. 
“It seems,” Pain began, eyeing the sculpture in the center of the room, “you have an admirer, Deidara.” 
Deidara’s brow twitched as a blush snuck across his face. His eyes roved over the sculpture ― the naked sculpture.
Tobi threw up his hands in laudation. “It’s so pretty! ”
Kisame laughed harder ― if it was possible. 
“I have taken it upon myself to apologize to (Y/n),” Pain continued over the cackling. “She’s one of our main contributors, after all; we would be amiss to upset her.” 
“When …” Deidara’s brow held a life of its own, “... did she send this?”
“No clue; I had Kisame retrieve it,” Pain explained. “Apparently, we sent the wrong member to entertain her.”
Kisame’s hand hugged the wall. “You’re damn right! ” 
It was as subtle a joke as could be achieved by Pain and it still wasn’t funny. Deidara’s eyes had not once left the sculpture since Pain had signaled for his attendance, saying it was of the utmost importance he appeared. One arm yawned out to the sky while the other snaked around and brushed against the meat of the breasts ― your breasts. One leg stuck out before the other, the fat of the thigh attached concealing the womanhood. 
Your womanhood. 
Both futile attempts to afford the piece some decency. Futile, Deidara guessed, was the point. It was coquetry. A shameless attempt at flirtation on your part. 
And just in case Deidara was too dense to get the message, you’d taken it upon yourself to leave him one, attached to the foot of the sculpture’s dais:
Hello! Please deliver to Deidara. Thank you.  
It even had a smiley face after the period.
Deidara balled his fist. 
What. The. Fuck.
“(Y/n) must be an incredibly beautiful woman!” Tobi admired the piece with fascination, a sparkling heart encasing his eyehole. “Look at the face, and the hips, and the feet ― ”
“Tobi!” Deidara was beet red. “Shut the hell up!” 
“Deidara,” Pain spoke again, unfazed by the cacophony. “I’m sure you’ll be undertaking a journey west? Since (Y/n) has clearly requested you specifically.”
Deidara’s eyes yo-yoed between their leader and the monstrosity of the naked sculpture. He debated it. Of course, all while fantasizing about shoving explosives down the laughing fishman’s throat and turning him into a pile of sardines. 
Tobi can taste one himself, while I’m at it.  
“What?” Irritation bit Deidara’s tone. “We’re fucking prostitutes now?” 
Pain raised holographic brows. “If it ensures peace, then yes.”
Deidara’s mouth dropped. The audacity of it all. How much was he expected to take? 
“We’re waiting, Deidara.”
A pause. He was no fool. This wasn’t a request, it was an expectation. 
“Fine,” Deidara sighed irritably. “I’ll go, all right?”
“You better,” Kisame said, at last recovering from his fit. “Better get those high heels out and start walking the streets, too!”
Deidara was ready to draw blood ― 
“No need to be crude, Kisame,” Pain’s backdropped against another fit of raucous laughter. 
Says the man who puts a naked STATUE in the room.
“ Honestly, ” Kakuzu spat. “Do the rest of us have to be here for this?” 
“I second that!” Hidan said with relief, “Finally, something we can agree on. ”
“Of course,” Pain said. “You were here in the event Deidara tried to refuse.”
Deidara ignored them all. He gave the sculpture one more scan before swallowing dry and awaiting the end of the call. He could not believe your gall. You were so … brazen . A simple love letter couldn’t have sufficed? No? A naked ― What the fuck was the matter with you?
Still, he was … intrigued. Curiosity was a hooking finger, beckoning him forth. Was that really … your body? Your lips? Your thighs? Your …
Deidara swallowed dry again, his tongue sticking to the top of his palate.
He’d go to the village and put an end to your games. 
And maybe …
He wouldn’t let himself go there ― even if his treacherous mind was wandering already.
<<<>>>
You sat in your museum of sculptures, head tilted up against the gods you had crafted.
The door creaked open.
“I just received Pain’s crow,” your assistant’s voice rang. “Deidara should arrive in another day or so.” 
Stars were in your eyes but you kept your back to her. “Great!”
Your grand plan relied on whether or not Pain, mysterious leader of the Akatsuki, was morally bankrupt enough to hoe out his members. At any point you could’ve been rejected with your sculpture returned swiftly to you. But it worked. You were thrilled. The first part of the plan had succeeded. 
You were going to see him again.
Your assistant’s footsteps tapped repeatedly over the polish floors upon which you now sat. 
“Hmm.” Doubt deflated some of your enthusiasm. “Do you think it was effective enough? You know, for him?”
Your assistant huffed incredulously. “What? Just because Deidara’s a shinobi means he’s immune to pussy? C’mon. You’re not one of those types that thinks all shinobi are noble and stone-faced, are you, (Y/n)-sama?”
  As if. You guffawed. Nobility wasn’t the issue; hundreds of people scoured the red light districts for carnal game. You told your assistant as such. 
“At least seventy percent are shinobi searching for quick thrills,” You joked. “If my math’s correct, anyway. It could be higher. And I know any one of them would be more than happy if a girl simply threw herself at them without need for reimbursement. But still …” You trailed, gaze tailing down the hardened clay of a kimono-garbed sculpture. “I only wondered. It’s been a long time since … I don’t know how dedicated he is to his little terrorist group, is all. He might not be as amused.”
“You answered your own question, ma’am,” your assistant said. “And even if he wasn’t a shinobi, he’s a man. It’ll go down without a hitch! You worry too much.”
You nodded. She was right: despite the years, you wanted to speak to Deidara in his language. Art. How could he resist such an enticement? How could any man, but especially Deidara, due to the manner in which you had sent your little gift. “Okay. Part one of the plan: Complete!”
“What’s the rest of the plan exactly?” You heard the pat, pat, pat and knew from your many years with your assistant that she was thumping her clipboard against her head. “Dinner? Walk on the beach? Or just … Fucking?”
Your smile was evil. “Yes.” 
You held Deidara in your mind’s palm. Blonde hair, gorgeous face .. . One of the most admired artists in Iwakagure ― no, the most. For  could rival Deidara? Even your knees wobbled in the face of his raw talent, even years later. He was still revered in the art community. Of course, his name grew to possess more notoriety than reverence when he started blowing up things ― and people. But, hey everyone was flawed. 
It was only when he went rogue and abandoned the village did you start your own search for him. Years passed and then … reports of a long-haired, blonde shinobi with profound arsonry acuity. Rogue. Affinity for birds.
Bingo. 
Your giggle was shamelessly girlish. “I’d love to woo him.”
Your assistant chuckled. “Aaand you’re not the slightest bit afraid of him? I mean, with all respect, (Y/n)-sama, he’s a criminal. He’s an arsonist. ” 
You licked your lips. “Love me a bad boy.”
“Right,” she said with a chuckle. “Forget I said anything.” 
“I will. Now, let’s get ready.”
<<<>>>
“We’re going to see the girl with the pretty feet, aren’t we, Senpai?” 
“I told you to shut your mouth, Tobi.” 
Deidara’s taller partner buoyed from foot to foot as he tailed behind. Deidara didn’t want to think about your body ― your incredibly artful body, artful in more ways than one … 
The sun crept from the sky as it vivified the color of peachskin. Deidara’s eyes darted hither-thither, collecting information. It was all he could do to not summon one of his explosive birds and fly over this entire, forgotten village. The urge to set it ablaze and go home was immense. A part of him had wanted to make such an entrance, but prudency would never allow it. 
Nor would Leader.
Deidara turned back to Tobi just in time to see him pose, a hand visoring his visible eye while the other landed on his hip. 
“Leader said the pretty naked lady would have someone waiting for us,” Tobi said. 
“Hm,” Deidara said. It was true; they would wait for someone to escort them to you. Until then, they remained lost in one of the village’s districts. The streets were alive with noise and peopled with busy folk. Deidara could tell the amount of businesses actually open were sparse.  Pain had called you one of their main contributors … She must be a big wig to have people doing her dirty work for her. Just who were you? And how were you so familiar with him to send such a thing to the Akatsuki headquarters? 
And if you were so rich, why did you squalor in the dirt with the likes of those in this village?
Thoughts bubbled in the back of Deidara’s mind― 
“Hey …!” 
Outside of a food stall a woman eyed them, holding a curtain back with manicured nails.
Bingo . 
“Tobi,” Deidara gestured. “C’mon.” 
“Okay, senpai!” 
Deidara neared the food stall.
The woman ticked her head to the side with a smile. “Enjoy your gift?”
Pink colored Deidara’s cheeks.
“So, you’re escorting us, right?”
The woman backed away to admit them into the food stall, where the people inside, dining on bowls of ramen and mackerel were too engrossed in their meals to notice the cloaked men enter. 
“You got me,” she winked. “C’mon.”
The woman led them behind the bar, where they slinked through the backdoor into the alley. 
“Don’t need anyone asking questions about the cloaks,” she reasoned. “Surprised you didn’t think of that, Oh Great Deidara of Iwakagure.”
“Of course I did!” Deidara said. “I look stupid to you?”
“No,” the woman’s eyes roamed on Deidara now. “You look cute . My mistress really didn’t lie …” 
Deidara averted his gaze as the woman snickered. Tobi gawked. 
“Does lady think Tobi’s cute, too?” 
“Uh,” she blinked. “Sure.” 
Tobi twirled with a squeal. Deidara rolled his eyes. 
“Whatever,” Deidara said. “Just take us to meet her, all right?”
“Sure …” the woman said. 
They traveled through as street lights blared to life, the sky a bruising purple as evening descended.
“I only wanted us in there to help us blend in a bit,” she guided them through the streets. “I hope it wasn’t too troublesome getting here.” 
“We can care for ourselves,” Deidara said, prickly. 
“You don’t have to be so defensive,” the woman said. “I’m just making conversation.”
“I said don’t worry about it,” Deidara snapped. “So … who is this woman? This mistress of yours?” 
“I’m one of her many assistants, yeah,” the woman said, leading them down a dark street, made darker by the light of day dying faster. “I started working for her years ago. I was so amazed by her art and so intimidated by her talent, I didn’t think she’d accept me. But, surprise surprise.”
“Yeah? So how she so rich? She sell her art?”
“Exactly! People come from all over the world to see her exhibits. She brings so much tourism to this ragtag village. She doesn’t even keep her wealth to herself; she donates so much. She should be much richer than she is! She’s a saint, really.”
So she donates to the Akatsuki, the deadpan of the thought laid flat in his mind. Deidara was silent, tailing shortly behind her. Some saint.
“You called me Deidara of Iwakagure.”
“ … Yes, I suppose I did.”
“So … Your mistress … she knows where I’m from.”
The woman was silent now as she led Deidara and Tobi down street steps to a quieter street, nearly bereft of people beside the occasional deadbeat smoker. 
“She from there, too?” 
Deidara went unanswered. 
Hm, so I’m on to something, Deidara noticed the buildings growing taller, treeing up as the raucous of the village slipped away. They traveled further south. Maybe Pain’s got this wrong; maybe this girl’s a fucking black widow and wants revenge on me for something. Figures, he’s sure he’s broken a few hearts in the past he’d long since forgotten about. But then … Why would she donate so much money to our organization? She clearly believes in it.
“We’re here,” the woman-assistant said.
Deidara raised his head ― and kept raising it. 
Shit . 
The mansion was immaculate, easily the tallest of all of its sisters. Its main building was flanked by towers with onioned tips and was encased in a giant garden, all of it shielded by a surrounding wall. 
Deidara stared, bug-eyed.
The doors to the gate’s entrance burst open and a gaggle of girls filed through. 
“They’re here ―!” 
“Ooh~! there’s two of ‘em!” 
“Mistress will be so pleased!” 
Girls stood star-eyed at Deidara while more hugged themselves to Tobi’s arms. 
“Tobi likes pretty girls!”
“We’ll entertain the other one,” the woman-assistant said with a wink. “You just follow us.”
The woman-assistant led them in where the cult of girls drove Tobi away laughing and giggling. 
“This way,” the woman said. 
Deidara followed her, looking around. From the inside, the mansion opened up like some grand palace from myth, folkloric and mysterious. Columns shouldered the brunt of a ceiling that raised into the darkness. The floors were illustrated scenes from what Deidara recognized as actual myths. Valiant samurais rescued princesses with flaring kimonos, dragons ribboned down hallways. The scenes on the walls diverged from the ones of nobility beneath them, were lavish with depictions of wild courtesans and … 
Deidara blushed. 
Begrudgingly, he had to admit you did have taste; the art was a lot, but wove together into one cohesive masterpiece. The hallways the assistant led him down were flanked by vases winking with sheen and overflowed with bell flowers, roses, sunflowers. The hallway widened into a foyer. Something winked in Deidara’s peripheral and when he looked upward saw that the ceiling domed into a orb of glass, giving way to the first few blink of stars. 
He had entered the lion’s den for sure.
“ Deidara … ” 
The sirenic voice compelled his head to a foyer alcove where a figure shrouded the threshold. 
His eyes widened. 
(E/c) eyes glittered at him. Long legs supported swaying hips. Elegant cleavage sinking into a familiar mound of breasts. Delicate hands, hickey-worthy neck … 
And lovely ― and lovely … 
Inwardly, he sighed, defeated.
Feet.  
The naked sculpture colored Deidara’s memory. 
“Deidara!” You parroted in awe. Your expression shifted as you came to smolder at him. “In the flesh. And just in time for dinner.”
Your kimono waterfalled as you left the alcove. Deidara gulped, speechless as you sauntered to him.
“It ―” Deidara’s cheeks grew hot. “It really is you …” 
“It really is me …” 
Your woman-assistant's eyes tennis-balled between you and Deidara before bowing respectfully. “I’ll give you two some privacy.” 
She hurried away down a different alcove. 
Deidara shook his head in a desperate attempt to reclaim his senses. Fucking hell, Dei, get a grip.
“So,” he cleared his throat. “I ―”
“I still can’t believe you’re actually here,” You began to turn, “Let me show you ―”
“Wait, I think we should discuss monetary terms first,” Deidara said in a futile attempt to hold some ground over the woman. 
“Hm?” You blinked. “Didn’t your leader explain things to you?”
“What do you mean?”
“The money comes after the evening,” you winked at him. “Of course.” 
Pain, you fucking ― 
“Deidara …” You revered, pulling the sleeve of your kimono back over your shoulder. “Before dinner, I would love for you to see the rest of my work.” 
“Your,” Deidara deadpanned, blinking, “work?”
“Yes,” You smirked at him. “You enjoyed the piece I already had you review, I presume?” 
Deidara fought to keep things on the issue at hand, but his eyes grew preoccupied with the twinkle in yours. The sky above the two of you had plunged into a chief darkness. Candles flared to life to douse the hall in tangerine light. 
Deidara turned a blind eye to it. “Your assistant called me Deidara of Iwakagure.” 
You eyed him. “Did she …?” you said coyly. “I’m glad she didn’t try and call you anything else; she’s got a mouth on her.”
“How do you know me?” 
You shied away. Your head dipped. Deidara tried to ignore the cuteness of it all. 
Focus, damnit.
“I’m guessing you’re from Iwagakure, too?” Deidara pressed. “What are you playing at?” 
You took your time. “Yeah, Deidara, we have a village in common.” You began to walk, crossing the columns to circle him. “Do you remember the underground competitions that used to be held there?” 
“Hm,” Deidara recalled and relished in the ego trip it afforded him. Dark rooms. Rowdy spectators circled around art pieces under makeshift stage lights like cavemen around fire. It was before he left the Iwagakure, when he was still itching to engage in the village’s indie art scene before growing bored of the whole thing. “I won most of them.” 
“I used to show up early and wait for you to showcase your things,” You glazed with memory. “You were always my favorite.” 
Deidara smirked. “Hm, naturally. So you’re, what, some kind of superfan Not like I’m surprised, but …”
You thread past a column to scoop up a candle holder. 
“You could say that,” you said. I have something to show you, if you follow me.”
He obliged, curiosity hooking him with a second finger. Candle flame lit like thin clovers to ward off the darkness. The flames illuminated the sway of your hips as he trailed. The sleeve of your kimono slipped past your shoulder again, revealing the skin of your neck and shoulder pad to him …
Why am I even noticing? 
You brought him to a room hidden behind a set of rectangular doors.
“This is where I keep them.” 
You pushed the doors open with a strength Deidara wouldn’t have expected. 
Deidara entered ― and stopped.
It was a museum of art; animal pieces blazed his vision; exotic birds in flight, elegant cranes, all shaded and hued with masterful care and, if Deidara hadn’t been who he was, he wouldn’t have been able to recognize them as pieces done with clay. There were apricot-colored foxes, a dragon head amongst a dragon bust. Deidara recognized a few self sculptures in the forest of pieces. Obscure structures too abstract to be assigned to names dotted space, esoteric symbols eluding even him …
“You inspired me to create my own art,” You explained as he gawked. You inched to him and brazenly took his hand in yours.
Deidara jumped from the sudden contact and found your pretty face in the dim light. Stop … stop. A part of him wanted to summon a tongue to taste the salt on your palm. 
“It’s how I’ve made my money,” you continued as you tugged him along the aisles of work like an excited child.
“So you’re that kind of fan,” Deidara said as he recovered. And, what do you want from me?” he chuckled in disbelief, “My critique?”
“Of course.” 
He wasn’t expecting an honest answer forthright. Sincerely, he roved eyes over your work. 
“Hm, well …” he approached one, taking inventory of it head to foot. “Give me the candle.”
You obeyed.
“You’ve got a great understanding of color, I’ll give you that,” Deidara examined. “Painting can be messy, especially on clay ― and honestly so many artists use colors so … bluntly; it makes the whole thing come off as garish.”
“I’ve noticed.”
He laughed at that. “Hm! … You’ve got a great eye. And I don’t hand out compliments easily.” He raised the candle to illuminate another sculpture. “How long did this one take you?” 
“Five weeks,” You answered before chuckling somewhere behind him. “It’s funny, I sketched and re-sketched this one so many times, it was technically seven weeks.”
“A perfectionist. I like that.” 
Deidara found himself smiling. Rarely did he get to talk to someone about art or its many processes. Deidara thought of Sasori and was touched with a tinge of respect for his fallen partner. But, of course, they’re philosophies so often chafed against one another. But you … An image of him helping you craft one of your pieces came to his mind: his hands guiding yours over unsophisticated clay, paint dashing your collarbone, maybe on your lips … 
“Deidara …?”
Your voice brought him out of his thoughts, only for him to realize you were now in front of him. 
“We could talk about this more over dinner.” 
Your hands grazed his forearms and for some reason he didn’t pull away. The alluring scent of your perfume flirted up his nose. 
Deidara’s cock twitched; he kicked himself inwardly. What was he? A fucking teenage boy? He had half of a mind to shove you away, end this … whatever this was.
But none of that happened. Instead, he agreed. And, taking his hand again with fingers threaded through his, you led him out of your museum. 
<<<>>>
You let him to the roof of one of your buildings, where moonlight bestowed diamonds over the still waters of your pool and the dinner table waited, illuminated by more candles. 
“You’re a real hot shot now, aren’t you?” Deidara said.
You blushed as he surveyed dinner. “Is it too much?” 
“Nah, if anything it’s just the artist in you dying to come out,” he shrugged. “I respect that.”
You moved to take a seat, Deidara following you. He stopped you, pulling out the chair for you. 
You sank to your chair with a mixture of surprise and thrill. “What a gentleman. ”
“Just showing my respect, is all.” 
You snapped your fingers and two waiters appeared to kneel before you, plates of food in hand. 
Deidara did a double-take. “Wow.”
The waiters displayed the food and took their leave. His favorite: bakudan.
“You think of everything, don’t you?” Deidara said.
“Yeah.”
“Hm …” he could not pretend as though he was not impressed, but he could try as he took his seat.
He remembered the art shows in Iwagakure. You were always there? Did he ever see you? Even if he had, you would’ve been little more than a nobody to him, another sycophant he rightfully deserved amongst a herd of fawns and nothing more. You’re telling me all that time … I had a groupie groupie?
“Hey,” he said. “Remember when you said you used to attend my showcases.”
You lowered your fork to raise your brows. “I remember ten minutes ago, yeah.”
Deidara’s own brow twitched. Cheeky cunt . Then kicked himself; he didn’t want to think about your cunt. He watched your tongue swipe your plump lower lip ― then kicked himself again. 
“Why didn’t you ever try to talk to me?” Deidara asked. “I mean,” he leaned back in his chair, dangling his fork, “not like I needed any encouragement, even back then, but what gives? If you were such a fan ―”
“I was shy, back then …” You said. You toyed with your food. You had turned bashful, like a schoolgirl. “Still am, to be honest.”
He scoffed. “Hm! Says the woman who sends naked sculptures of herself to people.” 
You waved your fork. “What can I say? You bring out the wild girl in me,” The glint in your eye turned seductive. “Always have …”
Deidara gulped. What did that mean? You play with yourself with me in mind? Is that it?
Thinking that was another mistake;  images of you sieved into his mind. Sweet, feminine hands sinking in between the softness of your thighs, fingers grazing your wet lips to ... 
What did you smell like? Did you smell as good there as you did everywhere else? 
He shook his head. Fuck . 
“So you’re telling me,” Deidara said just to say something, “you have absolutely no issue with what I do.” 
“I don’t know,” You coquetted. “What do you do?”
“Don’t play coy . You contacted Akatsuki. You know damn well what I mean.” 
You were silent. 
“Killing people,” Deidara said. “Blowing them to smithereens. Kidnapping. The gods know what else. You’re cool with all that?”
Your manicured hand wrapped around your wine glass. You raised it, but before bringing it to your lips: 
“Birds of a feather.” 
You drank. 
What? 
“Come again?” 
You smacked your lips. “You’re not the only one who’s killed a few.” 
A pause. You set aside your drink before challenging his gaze. 
“Care to elaborate?” he asked. 
“I had an assistant once,” you began. “She told me she was desperate for a job, but you wouldn’t know by the run of her mouth. She complained, took off without warning. But then it turned out she had sticky fingers; she tried to steal one of my pieces. I’d had enough.” You leaned over the table as though you feared Deidara wouldn’t hear. “So I killed her. Used her for my piece after the last.”
“And,” Deidara swallowed, “your current girl …”
“You’ve already met her,” you said. “She’s mouthy, too ― but not to me.” 
You had killed, not only that ― encased a girl inside your work. She had wanted your art, and she had gotten her wish. 
“That’s …” Deidara trailed. “... Amazing.”
You smiled. “So, you see, I have no problem with what you do. Who am I to judge, am I right?” 
“Do the villagers judge you?”
“This village has seen enough strife for a lifetime,” You said. “I don’t think they’d mind learning about indiscretion ― especially if they knew why I killed her.”
Deidara raised an eyebrow. “So you donate bundles of cash to clear your conscience?”
“My conscience is clear,” You said. “People shouldn’t have to suffer any more than they already do. I want this village to prospect. I donate because I want to.” You popped a piece of food into your mouth. “You never answered me, by the way.”
“About what?” 
“The sculpture,” Your eyes narrowed with coquetry again, a glint especially bright and beautiful in your eye with aid from the moonlight. “Did you like it?” 
Deidara’s heart beat especially loud in his ears ― and this time he didn’t kick himself for it. 
“... Yeah,” he relented. “Yeah, I liked it.” 
“And it’s been a long time since I’ve seen any of your work, Deidara,” You raised to leave your seat. “Why don’t you show me something?” 
Deidara’s eyes widened. Far was he ever from an opportunity to flex his brilliance, especially on someone so appreciative ― so 
deserving. 
“Sure!”
Enthusiasm straightened your shoulders. “Really? I mean, If you need ―”
“I don’t need anything,” he said, waving you away. “Just stand back!” 
You obeyed, eyes bright from the contagion of his excitement. So aptly memorized did he have the hand signs, Deidara didn’t care to glance at them. Instead, he watched you try to futilely follow his movements. 
<<<>>>
Clay spilled like milk from mouths on Deidara’s hands to form into creatures before your eyes ― you blinked furiously and each time you did another creature was born; small dragons, spherical creatures with eyes, birds, and one, growing piece of clay, raising meters above the ground. It looked like a snowman to you but, knowing Deidara, it was leagues more dangerous. 
You stepped back, overwhelmed by the breadth of Deidara’s creation, Deidara’s artistry . 
One of Deidara’s clay birds flapped its wings, swerved in the air and landed gracefully on the cliff of your shoulder. 
“So,” Deidara’s smirk brightened his face and sent a throb to your nether regions, “what do you think?” 
What do I think? You pet the bird’s clay-made wing. What do I think?  
You took a step. The roof crowded with his creatures to dab white ivory among the encroaching night. 
Surely, it helped being a ninja; Deidara possessed powers you could only dream of understanding. Still. Your mouth hung agape at the amount of things he could spring alive from the literal palms of his hand. Your eyes followed up at his bigger piece, more of a monument to you than a mound of clay. 
He’s a god. A god among men. A god of art.
“Hm!” 
Poof.
You startled. Some of the pieces began disappearing. They left the roof choking with smoke until only his large, snowman-like piece remained. 
“I see you’ve been stunned into silence by my art,” Deidara said. 
You didn’t reply, only began to step forward. 
“Hm!” Deidara looked away, crossed his arms. “It’s only natural, after all, to have your breath taken away by my artiste.” 
Another step. Another. 
“I’m sure our leader didn’t even tell you what I’m capable of.”
Another. 
“It’s a good thing, too ―” 
You were running now. 
“It would’ve spoiled the surprise ―” 
You pounced on Deidara. He cried out but you barely heard it as the force propelled you both backward, falling hard and fast into the swimming pool. 
<<<>>>
Bubbles spilled from Deidara’s mouth. He could feel your hands on him, somewhere, everywhere ― 
He looked to the surface of the water and swam toward it. He could not feel your hands anymore.
He came up for air, looking around for you. 
“(Y/n)!” 
Then you emerged ― but he had no time to register it as your arms came around him. You pulled him down toward you, your lips crashing into his in a wet kiss. 
“Mm …!” 
Your tongue ran over the hard shell of his palate. Your hands held his cheeks. Your legs hooked around his waist to trap him between your thighs.
“That was ― mm ― the most ― mm ― amazing thing I’ve ever ― mm! ― seen!”
Deidara’s hands found you ― and immediately met skin; your kimono, having not been able to withstand the pull of the water, slid dangerously past your shoulders, the folds opened wide so he could feel the full cushion of your breasts against him. 
Oh, fuck.
Just as he began to play with your tongue, you broke away.
You faced him with heavy-lidded eyes, drops of water falling from your abused lips. 
“Let me make good on my promises to Pain,” Your hands hooked behind his neck. 
“Wha ― what?”
“Fuck me, Deidara,” Your voice was thick with lust. “I told him the quantity of my donation was completely dependent on how hard you fucked me. It would be an honor to be fucked by such an amazing artist!” 
That sent something to his dick. 
The surprise dissipated. He smirked. “Really …? Is that so …” 
He gripped your throat and hoisted you above him. He heard you gasp and tightened his grip, feeling the twitch of his cock in response to the  victimized sound. 
“Beg for it,” he ordered.
“ Oh … ” You whimpered. Your head fell back as Deidara’s hand served as a brace. 
He reached downward and tugged at the wet bow of your kimono. He yanked it and reveled in it coming apart to reveal the rest of you.
“ Beg. For me .”
Everything you did and had done was a plea for him, he admitted, but the idea of you begging vocally made him painfully hard. His eyes drank in your naked form still half submerged in the water. Wet tits in his face. A droplet of water fell away from a nipple. 
“Please …” came your breathless voice. “Please, fuck me ― oh … ” 
He thumbed at the tempting nipple, pert and so responsive to his touch. 
“ Nothing underneath, ” he feigned chastisement, pinching the nipple between his fingers. “Fucking slut .” 
He tightened his grip twofold and was pleasantly surprised with the moan you rewarded him with. The strict fit of his pants was becoming too much to bear. You jerked in his hold, tits jiggling in his face. 
“ Please, fuck me, Deidara!” 
Satisfied, He set you down and watched you bounce in the water before yanking you forward. He pressed his mouth against yours once again. You reached for him to no avail; he spun you, your back now pressed hard against the side of the pool. He released your mouth to dabble kisses at your neck, biting at pieces of skin. 
“ Fuck …!” You arched and Deidara fell into the dip of your curve.
You gripped his hand to bring it to your face. He stopped kissing you to look at what you had in mind, his tongue still present at his palm. 
Your lips traced his palm and began to kiss the tongue there. 
“Mmm …”
Deidara laughed as you tongue-kissed his hand. “You really are a fucking weirdo, aren’t you?”
The tongue slithered over your own. You released a moan and closed your mouth over the tongue, a flushed red tainting your cheeks. Your hand pressed behind the back of his hand, forcing it to deepen the kiss, to nibble at his tongue. Deidara hitched a breath. You sucked it further into your mouth. 
“ Ah ― y … you wanna suck on something so badly …” Deidara murmured. “MaybeI should give you something more legit, hm …”
You mewled in approval. His tongue retreated from your mouth and he felt a twinge of triumph when you gasped for air. He approached you. A hand ghosted over your neck before ramming you hard against the wall of the pool, the force with which he’d done it so hard he was sure its cement edge imprinted on your upper back. With his other hand he tugged his trousers down. 
You met his eyes.
“Take a deep breath.” 
And he plunged you into the water.
He looked down, watched the water dance as your squiggly reflection gripped his cock and fit it into your mouth. 
Deidara groaned. His head fell back as you hollowed your cheeks and took him in. The water did nothing to stall your mouth; you bobbed your head, stroking what couldn’t fit into your mouth. 
Deidara steadied himself with a hand at the pool’s edge, entranced by how your tongue rolled back to lick his head each time you pulled away, only to take him deep into the back of your throat when pulling in ― 
“ Nargh …! ” 
A hand palmed at his balls while another tightened around his cock. Deidara reached for your head in the water to thread fingers into your head and force you harder onto his cock. 
“ Aah … shit! ” He wanted you to choke on it. He wanted to own your mouth. 
And apparently you wanted that, too; you popped him from your mouth a few times. You hadn’t come up for air once since he’d submerged you, his cock now your only business. He yanked your head up. He forced a kiss, the taste of himself in your mouth driving him mad.
“Enjoying dinner, I see, hm, hah …” he quipped, eyes heavy on your hand still stroking his cock. “What a pro. ” 
“Only for you, Deidara-senpai. ”
You hand abandoned his cock and you licked him off your palm. Without his help you went under, fitting his cock in your mouth a second time. Deidara kept your hair from your mouth as you sucked him. His cockhead hit the back of your throat and, oh , you didn’t choke, only took more, more. Greedy cunt. 
He imagined you practicing this for him, only for him, your senpai. Your mouth hungering for what wasn’t truly there. Deidara squeezed eyes shut; close, close. You were sucking his cock as though his was the only one in the world, worshiping with your mouth and tongue. He imagined your lungs desperate for air, screaming for them, yet your mouth too transfixed to care. 
A fucking servant for him, obedient to his cock. 
Deidara’s cock twitched. His groan was low and rumbling as he spilled his seed into your willing mouth. You sucked hard, jerked him into your mouth. Your mouth slicked with his cum and grew impossibly warm. Saliva and his own seed coated his cock. 
“Aaah-ha- ahh …! ” 
He scalped you as he emptied into your mouth, cum guzzling down your throat.
At last, you popped him from your mouth and emerged before him, mouth and lips thoroughly abused.
Deidara’s gaze cast down on you. He caught his breath in the seconds absent of words. 
“I could use a girl like you,” Deidara exhaled. 
You popped your lips, eyes dreamy and narrow. “I think you just did,”
“Hm! An apprenticeship, then?”
You recovered immediately. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted.” 
He smirked at his own prospect and pulled you to him. “C’mere.”
He emerged from the pool before helping you follow suit. He removed his black fishnet shirt and flung it away. He drank you in. Naked, in the flesh ― and wet, right when he thought you couldn’t be improved upon.
You settled atop the dinner table and waited for him. Deidara came to you.
“Spread those legs.” 
 You acquiesced. He licked his lips at the sight of your puffy, glistening cunt.
“You wouldn’t be my first,” You said, “but you’ll be my last.”
He slotted into the space you afforded him. He caressed your vulva before giving it a firm slap. You yelped and his lip upturned at the sound. He slid a finger between your folds, encouraged by your appreciative mewls. 
He gripped the fat of your cheeks and forced you to look at him and not his adventurous fingers. 
“Your best. ” 
You hooked your legs behind him as he geared his cock grazed your folds ― 
And thought he might cum just from the sound of your drawn out moan when he slid inside you. 
He bucked from instinct, the firm grip of your twat clouding his senses. Again he went for your throat, the appendage becoming its permanent resting place. 
“This is what you wanted, right?” Deidara breathed out, thrusting hard. “Leader’s gonna get his fucking money’s worth …” 
Hands gripped his wrists tight as he began to fuck you, the table wobbling slightly underneath your mewling body. 
“Yes …! Ye―Yes, oh!” You clung to him, Deidara’s hands upholding you. “ Fuc ― oh, Yes! I owe Pain my life ― oh! ” 
He released your throat just to bite at it. He sunk his teeth into your skin while his hands committed to making scarlet red prints against your ass.
“ Fuck, you’re ―” Deidara stammered. The feel of your cunt swallowing him was too much. He recalled Kisame’s threat to fuck you himself. Not on your life, sharkman . And he felt himself thrust hard just to affirm you were his. He’d set the entire world ablaze before anyone else could experience the wonderful grip of your cunt. “You’re mine. ”
You tugged him to your lips again and kissed him. A moan from you vibrated against his lips. He reached downward to tease your clit and your legs trembled at his sides.
“ Fuck, Deida ―” You flung your head back. “ I’m ― ”
He knocked you onto the table and lifted your legs over his shoulders. He began to pound you, relishing in the bounce of your tits. Plates fell to the floor and shattered as he wrecked your cunt. 
He choked you again, sure there would be a greater hand-shaped bruise once he was through. He flicked your clit, thumbed it. Your scream rumbled under his grip as his balls slapped your ass. 
Your moans grew shrill, and you clenched ―
“ Fuck …! ” Deidara lost himself in your tight cunt. He slapped your clit, grip dangerously tight at your neck―
“Yes, please!” You called out as you came, “Dei― Deidara!”
Spurts of cum left his cock and sucked into your cunt. You convulsed and convulsed. You showed him the whites of your eyes as you came. Deidara held you to him by your thighs. A few more weak thrusts and he gave out on top of you, his chin hiding in the crook of your shoulder.
A few moments passed. Deidara raised his head, caught you over the corner of his eye. “So … everything you wanted?”
“And more, ” You sang.
He maneuvered to place a kiss at the heart of your collarbone, still so fascinated with it. He removed himself from you before assisting you as best as he could. 
“Did you mean it?” You inquired after a few moments more.
“Hm?” 
“About me being your apprentice?” 
“... Hm,” Deidara shrugged. “Well, I’ll have to check my schedule. But, if it all adds up, I wouldn’t mind having you by my side.” 
You squealed, engulfed him in a hug. 
“Ah, ah!” Deidara fought you off. “Okay, okay, whatever!”
“Oh, I’m so excited! ” You bounced. “So, so ― wait!” 
You pulled back, smirked up at him.
“I almost forgot,” You said. “Your payment … ”
<<<>>>
“Two million yen,” Pain said. “All in a single donation ― our highest to date. I assume it went well?” 
“Hm!” Deidara said. “Very!”
“And Miss (Y/n) tells me she’ll be requesting you monthly from now on,” Pain continued. “Each time with the same donation or higher.” 
“Are you telling me Deidara’s dick is going to fund all our expeditions from now on?” Kisame mocked. 
“And the rest of our lives,” Kakuzu’s voice tipped in interest, “if this goes on …”
“Don’t get any ideas, Kakuzu!” Hidan barked. “We’re not whoring ourselves out.”
“Shut up,” Kakuzu bit back. “I’ve never even thought about it. Unless …”
“What girl would wanna fuck you? ” 
“A satisfied and wealthy client means less worry over how we secure our money,” Pain said, ignoring the bickering, “so, in a manner of speaking, yes. Deidara will aid in contributions― as we all should.” 
“Well, then, we’re all set!” Deidara said. 
“There’s just one thing that irks me about this whole endeavor,” Pain said. “... Where is Tobi?” 
“...”
“... He didn’t come back with you, did he?” 
“... No.”
“...” 
Pain sighed.
“... Go back and get him, Deidara.”
351 notes · View notes
cowgurrrl · 6 months
Note
I’m sorry. I am simply obsessed with rockstar!joel with crackhead twins. There is something about this hot dude in his 50s with a bad back having to raise two wild gremlins who like to gnaw on the table leg!? You know what I mean. Could I please request a cute fic where Joel is just super exhausted and feels like he is maybe not up tot he task, I don’t know maybe the girls are like in their chaos 2 year old stage. After a long day of them not being interested in him at all and him just feeling super insecure he resorts to strumming my girl on his guitar and they are just mesmerized by their dad?! Idk like the music is the moment the turn into sweet little mushy angels again? Sorry that was super long, anyway love yah.
Thank you for the request 🥺🥺 ily2 and I love that a general consensus has been reached that the twins are batshit crazy as toddlers and Sam is just a Perfect Baby Angel
My Girls
Pairing: rockstar!joel miller x fem!reader
Summary: Joel braves the first of many Sophia and Violet days [1.6k]
Warnings: mentions of pregnancy and the foster care system, Joel being a DILF, that’s it
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It's debated on what's harder: going from no kids to one kid or one kid to two kids. You honestly don't have a lot of skin in the game when it comes to the question because Sarah and Ellie were teenagers when you met Joel. Even then, Sarah was fourteen when Ellie came into their lives and sixteen by the time the adoption paperwork was approved. You thought going from two to three with the birth of Sam would be hard, and it was, but Sam was an amazing baby. He always wanted to cuddle, followed the rules almost to a fault, and rarely threw tantrums. He's the kid that made you think, "Oh, yeah. We could totally do this again." Sophia and Violet, however, have given you a run for your money from the moment you found out you were having twins, and two years later, they haven't stopped. 
True to form, once the girls turn two, you go back to work. Joel is accommodating because, of course, he is. He realizes you put your career on pause for almost two and a half years (if you count the mandated bed rest your doctor put you on at 32 weeks) and is more than happy to let you go and do your thing. He'd been a single dad with no help to a kid before. What's thirty years and a couple extra littles running around? As it turns out, a lot.
The day you return to set, this time as a director instead of an actor, the girls spend the first hour without you crying. Sam, being six and used to his parents' routine, is seemingly unfazed and continues watching Bluey and munching on his breakfast. Sophia and Violet bang on the door, scream and refuse to let Joel even talk to them, let alone pick them up to comfort them. They fight him the entire way to the car to get Sammy to school on time and then cry even harder because "Bammy's going to school." Joel can normally soothe his girls without any issue, but they didn't sleep well the night before and have been wound up all morning. 
When he got home with them, they demanded a snack, but they had to be different because twins. Then, Sophia collapsed in a heap on the floor because Joel peeled her banana for her instead of letting her do it (rookie mistake). The toddler dramatics sent Daisy into action to remedy the situation, which made Violet scream in protest because she suddenly decided she hates when Daisy licks her or anybody for that matter. Poor Daisy didn't know what to do besides scamper off to her bed and watch Joel struggle with big, sad eyes. Then came the drama of what game to play: Princess Tea Party or Princess Dinosaurs, which caused another explosion of unregulated emotions. By the time noon rolls around, he's staring at his phone as he tries to decide whether or not to call you. 
If there's one thing Joel Miller hates more than admitting defeat, it's seeing his kids upset. Everything he tries to do only upsets the girls more and makes him question his parenting skills. How the fuck did you do this for two years? Sure, the kids had their days, but the only time you ever sent him an SOS at work was when Violet had an asthma attack and ended up in the emergency room. Even then, you got all three kids in the car and to the hospital without help. You're a fucking force when it comes to taking care of the kids, and right now, he feels like the worst dad on the planet. After a quick cry in the pantry, while the girls watched Encanto for the umpteenth time and ate lunch, he takes a deep breath and decides he can handle a few more hours. 
With a little more fuss and frustration, he gets Daisy on a leash and the girls in a stroller and walks them down to the neighborhood playground. The change of scenery and the sunshine put the girls in a much better mood. For a blissful hour, the girls run around and play and giggle without a care in the world. Joel does everything from pushing them on the swings to going down the slide with them to letting them play with Daisy off-leash. They have fun until the dreaded hour of nap time creeps up on them. 
Thankfully, the girls (Daisy included) are tired from their adventures on the playground and start the journey home reluctantly. It's getting them to actually go to sleep that's the issue. Every time he tries to leave their room, one of them calls out the saddest "Daddy" he's ever heard in his entire life, and he turns right back around. And it would be fine if his presence wasn't enough to keep the girls awake. He knows that if the girls don't nap, it will only make the day longer and worse for everyone. He sits on the floor between their two beds and tucks a curl behind Violet's ear.
"C'mon Vi Pie, you guys gotta close your eyes and nap," he says quietly. "What can I do to get you to sleep?"
"Call Mommy?" Violet suggests, and he tsks. 
"Honey, you know Mommy's working, but she loves you, and she's gonna be home real soon, okay?" As he speaks, he can see the tears welling in Violet's big brown eyes and turns to see the same tears in Sophia's identical ones. "No. No, please don't cry. Please. You're gonna break my heart." He begs. "What can I do to get you to stop cryin', huh? Y'know, when you two were babies, I used to just hold the both of you and sway and sing to ya and…" he trails off as his eyes land on Ellie's old guitar resting against the wall of the girls' room. She gave it to them when she got her new one and told them they could use it to practice. They don't really do much more than pull at the strings and turn the tuning knobs, but they'll learn. 
He pulls himself up, his knees cracking as he does, and walks over to where the guitar sits. After some tuning and quiet adjustments, he sits on the edge of Sophia's bed and smiles at the two little girls staring at him with sleepy eyes. "Now, I haven't played this one in a while, so you be nice to your old man, but I used to play this for Sarah all the time when she was y'all's age." He says as his fingers find the chords. The girls are enraptured as Joel plays a quiet rendition of My Girl by The Temptations. He changes the lyrics to "My girls/talkin' bout my girls," and they smile as his southern drawl fills the room with warmth and serenity. 
He notices their eyes getting heavier and their blinks getting a little longer each time, so he continues. "I don't need no money/ fortune or fame/ I got all the riches baby/ one man can claim/ well I guess you'd say/'What can make me feel this way?'/ my girls." He sings softly, his own eyes getting heavy with emotion as he thinks a little too hard about the lyrics. It doesn't help that the girls look just like you when they fall asleep. Joel has to cut himself off with a guitar riff to keep his voice from cracking and disrupting the girls. 
He plays another song or two just to make sure they're fully asleep before he carefully puts the guitar down and tucks his girls in. "Love you, Soph a Loaf," he whispers as he kisses Sophia's head. He repeats his actions at the other bed with a gentle, "Love you, Vi Pie," before tiptoeing out of the room. On the other side of the scribbled-on door sits Daisy with a smile on her face as she looks up at Joel. He smiles back and pets her head. 
"My girls." He sings to her, too, making her lean into his touch lovingly and stick close to him even when he goes back downstairs to let the girls rest. 
"Did you write a new song?" You ask that weekend when all the kids are down for the night, and Joel gives you a confused look.
"Not that I know of. Why?" He asks, and you shrug. 
"The girls asked if they could listen to 'Daddy's new song.'” You say. He chuckles and shakes his head. 
"D'you remember the song I used to sing when you were pregnant with the girls?" 
"Of course I do. It was the only way they'd settle down…" You extend your vowels as the connection sparks in your brain. 
"It was the only way I could get 'em to nap earlier this week. Played it on Ellie's guitar and everythin'." He says simply, and you take a deep breath as you stare at him. He's wearing a shirt Ellie helped design to raise money for kids in foster care, but it's stained with nail polish from when the girls decided he needed a manicure before he could play baseball with Sam in the backyard. He took it all in stride and didn't flinch at any of the insane requests your kids threw at him. You sigh and peel your eyes away from him. 
"It's really not fair how good of a dad you are," you sigh. "It's annoyingly hot." He smiles and kisses your cheek smugly. 
"Sorry." 
TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha
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doigtsderose · 6 months
Text
drunken words, sober thoughts
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pairing. — CHOI BEOMGYU x gn! reader genre. — idk angst ? warnings. — mention of alcohol, hope that's all wc. — 451 words.
note — first time posting on tumblr, i'm lit so lost TT, also english isn't my first language so i hope there's no mistakes or stuff!! might (prob will) expand from that cause it's originally part of a longer fic i wrote in french, also srry title is so bad :(
Maybe it was the alcohol in your throat and hand, maybe the weight of it on your shoulders had become too much to bear. Maybe you just wanted to say something that could have been funny because he was making you laugh so much.
The words bubble in your throat, burn your tongue and escape through your lips before you can even think about wether it was a good idea. « You know, it’s funny, I used to have a crush on you back then. Like a year ago, when we were… » 
« closer ? » Beomgyu finishes for you and you nods. You don’t mean it’s funny to have a crush on him because it would be inherently weird. Anyone would have a crush on Choi Beomgyu. It’s just he’s so…  and you’re just you. 
You used to have a crush on him, a stupid crush that you’ve since gotten over. Right ? You were just a kid, a silly girl not believing she could be friend with someone she used to admire so much. 
Truth is, you don’t think you ever really got over it. How else would you explain the way your heart aches and flutters at the same time whenever he’s near. You kept dreaming of him long after you told yourself to stop pinning after him. It’s just that… It’s a lost cause. There’s no chance you could ever end up with him.
« I… I pretty much figured that » he adds, taking another swing of his drink, his gaze evading yours.
Suddenly your drunken confession feels less funny and more humiliating. What does he mean he figured it already ? Were so obvious ? Did you make him uncomfortable ? You part your lips to apologize, but it would make it even more awkward right ? 
God, that’s so you to turn a fun evening sharing drinks with a friend and celebrating into something awkward. The silence is almost deafening as he keeps avoiding looking at you, a pout forming on his face, as if debating speaking again or not.
« Me too. » 
You’re so in your head you don’t even register his words at first. His big eyes you used to drown in search your face, his face tilting ever so slightly in your direction. His hand, warm and big rest on your thigh.
« You too what ? » you chuckle a bit, fearing understanding. 
« I kinda liked you too. Back then. »
Oh. That must explain the signs you thought you were making up. The longing looks, the shared laughs, hands always brushing against each other et so peculiar way he had of draping one arm around your shoulders and pinch your cheeks.
Maybe you weren’t so delusional. 
But it’s too late now. He liked you. Past tense. He doesn’t anymore. 
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muwapsturniolo · 5 days
Text
✯𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐀𝐬 𝐌𝐲 𝐅𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬✯
IN WHICH... i explain my fav songs of the month and how they match with the triplets.
WARNINGS: sex is briefly talked about but its nothing really.
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𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐆𝐎 ☆ 𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐈 𝐅𝐓 𝐉𝐓
I want to start by saying why this is one of my fav songs at the moment. I love Doechii THE BITCH ALWAYS SERVES CUNTTTTTTTT!!!!! this song just does sum to me, it makes me want to go to the ballroom and vouge and do five death drops in a row! the beat, the lyrics, THE MUSIC VIDEO! it reminds me sm of Azelia Banks (that hoe so problematic it's not even funny anymore) and i love it!
now on to why i think this song is perfect for nick
an alter ego is basically a persons second face/persona that we don't see until it's time for it to come out. and one thing i think a lot of people in this fandom forgets is that WE DON'T KNOW THEM! we as viewers have this image of them in our head based off of what they let us see through a screen, and nick doesn't let us forget that. he has stated many times that most of our opinions are wrong (them not being friends with people, la vs Boston debate etc.) and i think that's important.
I'm not saying nick has an alter ego or is two faced,but he is a leo man and them mfs headstrong! and that's what this song breathes!!! it gives a headstrong bad bitch that nobody can say shit to!!! THAT IS NICK!!! NICK ALWAYS PUTTING US AND OTHERS IN PLACE AND ITS NEEDED!!!
"NAH NAH NAH NAH NAH THESE HOES AINT PHASIN ME. NAH NAH NAH NAH NAH BOO BOO BITCH YOU DEAD TO ME" nick does not let this fandom phase him fr. he does wtf he wanna do when he wanna do it. of course he loves us and appreciates us, but he not with our bull shit!!
"UNFAZED UNBOTHERED UNFUCKWITHABLE BITCH, WHY BOTHER?" a lot of people like to sit up here and run they mouth saying nick is so bothered, and he cares too much about what people think. LIE!!!!! YALL JUST DONT UNDERSTAND HIM!!! HES UNFAZED WITH THE BULL SHIT, IT DON'T BOTHER HIM FR!!! HE FINDS THE SHIT FUNNY! HE LIKE MAKING YALL TALK ABOUT HIM BUT HE DONT UNDERSTAND WHY YALL START WITH HIM AND HIS FAMILY IN THE FIRST PLACE.
"IM THE PROBLEM, IM THE VILLIAN. I DONT SEE THESE HOES IN THESE RICK SHEILDS, THROWIN DIRT ON MY NAME AND HE GON HIT STILL!" people love to make nick the villain when he isn't!!! some people fr never had somebody tell them how it is and they just run with the narrative that someone is being mean when they not!!! he not being mean, he keeping it a buck fifty with yall!!! and tbh he don't care if yall see as the villain cuz why? he still got more money than us and we never gon be on his level fr.
@thenickgirl had to let ppl know to stop messing with him!!!!
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𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐈'𝐒 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐒 ☆ 𝐁𝐄𝐘𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐅𝐓 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐄
i want to say this before i start. BEYONCE PUT HER WHOLE MF COOCHIE INTO COWBOY CARTER OMFGGGG!!!! IM SECRECTLY A WHORE FOR COUNTRY MUSIC SO I REALLY FEEL LIKE SHE MADE THIS ALBUM FOR ME!!!
OK LET'S GET INTO IT NO DOJA!
this description is going to be a bit different from Nick's and Chris's because I'm focusing more on the vibe of the song. the whole premise of this song (in my opinion) is two lovers just loving on each other! idk why i get big Matt vibes from this song😭 maybe because i love the idea of Cowboy Matt (before anyone say anything I'm making a Cowboy Matt series! it's already being written!) and yeah i don't have to say much more on that topic.
like yall know when Matt be smiling and giggling at his phone in car videos? i could already imagine his girlfriend sending him a pic of her ass in the new jeans and he just-
lemme stop before i write a whole separate fic for this song.
"YOU CALL ME PRETTY LITTLE THING, AND I LOVE TO TURN HIM ON." matt would deff call his girl a pretty little thing. she would be blushing and kicking her feet an ion blame her!!! and i too would love to turn him on!!
"BOY ILL LET YOU BE MY LEVI JEANS SO YOU CAN HUG THAT ASS ALL DAY LONG" matt would not resist looking at his gf ass and he would deff walk with his hand in her back pocket!!
"SO HOP OUT THE PHONE AND BRING THAT SHIT ON 'CAUSE IM GOING NOSEDIVE" matt the munch. pussy drunk. hurry tf up and bring your ass to him cause he bout to eat you out for hours!!!
thank you for coming to my ted talk on why Cowboy Matt is my fav and i need Matt eating me out ASAP!!!
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𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐓 ☆ 𝐋𝐈𝐋 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐄𝐒
I PROMISE IM NOT ONE OF THE FANS WHO LOVES SKIES CUZ OF CHRIS!!! I WAS LISTENING TO SKIES WHEN LIFE OF A DARK ROSE DROPPED!! i truly loves skies cuz his music just takes me back to the era of SoundCloud and i was actually happy lmao.
onto the topic.
now, i didn't pick this song cuz chris loves skies, i picked it cuz i feel like to a certain degree, it matches chris perfectly!!! lust doesn't have to mean sex, it could be towards money, adrenaline, etc.
Although Skies does talk about sex in this song, i think he's saying that he's lusting after money and the adrenaline that comes with fame and success, but he's lacking the love that was once there and he's lusting for love as well.
i think that relates to chris's whole being. he's constantly spitting out ideas and created his own brand to chase the bag, chase his dreams. i lowkey like to believe chris is an adrenaline junky. not in a sense of jumping off cliffs or anything, more in a sense of just doing stupid shit like fighting with his brothers and suggesting crazy plans.
idk if my description of this makes any sense i just can't put it into words so imma do the lyrics and try to explain further.
"GET IN MY WAY AND TRY TO BLOCK ME IMMA SHOW AGRESSION" this could be towards a person or himself. I'm not saying chris is money hungry, he's just about his bag. he wouldn't like for anyone, including himself to get in the way of making his dreams come true and if they do, i think he gets a bit hostile. it could be him cutting them off, or simply just distancing himself for a bit. if it's himself i think that's when he gets sad and beats himself up. he said it in a few videos that he becomes hard on himself, or he gets sad before bed and i think that's why.
"GOT NO REGRETS, I MADE MISTAKES, BUT I LEARNED FROM MY LESSONS" this lyrics speaks volumes for chris!!!! i feel like it was said by him that he doesn't regret things he's done in the past or experienced, but he's glad he's learned from them. i think all of them are big on "life's a lesson, learn from it." he doesn't dwell too much on the past, it's done and all he can do is move past it and learn to not make the same mistake with people or opportunities.
"DON'T BE ACTING STARSTRUCKED EVERYTIME THEY SHOW YOU LOVE." this could be towards friendships or relationships. it's no secret LA is full of fake people but it's honestly everyone at this point in time. i think chris realized that at some point. just because people smile in your face and act nice don't mean the friendship/relationship is real. people always want something, and its not always love, it could be sex, money, and or fame. it doesn't surprise him anymore. i think that's why he stick to who and what he knows, especially in the relationship sense.
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i think imma do this every month, this was fun lmao. tell me what yall fav songs are atm!!!
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gidaryeong · 4 months
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2023 drama roundup
Unchained Love: I still hum the unhinged flute intro on a regular basis, easily my fave intro of 2023! I didn't actually finish the show due to dwindling interest, but for the first 14 episodes or so I took a keen pleasure in it (and it made me go on a eunuch webnovel spree, expertly curated by @mercipourleslivres). I love it when heroines are allowed to be truly funny, rather than just quirky or ditzy. Also appreciate the goofy Lamp Prince turning into a brutal incel tyrant the moment he got power.
Six Flying Dragons: I don't think I can write anything succinct enough for the roundup format so I direct you to my "my sfd tag" if you want to access my enthused livetweeting. Show of all times, lives were changed.
Tree with Deep Roots: I literally can't think of a better topic for a tv show than Sejong the Great constructing hangul together with his band of nerds, one of whom he has a weirdly intense, vaguely erotic relationship with. Han Suk-kyu carried this entire show on his trembling shoulders. What an actor! What range!!! It was such a treat to watch him smugly debate his ministers, roleplay a farmer, and hiss half-mad soliloquies to himself in the dark. It took nuance and depth to portray the kind of inner conflicts and generational trauma that Sejong battles in the background of this drama. To be honest I didn't always enjoy the Milbon subplot which I felt got repetitive, and often found myself wanting to fast-forward the wuxia scenes. In a better world the show would have centered the whip-smart palace maids and their alphabet workshops. But I will definitely rewatch this soon. And maybe also write a fix-it where Sejong and Soo-yi fuck idk.
Quartet: Cute little murder mystery about a found family of freaks, liked it a lot.
My Country: The New Age: As entertaining as ever. Very fun to rewatch this back to back with Tree with Deep Roots, since Jang Hyuk plays diametrically opposite characters with the same vigor and commitment.
Gone with the Rain: Sometimes you watch something which you understand is technically a masterpiece but it doesn't do anything for you, and sometimes you watch a piece of campy silly fun and it makes you tingle with joy. This was the latter category for me. I liked the first and middle parts enough to make up for the lukewarm fizzle of an ending.
The Autumn Ballad: Has some fucked up elements that are difficult to stomach, but the parts that are good are really good.
Not Others: Bingeable! But imo they could have cut out the stalker/murder cases and just focused on the excellent family drama.
The Matchmakers: This surprisingly swooped in towards the end of the year as my favorite comedy of 2023, all thanks to a rec by @haraxvati. I adore Cho Yi-hyun in this role!!! She is so hot as a shrewd matchmaker with a fake mole and a twinkle in her eye. Love the virgin prince with his yearning-induced panic attacks (Rowoon didn't work for me in The King's Affection in a quite similar role, but he's so much weirder and lamer here, which is something I like in a man). I am obsessed with the side plot of the crossdressing romance novelist and the solemn police officer who is trying to capture her and ends up giving her free home renovations and smouldering looks instead. Also, Park Ji-Young and Lee Hae-Young are two of my favorite villain actors on their own, and here they are married!! Still have a few episodes to go, but I intend to binge them as soon as I post this.
Dramas I dropped or paused:
Our Blossoming Youth: I shipped the heroine and her cute maidservant a little too much to bear the dull prince they stuck her with. But I might rewatch it some day bc I want to write a Sherlock Holmes fic for the girls.
Little Women: A real disappointment, because I love Louisa May Alcott and I love Jeong Seo-kyeong. Once again, letting the women kiss might have solved much of it.
Island: Casting Kim Nam-gil as an expressionless cool-guy action hero offends me personally. (Yes Song of the Bandits I'm giving you the stinky eye also.) But Lee Da-hee and Cha Eun-woo were delightful!
See you in my 19th life: I couldn't, even for my most darling Shin Hye-sun, go beyond episode 1. There's something about a kid dating another kid even though she's a literal adult inside her brain that I can't really vibe with.
My Dearest: I do intend to finish this, but I lost the thread after the first half. It got a little too dark for me I think.
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