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#like DO YOU KNOW HOW DIFFICULT THAT WATER IS TO PAINT??!??!!?
hannahssimblr · 16 hours
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“I have to say, this is an impressive body of work.”
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I shift in my seat, “By impressive do you mean that it’s good, or that there’s a lot of it?”
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This gets a laugh. “Both,” says the man, Paul, flicking through a sketchbook with tattooed hands, fingers stained from nicotine. I notice things like this now. Hands. I notice their lines and their bones, all their interesting details, and perhaps Paul himself could gauge this now as he pours over my figure studies where there are pages upon pages of hands, old and young, my friends, my sisters at the piano, an old woman clutching at a handrail on the train, and my own, a hundred times in different ways, blisters, plasters, hangnails and bruises from the rugby pitch.
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The woman, Ida, shuffles through a stack of watercolour paintings I did last summer, mostly seascapes, the beach and the rushes, the whitewashed houses and rusted iron of the Wexford coast. Just looking at them I can recall the grit of sand under my bare feet as I warmed them on the deck of our holiday home behind my portable easel. In three months I’ll return again for one last summer, and after that I expect I’ll miss it there. 
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“And you said you didn’t do a portfolio preparation year?” She says, peering over the rim of her glasses. 
“No, I’m still at school.”
“Highly unusual for a sixth year,” her eyebrows climb up her forehead, “You've clearly dedicated a lot of time to this.”
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I shrug, “Yeah, I like making art, I don’t know.”
It’s difficult to tell what this woman is thinking. Everything about her is harsh, dramatic, from the sharp fringe that sits straight and neat above her brows to the slash of her mouth, thin lips, pointy chin, hard eyes, but I have to assume for the sake of my own self esteem that she doesn’t positively loathe my portfolio. She spends some time looking through my work, slowly, methodically, sometimes leaning closer to frown at something, maybe some proportion that’s off, bad composition, a clumsy attempt at ambient occlusion that doesn’t hit the mark… 
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“It’s beautiful,” she says simply, and I exhale. 
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“Oh look, a familiar face,” Paul holds a portrait to Ida, “That’s the girl that we were interviewing a few people before this, what was her name again?”
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“Michelle,” I say, “My girlfriend.”
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Paul nods, “Michelle, right! Good likeness,” and places the notebook back onto the table. Leaning back in his chair, he cracks his knuckles, “Look, Jude, there’s no two ways about it here, your work is outstanding. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a portfolio that hits every mark, every requirement and goes beyond, I mean,” he lets out a puff of air and gestures to the table, “this is nuts. And for a sixth year? Come on. This stuff would blow some of our third and fourth year college students out of the water.”
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I feel like I could melt off the chair with relief, but try to suppress my utter delight so that they don’t think I’m too hungry for validation.
“Cool.”
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“It’s the sensitivity,” Ida adds, “Your observation skills, your sense of weight, movement, knowledge of anatomy. It’s rare to see this kind of work from a secondary school student. Your efforts are just… so impressive.”
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“And look, we know it depends on your Leaving Cert points, and yeah, that’ll be a contributing factor when it comes to acceptance, but, like,” Paul looks over the table again, tossing his hands up conclusively, “as far as I’m concerned, we’ll see you in September.”
Ida’s mouth curls into a smile, “We hope. If you choose us.”
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If I choose them? Am I dreaming? How have I become the kind of person who is coveted by an art school? Surely not. Surely soon I’ll wake up and discover that this whole interview has been a product of my dreams. Too much time spent stressing out over art, the requirements, the brief... Almost certainly I’ve fallen asleep somewhere and none of this is real. 
“That’s really kind of you to say. I’m glad you liked my stuff.”
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“Blown away,” says Paul, and he leaps to his feet to shake my hand like I’ve just won a prize, “all we need is a pass in the Leaving Cert, you can surely manage it.”
“Yeah, I’ll make sure I do.”
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They’re smiling at me as I gather up my work, and still smiling as I give them one last sheepish wave from the door, and I realise I am still smiling too as I face the hallway of waiting students, staring at me with portfolios rested against their knees. I probably shouldn’t look too overjoyed, it might knock their confidence, so I try to look very bored instead as I pass by, though I may explode from the inside out.
Beginning // Prev // Next
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alliebirb · 2 years
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rough elemental god concepts from a while back
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frodolives · 5 months
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1850s Tumblr Dashboard Simulator
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👸🏻 girlbossladyjane Follow
It really makes me sick to see people giving money to penny weeklies when Franklin's expedition STILL has not been found 😭 There are good men out there trapped in unimaginable temperatures and literally all that's needed is a little more funding for another rescue mission yet all you guys seem to care about are your vulgar little stories...
🧔🏻‍♂️ queerqueg Follow
the franklin expedition is dead as hell
👸🏻 girlbossladyjane Follow
Disgraceful thing to say but I'd expect nothing more from a M*lville fan
10,558 notes
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👨🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻 hartgrindisreal
Sorry for posting so much about Tom Gradgrind/James Harthouse from Hard Times lately. It turns out that I was getting arsenic poisoning from my wallpaper? Anyway I took a seaside stroll and I'm normal now. Check your walls y'all
#whyyy did i assume they were committing unlawful actions together like where did i even get that from lol #hard times isn't even that good by dickens standards tbh
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🎨 asherbrowndurand
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Just painted this
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ss-arctic-girlie-deactivated18540927
RIP Napoleon... you may have been unable to conquer Alexander's Russia but you sure as hell conquered Alexander's bed
🖼️ preraphaelitebro Follow
HERITAGE POST
📝 shakespearesforehead Follow
How does this have less than 100k notes you could literally not avoid this post back in the 20s lol
82,170 notes
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🌄 loyalromantic Follow
poets just aren't dying young in mysterious water-related incidents like they used to :/
#as useless and degenerative as i find 'the living poets' and i'm glad we're finally moving on from them #i have to agree with op in this respect
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🎀 thefopdiaries Follow
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I finally got a daguerreotype of myself ^_^ Porcelain urn for scaling
📜 bartlebi-thescrivener
i think i hauve consumption
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🐋 whaler4life
They found oil in the ground??? WTF. THIS IS LITERALLY THE WORSTTTT. FUCK MY LIFE FOR REAL THIS TIME
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🌿 naturesnaturalist Follow
I swear this website has 0 reading comprehension skills. Darwin NEVER claimed we "evolved" from apes like if one of you guys actually bothered to open his new book you'll see all his arguments are backed up by evidence. He actually makes a lot of sense
#sure there's nuance like i don't fully agree with all of it #but his general theory of natural selection seems pretty sound imo
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🤵🏻‍♂️ byronicherotournament Follow
🙈 butchbronte Follow
Of course these are the finalists lmao this website is so predictable. Anyway vote Heathcliff if you dont i'm going to assume you're a phrenologist
📖 sapphichelenburns Follow
It's not problematic to acknowledge the fact that Heathcliff was a brute like he literally killed dogs in case you forgot. #rochestersweep
🙈 butchbronte Follow
I love the implication here that Rochester never did anything cruel either. He literally locked his wife in the attic and lied to Jane about it 😭 like that was a pretty significant thing that happened
📖 sapphichelenburns Follow
And? God forbid women do anything
#why'd you have to pit two bad bitches against each other #anyway i'm not attracted to men but still went with rochester #bc in terms of living quarters thornfield hall > wuthering heights easily
8,027 notes
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👨🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻 hartgrindisreal
Not the Russian tsar dying immediately after hartgrind became canon
#i know dickens hasn't technically confirmed it yet but like. SOMETHING was strongly implied ok #see: my previous post #dickensposting
522 notes
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👨🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻 hartgrindisreal
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LORD HELP ME. THE BODY LANGUAGE. THE WAY THEY'RE LOOKING AT EACH OTHER. AHHHHHH
#this installment!!! im-- #dickensposting #i can't fucking cope #dickens wants to KILL us he wants us DEAD....
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⭐️ newamerican
Hi guys sorry I haven't been posting lately it's been so difficult getting to California 💀 I'm finally here now though just need to find a pickaxe and soon I'll be digging! :-) wish me luck lol
#gold #gold rush #gold rush grind #california #adventure
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slttygeto · 4 months
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HUSBAND SUGURU! + PREGNANCY ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
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tags: fem! reader, husband suguru!, nsfw, suguru is very hesitant about being a dad, but isnt forced into this :), reader is very motherly, dirty talk and talk about getting off the pill and being bred.
word count: 2,1k
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Husband Suguru! whom before you even got married, sat you down and mentioned to you how starting a family wasn’t something he was looking forward to. you know of his past, of the trauma he’s been through. he fully expects you to break up with him when he tells you that, knows how much you want to have a baby of your own, but you don’t. instead, you cradle him in your arms and tell him that you love him and appreciate what you have right now, not what you don’t even see in the picture.
Husband Suguru! who swears he hasn’t changed his mind about babies, about starting a family in general even three years into the marriage. but when he sees you with your friend’s baby, the glow on your face, the motherly instinct—how you gently place your hand on the baby’s head, rock her back and forth and coo at her softly while her mother gets her food ready, his heart feels as though it is about to explode.
“There there baby girl,” your voice is barely above a whisper, and when the baby cries, your lip juts out and you pull the infant towards your chest in an attempt at soothing her. your eyes find his where he is sitting on the couch, and the lighthearted chuckle you give him pulls a nervous one out of his body. you are now convinced that your husband would never ever change his mind based on the horror painting his features as he turns to your friend’s husband to strike a conversation. but in reality, the topic of their conversation is all too surprising.
“Has it been difficult? You know, managing a career and taking care of the baby,”
“Oh yeah very,” the other man admits but Suguru doesn’t detect a single hint of regret in his voice. “but yknow, look at that,” he point his glass of water in the direction of his wife and you holding the baby. “seeing my wife with our baby, our creation—seeing her act all motherly like that? Totally worth it.”
Husband Suguru! who starts to consider the idea of getting you pregnant. he hopes for the rational part of his brain to win over, rather than the horny, disgustingly perverted one. but when you walk out of the shower in a crop top, his mind drifts elsewhere—and suddenly, the image of your belly swollen with his kids floods his mind and he has to put a pillow on his crotch to hide the very evident bulge in his pants.
Husband Suguru! who once he calms down and takes care of his raging boner, texts Satoru in a hurry, asking if they could meet up tomorrow morning. your husband tells you of his plans and you hum sleepily, telling him how catching up with his best friend seems like a good idea. Suguru drops the bomb on his best friend the moment they sit down and the ivory haired’s jaw almost meets the floor.
“You mean you wanna be a dad?”
“I’m not…too sure,” Suguru looks conflicted, he is holding his head in his hands. he knows very well that this is a topic that should be discussed with you, since you were the other person of interest in the situation. but he would hate to give you false hope, he’s seen the way your eyes light up at the mention of a baby, at one of your friends or colleagues being pregnant, how there’s a disappointed look on your face that you try so hard to conceal when Suguru gives you a face in response of a pregnancy announcement. but you are so patient, so accepting, you’ve never once forced him into anything. and truth be told, he wanted to see what kind of mother you would be to your baby—and then toddler, and then teenager and adult—you’d have a life together with a new person who would adapt either your personality or his, with a face of the love of his life. your baby could have your eyes and nose, he’s always pointed them out—even before you started dating.
“Dude, do you or do you not want to have a baby?”
“I don’t know man, it’s hard to think of.”
“Because you are thinking too hard about it,” Satoru says nonchalantly and it irks Suguru a little.
“I am not thinking too hard about it—this is a new responsibility, what if I am not fit to be a dad? I could be a failure for all we know—what if I pussy out of it and—“
“I would kill you.” Satoru warns the man and Suguru doesn’t try to hide how he stiffens up. “I am not joking, I would find you and bring you back to her as a sack of bones,”
“I wouldn’t betray her like that…”
“You’re too focused on the aspect of being a bad dad rather than a good one—yknow, you really think that she’d marry someone she doesn’t see fit as the future father of her children?” Satoru has a point. you did mention to him once (when Suguru was nowhere to be seen at a party you all attended) how falling in love with him was the best thing that’s ever happened to you, but the one thing that would top it is if he became a father to your children. Satoru, knowing his best friend’s stance on the topic, reminded you of how terrified the man was of the idea and all you did was give him a reassuring, understanding wave of your hands.
“I know, but I just know he’d love them hard and make them feel as safe as he makes me feel.”
Husband Suguru! who doesn’t really try to bring up the topic of ‘trying for a baby’. he cringes at the thought, feels as though it makes the process less romantic and intimate and more of a robotic task. as he is stripping you of your clothes, he is silent and lets his eyes wander over your figure. you are extremely shy tonight, unable to meet his eyes as his rough, calloused hands brush over the skin of your boobs before bending down to be at eye level with them. he brings the flesh inside his mouth and sucks—and blood rushes down to his groin at the thought of them being filled with milk, heavy and swollen, more sensitive than usual. his teeth graze the skin at an attempt to catch your attention and your thighs squeeze as you meet his eyes.
“Sugu…” your smaller hands rest on his face as he pulls away from your boobs to plant a heated kiss to your lips, effectively pushing you back on the bed. your back gently hits the mattress, and your chest is heaving in anticipation, unsure of what his next move would be.
“Baby,” he finally speaks up, nose brushing against your stomach as he brings his lips to the skin. “how about you drop the pill tomorrow?” he knows how much of a horrible job he is doing at this, but he feels you move, supporting yourself on your elbows.
“w-why would I do that?” your eyebrows are furrowed in confusion, and Suguru wishes to brush his thumb over the tense skin of your forehead.
Suguru is shameless as he kisses further south, planting his kiss above the tuft of your pubic hair before pushing your panties to the side. He parts the lips and gives your clit a kiss before moving to your inner thighs.
“why not? It’s doing horrible things to your body—“ he brushes his nose over your clit as he speaks. “beside, we need you off the pill if we want a baby, don’t you think?” when you don’t react to his words, Suguru looks up only to find you staring down at him with parted lips and eyes glossed over with tears.
“…are you sure?” you ask softly, and your husband swears he could never say no to you if you asked like that all the time.
“very,”
Husband Suguru! who fucks you with a new purpose. each drive of his hips fueling the other to go harder, deeper, to keep pushing his cum inside you and plant his seed deep within. your cunt does a great job at showing Suguru how ecstatic and excited you are with his sudden change of heart. you keep squeezing around him, barely able to keep your sounds in—he fucks you so deeply that the sound of skin to skin is louder than your moans and his groans. when he puts you on all fours, the cum starts to drip out of you but he pushes it back in with two thick fingers, lips pressed to your ass cheek.
“want more?”
“mmm! please,” you whine when he aligns his tips with your folds and fixes your arch with a hand on the small of your back. the gasp that escapes your lips when he fucks into you hard makes Suguru chuckle and he rubs your sides, soothing you.
“no need to beg for it,” he leans down and presses a kiss to your nape. “I’d gladly fill you up.”
Husband Suguru! who stiffens up when you show him the positive pregnancy test. up until this point, he is in control of his emotions—he lets you cry in his arms about how scary all of this was, despite you saying you’ve always wanted a baby. he is supportive, understanding of the heightened emotions that you are experiencing—when he sees your tears turn into happy ones, only half of him is able to relax. clearly, he is nervous but he doesn’t wanna show it. not right now.
The first ultrasound during your pregnancy was nerve racking—your hand squeezed your husband’s as you stared at the screen showing what appeared to be your unborn baby. Very tiny, but still there.
“Okay mom and dad,” the doctor presses the ultrasound transducer a bit lower on your stomach, a small smile on his face. “I got some news for you.”
“Good?” your anxious voice has Suguru rubbing his thumb on the back on your hand.
“It depends, how long have you been trying for this baby?” You couldn’t exactly disclose of your very active sex life, but you do give the doctor hints that it was definitely wanted.
“Well, look over here—“ he points to the screen with his gloved finger, ushering Suguru to come closer. “Look over here dad, what do you see?”
Suguru swallows hard as he stares at the screen in confusion, unsure of what to say. “..a baby?”
“Babies. Congratulations, you’re pregnant with twins.”
Your husband whips his head towards you fast, and you cover your mouth in shock. This wasn’t planned—twins? And for a first time? You didn’t know if the tears streaming down your face were of excitement or fear that maybe you weren’t ready for this.
But Suguru still comforts you, holds you in his arms—tells you that maybe finding out the gender won’t make all of this sound scary anymore. He knew you never really had a preference for gender—you were a natural mom.
However, finding out the gender was an emotional experience for the same man who never thought he would become a father.
Husband Suguru! who tells Satoru to buy the gender reveal cake for you two. he doesn’t want to throw a party, and neither do you. finding out within the privacy of your own home seemed like the best option—you didn’t want to reveal that you were pregnant to any family members—at least not yet.
“Are you ready?” You hold your own glass as you wait for your husband to stand next to you. Your bump wasn’t that evident yet, but signs of pregnancy were starting to show on your body and it brought this warm feeling to Suguru’s body.
“Yeah, hold my hand.” You chuckle slightly at his request but comply either way. Each of you holds their own glass above the cake before looking away as you push it down—you hold your breath, Suguru rests his forehead on your shoulder as he mumbles something about not being able to look at the cake. But you muster up the courage and lift your glass, eyes wide and lips parted in shock.
“Sugu—“ you don’t need to tell him to look, he was already staring at the glass with teary eyes. The pink frosting wasn’t something he was expecting to see—he knew he was going to be happy with either but two little girls? His own baby girls—the thought of being a girl dad brings tears to his eyes and you’re quickly pulling him towards you.
“Oh baby,” you hold back your own tears as you comfort your emotional husband, his arms wrapped around your middle. You hear little sniffles and a hand rubs your back before feeling a pair of lips pressed to your forehead.
“Gonna be the prettiest mom to the prettiest girls. Ever.”   
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note: my posts are all self indulgent at this point… enjoy :D
2023: all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.
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blackpearlblast · 5 months
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[ID: drawings of a golem animated by a palestinian flag painted on its forehead. it is seen: holding out its arms protectively in front of a crowd of children, the children also hold each other supportively; catching an air strike missile from the air and throwing it away or crushing it in its fist; turning its back so that a child can warm her hands by the earth oven built into its back, food in a pot is cooking on the fire and a boy holds a cup of steaming tea to his face and enjoys the aroma; clearing away rubble so a man can help up his wife who was buried underneath, she is clutching a baby to her chest; stooping down to look at a kitten a young boy is holding up to show it; and dissolving small flakes of clay from its finger into a glass of water, purifying it. end ID]
@fairuzfan asked people to create and share art for the strike. i wrote an artist statement and then set about trying to draw what i envisioned. artist statement below.
This golem is a protector that I wish I could gift to the children and adults in Gaza. The flag on its forehead is to show that love for the Palestinian people is an animating force for people fighting for a free Palestine all over the world, especially for those in Palestine who are trying to free themselves and their people. Love is the motivation for the call for a free Palestine, not hatred like people try to claim. It is very strong and fast and can catch air strikes out of midair and crush them to dust or throw them back in the direction they came from. It can lift all the rubble of a collapsed building very quickly so nobody can get trapped underneath. It has an earth oven in its back with an ever-burning flame that people can use to warm themselves and cook food and heat water to use to bathe themselves or make tea. Pieces of its clay can be crumbled up and mixed into water to make even the most brackish and unclean water pure and safe to drink.
The golem is always a bit of a tragic figure so I don't imagine it staying around forever once Palestine is free and it is no longer needed. I think it would use its great strength to help rebuild the destroyed houses, churches, schools, universities, hospitals, and mosques and then dive into the Jordan river and dissolve. It would clean the river of all pollution and make the water splash up over all the newly replanted fruit trees, causing them to grow big and strong. Its love for Palestine and its people can be tasted in the fruit they grow for generations.
I choose a specifically Jewish icon of protection because of how it feels to witness such horrors done in the supposed name of Judaism and the Jewish people. For many anti-zionist Jews, we feel like we are acting directly within the teachings of our stories and communities by opposing this genocide. It is difficult to understand how the very people and institutions who taught us these values now fight against them so fiercely. While obviously I would still oppose Israel were I not Jewish, the way I oppose Israel is directly informed by my Jewishness. I hope that someday, somehow, Judaism can bring as much joy and support to the Palestinian people as it has brought grief and destruction. That Jewish symbols used in the name of love and justice will bear more significance than the ones used in shows of hatred. Knowing the depth of the harm caused, I do not know if this is possible. But this artwork and everything I have dedicated myself to these past few months and continue to dedicate myself to in the future is born from this hope. I love you. Thank you for being on this planet with me. From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free! And it will be beautiful.
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teamatsumu · 3 months
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purple and pink. (rafayel x reader)
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summary: you and rafayel cover yourselves in paint and (redacted).
word count: 3450
warnings: porn without plot, smut, swearing, nsfw, mdni, fem!reader
tags: @keiva1000 @kindnessspreads @msbyomimi
a/n: my brain is rotting for this man so this is just self indulgent crap atp
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You weren’t exactly an artistic person.
You just never indulged in art before. Of course, you admired the craft and thought it was extremely difficult to actually create meaningful art. But you didn’t think you were a particularly creative person, nor did you think you had an eye for such stuff.
Ever since you began dating Rafayel, you would say your appreciation for art had definitely improved. How could it not, considering he spent all day creating it, and in the time he wasn’t, his world was still colored by the lens of it. Rafayel saw art everywhere he went, in the gentle roll of the water where it rippled in fountains, or the timid but pinpoint light of a lone star in a dark sky. He loved describing it to you, and the way he put it would make you look around twice. He had really changed the way you viewed the world.
What you were about to do now wasn’t exactly the kind of art that made you think deeply of the universe, but hey, not all art can make you question your existence. Sometimes you need to create….. lighter pieces.
Stepping back, you stared down at the bed sheet sized canvas you had stuck to the floor, sure that you had used enough adhesive to keep it temporarily in place. The clock on the far wall of the studio told you that Rafayel would be home in a little while, which meant you needed to start the next phase of your plan shortly. But first things first, you needed lighter clothes.
After you had switched your jeans and button down shirt for a thin, short robe, you began pulling down buckets of paint from the storage closet connecting to the main studio. You chose only two, a light purple and a light pink. Both colors you knew Rafayel liked using in his pieces. You might not know a whole lot about art, but you knew him inside out. And you also knew he would love this idea.
You spent the next few minutes going over the canvas with the two buckets, pouring a few globs of paint over it. Small, but dense, with lots of blank canvas around them so they could be spread. You decided to only do two or three globs of each color. After all, wasn’t the art in how the colors would move and slide on the canvas? This should be enough paint for that purpose.
Your face was heating up at the thought of what was about to happen, and you felt almost giddy. When was he going to be home? You couldn’t wait to get started.
As if on cue, the door of the studio clicked open, not making a single sound as your boyfriend lumbered in, closing the door behind him. His white shirt was loose, black pants tight, and you couldn’t help but admire his ass when he turned around to shut the door with a light snap.
“Hey-” He stopped almost immediately upon seeing you, eyeing the half empty paint can you were setting down and the flimsy robe covering your body. A body that was definitely naked under it.
“What are you doing?” You saw his eyes flick over you and then behind to eye the massive canvas you had laid out, along with the little circles of paint looking fresh and shiny on it. You gave him a grin.
“I was hoping we could collaborate for your next piece.” You tugged at his shirt until you both stood closer to the canvas, taking special joy in how confused he looked. His eyes kept darting all over the place to try and make sense of what was going on, and you had to stifle a giggle.
You thought to elaborate on your suggestion by slowly unbuttoning his crisp white shirt. Rafayel raised his eyebrows but didn’t stop you, probably curious to see what you were cooking. You tugged his shirt off his toned shoulders, before going to work on his pants. His hand finally seized yours, tilting his head so your eyes would meet his.
“You wanna tell me what’s going on?” His tone was amused. You hummed almost in thought, pulling your hand away. You tugged on the belt of your robe until it slipped free, and the front fell open. You saw the tips of Rafayel’s ears turn red, and his expression blanked a bit.
“You have paint. You have a canvas. And you have me.” Your voice was a low whisper. You reached into the bucket next to you, palms stretched, until they were both covered in paint. Then you reached one hand up and dragged your fingertips over his bare abs.
The cool paint made them contract a bit, and you heard the way his breath hitched under the touch. Four long streaks of pink now stood out against his pale skin. Finally, you looked back up to meet his gaze, his face inches from yours.
Rafayel’s blush had extended from his ears down to his neck, but the corner of his lip twitched up into a slow grin. His hands were eager as he undid the button of his pants, and you felt a thrill run up your spine. You watched him undress quickly. He was slow, smooth, as he lifted one precise hand to tug on the shoulder of your loose robe until it was falling off your shoulders and pooling at your feet.
He looked around and his eyes caught the second can of paint. Purple. He dipped his hands into it, and you watched him walk back over to you.
“Where did you get this idea, baby?” His voice had lost its confusion, coated in honey now, sultry and low, nearly a whisper, and you shivered when his breath hit your bare neck. He took advantage of the fact that your hair was pulled up and away from your shoulders, tracing gentle lips over the slope of your shoulder. Instinctively, your hands smoothed over his torso, and you were reminded of the paint on them, still wet, now swiped onto the man before you.
Rafayel hummed at the feeling and proceeded to return the favor, his hands set on your hips. The paint was cool on your skin, and you almost jumped at the temperature if it weren’t for his warm hands taking the feeling away in the next second. Your boyfriend gave your naked bodies a gentle tug backwards until you were stepping on paper, slight crinkling noises hitting your ears.
Gentle lips now made contact with yours, and you sighed in relief. You had missed this, just the feeling of him kissing you. You had been thinking about it- and other things- all day, and you were so excited to start. Hands caressed over each other slowly but eagerly, and you couldn’t even begin to imagine how much paint you had managed to get on each other.
Your kisses became more hurried, more firm, and you could feel Rafayel’s body temperature rise a bit. His breath stuttered when you moaned into his mouth, tongues dancing together in a synchronized battle. He nibbled at your bottom lip and you arched deeply into him, nails digging into his biceps.
“Fuck, the paint is drying.” You managed to gasp out when your lips separated, his mouth finding the skin behind your ear immediately. He sucked hard on it, until you shivered and let out a long, shaky breath. Your knees were so weak, and you were glad for his strong arms wrapped around your waist, since it was the only thing currently holding you up.
He hummed against your skin, not letting up on the marks he was marring it with. You had discovered pretty early on that Rafayel was a biter, and marks on your skin was another way he created art. It just so happened that you enjoyed the feeling more than you could ever think to describe.
“Good thing you laid more out for us then.” He responded, referring to the globs just below your feet, before tugging you down until you were sprawled on the canvas below you. It was cool under your skin, and you felt something wet just under your shoulder. Oh. Your eyes met Rafayel’s before they finally traveled down his body for the first time since you two had started. You gulped in a deep breath.
His pale skin was covered in purple and pink streaks, like smooth color streaked over brilliant porcelain. The ridges and bumps of his muscles stood out even more under the paint, and you could tell in a few places the exact route your hands had taken, pink running over his waist and down his V-line. The remnants of the journey your fingers took stood before you, proud on his skin. You felt a thrill run through you at the sight, something stirred in your core.
“This is turning you on.” Rafayel observed, a light smirk resting on his face. You felt your body burn at the teasing lilt of his voice.
“As if this isn’t something you’ve dreamed of doing.” You retaliated, opening your legs so he could fit himself between them, resting his elbows on either side of you so your faces were a hairbreadth away. He hummed and sighed, lowering his body until his erection grazed right over your center, making you gasp.
“Believe me, I’ve dreamed of this.” He sighed, reached for the paint to the left and just above your head. You watched him cover his palm with it before he reached down, hooking a hand under your knee and pulling it up until it folded against your torso. The paint was wet on your skin, and you were learning to love the feeling more and more. His cock prodded your entrance, now on full display for him. He gave you another mischievous smirk.
“Baby I’m about to ruin you so bad.”
The first slide of him inside you had you crying out and arching into him, his cock carving its way through your unprepped hole and bringing with it a burn so delicious it made your head spin. When he bottomed out, he moaned unabashedly into your ear, hot breath hitting the shell of it and sending shivers through your spine. Your core clenched and unclenched rapidly, trying to adjust to the glorious intrusion. Your brain screamed at him to move, to slide in and out, do anything at all. You needed to feel him rock into you. Your hips twitched and jerked, making your boyfriend moan before he finally started moving.
His thrusts started out languid, smooth, gliding in and out of you at a reasonable pace. You sighed, head leaned back and reveling in the feeling it brought, leg tensing under his grip. Little tendrils of pleasure zipped up from where you were connected, heavy cock stretching you open until your pussy was adequately wet, ready to take the pounding you knew was inevitably coming your way.
And oh, did you receive it.
Slowly, steadily, Rafayel picked up the pace until his hips were smacking hard into your pelvis, knocking every breath from your lungs. You cried out, one arm thrown over his shoulder while the other seeked desperate purchase under you, used to the feeling of silk sheets but now met with nothing but smooth, stretched out canvas and the wet sensation of sticky color. Rafayel used the grip he had on your knee to twist your leg out further, inviting him to hit that one spot that made you see stars. A broken wail left your mouth and your back arched impossibly high, hearing a low moan hit your ear when you clenched tight around the cock pounding into you.
“F-fuck, Rafi-” His head lifted, just enough to connect your lips in a desperate slurry of rushed kisses, sucking and biting on your lips as his pace didn’t so much as stutter. Your moans dissolved straight into his mouth, little pornographic ‘yeah, yeah, yeah’s slipping out with every thrust. You didn’t bother muffling them, knowing exactly what the noises did for Rafayel’s ego, and with how he was ravishing you currently, you were okay with giving him a little ego boost.
(You would deal with the consequences of that later.)
“Gonna cum-” You managed to choke out just as your orgasm rammed into you with no warning, effectively silencing any other words as you cried and shook through it, muscles seized tight and legs kicking in the air.
“God- fuck,” Rafayel’s first words. “There you go. Fuck, that’s it.”
He fucked you through the last vestiges of your high before his arms slipped under your arched waist and lifted you up, rolling over until you were perched on his hips, throbbing cock still nestled inside you. The change in position made him slide in deeper, and you let out a broken moan. Your orgasm was still lingering around the edges, encouraging you to prolong the feeling, to chase after it again. And so you did. You rolled your hips, placing your hands on Rafayel’s abs as leverage to push your body up and down. You finally took a good look at your boyfriend.
His chest was heaving with exertion, shining under the glow of the lights above you, catching on the swirling mixes of purple and pink. Under the paint, his skin glistened with sweat, tensing and straining under his movements. The paint had reached all the way up the side of his neck, and even into his hair, blending with the purple tresses. The purple complimented his eyes, half lidded and heavy with lust, his lip was tucked under his teeth.
He was a vision.
“Baby, you’re so fucking beautiful.” His voice was fractured and strained, and in your staring you had forgotten that you were also the object of his gaze. You couldn’t imagine how you looked right now, slathered with paint and hot under the stimulation you were receiving, strands of hair leaving your bun and trailing down over your face and neck. You rolled your hips and tightened hard around his cock, watching the way his jaw slackened and eyes rolled shut. Another zip of pleasure ran through you, and you couldn’t help but keen, pushing yourself to go faster, to make him feel even better.
“I’m- I’m so close.” You could feel your vision swim, tears gathering in your lash line as his cock dug deep into your core, prodding into your spongy walls in all the right ways. Rafayel grabbed both your wrists off his chest, pulling them behind your back and then tugging you down until your body was pinned tight against his. You let him do as he pleased, planting his feet on the canvas before he started thrusting hard and fast up into your sopping cunt.
You screamed and arched, body tensing at the pace he set, chin resting on his shoulder and head thrown back as you let him carry you face first into another orgasm, gushing around him until the sounds of his thrusts grew impossibly wetter, sloppier than the paint around you and covering you, blabbering incoherent phrases and curses as tears poured from your eyes. With every thrust, the ecstasy prolonged itself, like an endless high that came with intense drugs, except all you needed was him, and he would get you there if it was the last thing he did.
Your perspective was shifting, Rafayel’s cock leaving you until you felt cold and empty. He maneuvered you onto your hands and knees, or rather, arms and knees since you felt that you couldn’t even hold yourself up at this point. A firm hand pushed on your back until it arched to his liking, spreading you until he could slide his massive length back into you with little to no resistance. You whimpered pathetically, eyes rolling unhindered in your head, cheek smushed into the paper beneath you. Briefly, you felt like you could almost taste the paint, but the thought left your brain faster than cigarette smoke dissipating on a windy day when Rafayel started moving again.
“Stop me if you can’t take it.”
You could never, would never stop him, not when your pussy keened at the feeling of his cock filling you up to fulfillment once more. Especially not when he planted a foot on your side that gave him leverage to thrust harder and stronger into you. Your body buzzed and reveled under the feeling of being used like this, basking in the sounds coming from Rafayel getting heavier and choppier as he finally chased his own orgasm instead of yours. You wanted nothing more than for him to warm you up, fill you with his seed until you couldn’t take any more of it. Your depraved mind was wiped blank of everything else except that crushing need.
“Cum in me.” You managed to whine, clenching hard around him. Rafayel moaned and his hips stuttered.
“Fuck. I’m gonna- I’m cumming baby, take it, take it, take it, take it-” Your body jostled at the strength of his thrusts, once, twice, and then he was slamming his cock deep into you and holding it there, hot spurts of cum hitting your walls. Painting your insides white like your bodies had painted your outsides purple and pink.
Your entire body collapsed on itself when Rafayel pulled out, dropping onto the paper heavily as you tried to catch your breath. Your vision was swimming and so was your head, unable to do anything but focus on the faint buzz in your muscles. You could hear shuffling somewhere behind you before you were being lifted into strong arms. You sighed and curled into them, seeking the warmth of your boyfriend after the beating your body just took. And he was happy to provide it- in the tub he ran for you while both of you settled into warm water.
You dozed in and out of sleep as Rafayel cleaned you up, giggling and humming along with whatever little anecdotes he was telling you. He knew you would barely remember most of it later, considering how dopey and spacey you got after sex. You pouted and leaned up to him every few minutes, stealing tiny kisses from his lips. And afterwards, you let him pat you dry and put you to bed in the usual “princess treatment” he gave you after one of your sessions. The only time he backed off from teasing you relentlessly and instead doted on you properly.
You couldn’t tell how long you slept, but you woke up feeling well rested. The bed next to you was empty but still slightly warm, and you could hear quiet shuffling outside in the studio.
Your muscles screamed when you forced them to move, your hips and thighs feeling like particular sore spots. You ignored the feeling in favor of pulling a shirt off the floor to throw over your body, realizing it was your boyfriend’s when it fell all the way to your thighs. You trudged out of the room while rubbing the sleep from your eyes. You saw him standing with his back to you, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. The muscles of his bare back shifted as he moved, now clear of all the paint you two had slathered on it. Oh right, the paint.
Your eyes shifted behind him to the canvas, which Rafayel had propped up against the wall now, and was observing silently. You walked closer to admire the streaks of pink and purple on it, watching it carefully. Somehow, the choppy strokes showed your desperation, your passion, and you felt your face heat up at the thought.
“Looks pretty.” Your voice was slightly rough. Rafayel turned around at the sound and gave you a soft smile, pulling you closer and wrapping his arms around you from behind as you both stared. You settled into his warmth as you swayed gently back and forth.
“Why’re you thinking so hard about it?” You asked.
You turned your head to watch as he huffed and pouted a bit. He looked so cute, you bit back the urge to squish his cheeks.
“Pretty sure there’s some cum in there somewhere.”
Aaaaaand the urge was gone.
You smacked his chest hard, making him jerk back and laugh, but not releasing his hold on you.
“You’re disgusting.”
“Not more than you.”
He kissed you before you could land another smack, hand cupping your jaw to tilt your head back. You fought to keep a grin down, but failed when you felt his lips stretch with a smile of his own, erupting into giggles.
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pandoraslxna · 4 months
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Luna love PLEASEEEEE HEAR ME OUT‼️ Dilf!Jake getting mad at human!reader when he catches her on her room in the science lab using toys instead of him (that are not even close to his length btw), and fucking her dumb. Like fucking some senses to her, with degradation kink pretty please?
Pent up and stressed out
Jake Sully x female human reader
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Words: 3.7k
Summary: Jake knows just the way to help you relief some of that pent up frustration.
Warnings: explicit smut, use of toys, caught masturbating, age difference, size difference, p in v, oral, degradation, praise, dirty talk, use of daddy (once), brat tamer dilf!jake
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It was the melting-pot of earths greatest minds, a central locus for innovation and invention, a modern day renaissance. It was where scientists went to work on the next next best thing, before the next best thing had even arrived. It was where everyone who was anyone in the scientific community would go to start a new life and get their hands dirty on real science. And of course, the science at the RDA’s Laboratories was very real –and very dangerous. But what's life without risks? If life gives you lemons, use the decaying remains of those lemons to invent the best damn anti-lemon device possible! (And maybe colonize the poor Lemon farmers home too, while you’re at it.)
Well, at least, that was the marketing for Pandora. And to be honest, in the very beginning it was this ideal (and quirky) view of how the RDA worked that you had fallen in love with all those years ago when you worked there as an intern. That was, before you figured what these limb dicks were actually doing here.
Of course they don’t tell you about that war stuff back on earth. They don’t tell you about the natives, the blood that will stick on your hands, the flora and fauna they promised you to study to be burned to ashes because apparently mankind needs apartments and streets and fucking beer on this exomoon.
You were tired of how things worked. You were tired of the long hours, of snappy managers, of being shuffled from lab to lab for no apparent reason, of working on projects for six months at a time and then being told they were cancelled –and sometimes finding out later that some of them had been handed to a different scientific team. You were tired of how cavalier some of the higher-ups seemed about handling dangerous technology and killing innocents. And you were tired of the secrecy about this insanely morally wrong war.
That’s when you had decided to switch sides. Of course switching to the human / na‘vi revolution might’ve been the morally correct way, but what they don’t show you in the contract is, that this path doesn’t come with the luxury of working at high technology laboratories with dozens and dozens of other scientists to share this massive amount of work with. It doesn’t come with unlimited food, water, electricity and other much needed resources. Oh and remind me, who was complaining about the long hours at the RDA earlier? Yeah, that was pretty much nothing, compared to the fact that you hadn’t touched your bed in forty-nine hours.
Life on Pandora had definitely not been what you had expected when you first arrived here. The only difference now was, that you now did it with pleasure instead of guilt.
Working in the labs at high camp was probably the best thing that could’ve happened to you, but doing the right things never comes easy.
Sure, it took a while to get used to the power running out every few days and having to bath in a river, eating whatever the forest gives and oh, let’s not forget the eight feet tall, blue teenagers lingering around in your work space accompanied by a half naked tarzan with painted on stripes, making it extremely difficult to focus on your work.
Speaking of concentration…
"Kid, why the hell are you still here?"
"Huh, w-what?" You awoke with a start, and for a moment you didn't know where you even were. Your neck hurt as you lifted it up, rubbing the sleep away in your tired eyes only to be met with a pair of blue, muscular thighs standing right in front of your desk. Immediately, your gaze shoots all the way up.
“I said, why the hell are you still here?", Jake furrows his brows as he glares down at you, crossing his arms over his chest. "It's almost 3 am and this is the second night in a row that I catch you in here. Go. home."
"Jake we talked about this before", you roll your eyes at him, pushing away from the desk to walk over to where some of the scientists lockers stand. "I‘ll go, once I get this shit done." You make a gesture in the air to point at the petridish on your desk, with five ar'lek seeds inside. The healing potential of those seeds was something you’ve always took great interest in, especially during times where more of this medicine was needed than the Na‘vi could even harvest.
"No, you’re leaving right now", the clans Olo'eyktan and former marine said sternly. "No damn plant can be this important you’re loosing two days of sleep over it."
"Oh tell me about it…", you mumbled under your breath as you fiddled with the lock, flung the door open and reached for a small blue container. You unscrewed the lid and tipped the container ever so slightly. Out onto your outstretched hand popped two capsules, their smooth surface reflecting the fluorescent lights placed far above you. Down you gulped them, and up reached a hand to grasp a bottle of water. You took a swig.
Another day, another pill, another length of sanity in a place of madness.
The na‘vi behind you quirks a brow, "What was that?"
"Uh, this?", you shake the blue container and the pills inside rattle demonstrative. "Norm bought them from the raid last week. It’s a food substitutes. Helps me concentrate."
Caffeine in a pill, basically.
Jake let’s out a heavy sigh as he circles the desk and approaches you, the equipment and furniture around him looking comically small.
"You don’t needs pills, kid", he says, taking the container from you and placing in inside the locker a little harder than necessary to bring his point across. He’s towering over you without even trying, and you have to crane your neck all the way up to properly look at him. "What you need is sleep and a way to relief of all of that pent up stress. You’re here all the time, do you even eat? Have some time for yourself? When’s the last time you took a shower, huh?"
God, this man was a dad through and through.
You didn’t know if it was the difference in age or just his general authority, but whatever it was that made him talk to you like you were nothing but a fussy teenager, it was getting on your nerves. Even more than usually.
"Ha-ha very funny. Next you tell me to go visit a spa over the weekend. Oh, thanks boss that’s so kind of you for giving me a couple of days off", your voice had turned into a mocking tone, which makes both of his eyebrows raise in amusement. He cocks his head to the side, waiting for you to keep going, but your gaze only drops in embarrassment. "Leave me alone, Jake. I’ve got work to do…"
"See, that’s exactly what I’m talking about", he chuckles and shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"What?" You almost bark at him.
"You’re pent up. Quit acting like a little brat, go home and take care of it. Or I will."
Take care of it. Jake’s words whispered over and over and over in your head, a rolling loop that you thought might actually drive you insane. It’s not like you didn’t try, you really did. But as tempting as your bed might seemed to you, as tired as you were when you dragged yourself back to hells gate, you just couldn’t rest, couldn’t will yourself to sleep.
You’ve always spent your days with your mind full to the brim with various theories, studies and seemingly endless responsibilities, so much so that you often found it difficult to empty your mind for sleep. Sometimes you would recite the na’vi names of plants to yourself in your head ("Panopyra, Pamtseowll, puríhsa..."), over and over, like counting sheep, trying to memorize their names. You would take a quick jog around the building, read a book or sometimes even meditate. But some other times you simply preferred another method of relaxation.
Take care of it. Or I will.
He could be so insufferable when he was bossing you around, you thought to yourself with a heavy sigh as you let your hands run down your curves, feeling the soft swell of your breasts, over your stomach and the hem of your pyjama shirt.
"Is that an order, sir?", you grumble to yourself, mentally rolling your eyes at him as your fingers skim past the waistband of your shorts.
But eywa bless him to whatever heaven existed, this man was truly gifted with a body that served as material for your wettest dreams and dirtiest fantasies more than once before.
There had to be some rule against woman finding men around their fathers age hot. Men whose authority made them ten times more attractive, but just as annoying when they were treating you like a kid. Men that were exotic and alien and blue and tall and— There had to be some law that– that could protect you from the man that Jake Sully was. There had to be something in the books about dealing with this, with him. Especially if the only way you knew how to deal with whatever feelings you harbored for the much older ex-marine, was with busying your hands between your spread thighs.
Instantly, there’s this sensation, hot and burning and you allow it to rise within your core— allow it, and welcome it. You exhale softly, and the slick, wet feeling under your fingertips gives you a gratifying sense of accomplishment, fueling you to circle over your clit, gentle at first, but slowly adding more pressure over time. Your other hand clasps over your mouth, barely able to stifle a moan as the other finger that had been teasing your entrance slowly slips inside.
Breathlessly, you feel your head dip back further, as you recognize the heat slowly building, radiating from your core. Gyrating your hips, the feeling of wetness and pleasure builds within yourself, enough to make your hips buck up against your own hands. Thrusting your fingers in and out, you huff out a frustrated breath when you realize it’s not nearly enough to take the edge off.
Withdrawing your hands, you reach for your nightstand and pull the upper drawer open. It reveals a set of various toys, different colors and sizes, and you don’t need to think twice before you grab the biggest one and settle yourself back into the comfort of your pillow. It’s a blue dildo. Of-fucking-course.
It takes a few tries, the tension slips for a moment or two, but soon, you find the right angle to allow the slippery toy to slip inside and caress the spot you‘ve been seeking. More pleasure begins to wash over you, not unlike waves washing ashore, as you build up the tension your body craves you to chase. Your fingertips run in circles over your clit as you push the toy inside and angle it up, dragging the silicon tip along your soft, spongy walls and you moan, loud and wanton.
Your toes curl tightly as you approach what might just be the state of bliss you‘ve been seeking. The verge of Nirvana, quite literally, at your fingertips. Inhaling sharply, you feel that pleasure intensify and spread throughout your entire body. Your toes curl tighter, though you’re only vaguely aware of it for a moment.
Squeezing your eyes shut, your head lolls from side to side, before you pry your eyes open and glance between your spread thighs. The toy glistens in your arousal when you pull it out and your legs quiver when you push it back inside. In your lustful haze, it takes a few more thrusts, and then your eyes finally land on the door in front of your bed; widen open, with a big blue silhouette leaning against the metal frame, arms crossed over his chest and head tilted to the side in his telltale stance.
Your movements stop altogether.
"J-Jake!?" You shriek, clenching your thighs shut.
"Hey, sweetheart", he grins lazily, then pushes off the doorframe to approach you.
"What are you–"
"Thought I’d check on you", he cuts you off and the sway of his tail behind his back reminds you of a cat that just caught a mouse. "See if you arrived home safe and sound, and took care of that little problem how I told you to."
The mattress then dips as he puts a knee on top of it and reaches for your ankle. You squeak when he pulls your towards him with barely any effort, then spreads your thighs with his entirely too big hands on either one of your legs.
"Looks like you needed it bad, huh?", he chuckles and a deep flush of embarrassment settles on your face when he twists the toy inside you and then gently pulls it out. "But you could’ve just asked, you know? Instead of using these pathetic little toys. No wonder you’re always this pent up when that’s what you’re using."
The toys is tossed aside before you can open your mouth to object, your chest heaving in frantic pants as he kneels onto your bed with a creak of your old mattress.
"Jake..?", you whisper, the sudden, uncertain tone in your voice making him lick his lips in anticipation as you pushed yourself up on your elbows.
"Shhh, let daddy take care of you, yeah? Gonna relief some of that stress so my little brat knows how to behave again. That sound good?", he asked, with a fucking smug shit-eating grin. If only your face wasn’t bright red in flustered embarrassment, Jake would’ve taken the provocative roll of your eyes more seriously as you let yourself fall back against the sheets.
"Not a brat…", you mumble, but your eyebrows are only knit together for a second before they shoot up in surprise when grabs the underside of your knees and folds your legs so your ankles almost touch your ears. "F-Fucking, sh– ah!" The moan breaks out of you in a wheezed curse the very moment Jake’s tongue goes flat between your wet folds and his lips close around your clit.
He starts rather roughly, sucking hard on that little bundle of nerves until tears prick at the corner of your eyes. His tongue dips down to lap at your arousal, groaning against you as he pushes past your entrance and fucks you on his tongue. Your moans turn into wails, legs helplessly twitching as he keeps them bend to devour you.
You couldn’t hold out for long, not against the way he knowingly toyed with you, suckling and flicking over your clit, the strange growl he made between filthy slurps vibrating against it. You heard your own voice, a soft river of sounds, murmuring words that weren’t words, curses and moans as you felt the release start to pool in your belly, hot and tingling and restless. Until you couldn’t fight it anymore, thighs trembling around his face and you came with a gasp of his name.
But Jake doesn’t stop, doesn’t stop until your shaking from overstimulation, until your slick is running down his chin and even then, a desperate sound of frustration escapes you when he finally lifts his head up from between your thighs. The waves of your first orgasm had barely subsided, just to the point where your limbs felt heavy, your body drained and wrung out, but it wasn’t enough. You needed more, and it made him laugh, how needy you are.
"Noo", you complain, "don’t– don’t stop!"
"Ah, don’t worry sweetheart I’m only getting started", Jake promises with a dirty smile, shuffling his hips closer to yours before he pulls down his loincloth just enough to reveal his throbbing cock. There’s a certain glint in his eyes as he watches you swallow thickly at the sight. Fuck, he’s big.
"Been acting like such a desperate slut, rolling your eyes at me and talking back under your breath", he says lowly. Jake keeps you in this bend position, but takes hold of his cock at the very base before he drags his tip through your spit and arousal slicked folds. "Should’ve already put you in your place weeks ago", he goes on, "But I knew you just needed your needy little holes filled by a big cock, right?" He pauses for a second, and then you feel the mushroom-like tip prodding against your entrance. "Needed to be fucked like the slut you are. Don‘t worry, doll face. M‘gonna fuck you right to sleep, help you relax reaaal good." And then he pushes inside.
The stretch makes you choke on a scream that threatens to rise through your body and Jake groans at the suffocating heat around his length. "Shit baby, still so fuckin‘ tight, ain’t ya?"
Your hands reach out for his biceps, short nails digging into his skin, sinking crescents into the blue stripes on his arm, your whole body quivering, mind fuzzed with a long-forgotten drowsy sort of bliss.
"Feel me stretching you out? Those damn toys didn’t even loosen you up one bit." Jake grins. His lips are on yours then, his mouth claiming, and he swallows any sounds you might have made as you fit together like a hand in a too-small glove.
He moves, only a little, the springs groan and squeak as he rolls his hips, slow at first, then faster. Your lips are bruised by the time he breaks the kiss and his shoulders are scratched and he’s somehow even deeper, and then his thrusts turn harder.
He’s hot and heavy on top of you and it’s making you tingle and shiver all over.
Jake fucks you with precision, the tip of his cock hammers against your cervix, dragging along your g-spot on the way and it makes your eyes roll all the back inside your head.
"Yeah, that’s how it’s supposed to feel", he chuckles, the sound cutting off into a low groan as he licks away the spit from your bottom lip. "Look at my little slut drooling fr‘me."
Your wet, velvety-like walls are heavenly, warm and constricting him and getting even tighter when he increases his pace. In no time, you were all but melting in his hold, moaning out nonsense that was like music to his ears. Every time Jake’s cock brushed against your g-spot, your moans turned louder and your toes curled into your soles.
"Jesus, baby. You feel so good around me, perfect little cock sleeve."
The sounds he knocked out of you with the sheer force of his thrusts soon turn needy and higher pitched, as he was driving you over the edge faster than you could even proceed it.
"T-There, fuck Jake, right- right there", you mewl, sucking in your bottom lip between your teeth. The man above you groans, half a grin pulling at the corner of his lips before he aims his hips to hit that spongey spot inside you even harder.
"Where, here? That your special spot, hm?"
"Uh-huh, yes! Yes, fucking shi– oh my god!" Your walls pulsate around him, squeezing and clenching his shaft. God, you were so close it almost hurt.
"Hmh, can feel you clenching, baby. You like it that much?", Jake chuckled, and you could only muster the strength to nod weakly. "Gonna come fr‘me, yeah?"
His hips only increased their pace from there, taking you harder, hands holding you tighter, tail coiling around your ankle to spread your legs impossibly wider and you felt so full, it was hard to imagine that there was any more room inside you, not even for his cum. And that thought alone was enough to tip you over the edge with a full body shiver.
His name falls from your spit slicked lips in incoherent brabbles and moans, greedily pleading for more, more more, until—
"Coming! I‘m coming!"
"Look at you", Jake mutters and he sounds so wrecked, so reverent and pleased with himself. "Gorgeous, so pretty when you come on my cock, sweetheart. You needed this, didn’t you? Good girl, you’re doing so good.”
Jake certainly knows what he’s talking about because if only there was a mirror where you could see yourself– You looked completely obscene, folded like a little pretzel, skin flushed with exertion and sheened with sweat while your hair is matted on your forehead. There’s saliva pooling at the corners of your mouth from where you had been unashamedly panting, lips red and plump from kissing and sucking on his tongue.
“My perfect little slut.” Jake pants out, snapping his hips ruthlessly into you, helping you ride out your orgasm.
Jesus, you were a real sight. It makes his balls tighten up and his cock throb inside you.
He was drinking up every sweet little moan and gasp he elicited out of you like this, groaning, before he finally pumped you full of his hot cum, until it leaked out around his girth. "Oh, fuck", Jake murmured and he sounded so far away, thick and rough. Your pussy squelched as he continued to lazily thrust into you. He groans, shattered, hips fucking erratically until they still deep inside you and the tight walls of your cunt milk his cock until he’s completely spent.
It’s only now that you realize how god damn heavy this man was on top of you. Thankfully Jake rolled off before you had to start gasping too badly for air, leaving your front feeling impossibly cold.
"And? Feeling relaxed?" He chuckled, rolling over to pull the blanket over the both of you before he tugs you close against his chest.
"Shut up…", you make out roughly and it’s only then that you realize, you had screamed yourself hoarse. You want to roll your eyes at him, but they unwillingly flutter closed before you can even try to.
"Told ya‘ I’ll fuck you to sleep, kid."
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pftones3482 · 1 year
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I want to be excited for the live action Little Mermaid so badly
The Little Mermaid is my favorite Disney movie. Anyone who knows me knows I'm obsessed with mermaids as a whole and will watch any media that has them. Hell, I own my own tails and monofins. But every time I see a gif or a video for the new Little Mermaid, I cringe
(btw, this is NOT because of the casting. If you're against this movie because Ariel is black, you're a racist piece of shit and this post isn't for you)
My issue lies with the CGI. It just looks so FAKE. We've seen through the course of movies and TV shows that use it that CGI does not age well, and that's because technology is constantly improving. What was impressive in 2005 is not impressive in 2023 (Just look at Aquamarine, another movie about mermaids). And the CGI on Ariel and her sisters already looks fake and the movie isn't even out yet!
Compare this image from the trailer
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To this screenshot from H20: Just Add Water (a TV show that came out in 2006):
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You can see the details of the scales in the second image
The first image is flat. Sure, it's colorful, but it's flat. It's fake. Halle herself is the most beautiful and alive part of the image, because everything else is fake
The difference?
H20 had costume designers, ones specifically trained in mermaid tail making, HAND CRAFT every tail on the show. All of the scales were hand laid, all the tails molded to fit the actors/actresses perfectly, painted by hand
Let's even look at someone with no affiliation to TV or movies:
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This is Mermaid Linden, a very well known (in the mermaid community) professional mermaid. You can tell her tail is not as high quality as the ones made for H20 (though it's still a VERY expensive tail) - but it still looks like it's a part of her. You can still see the details. Because professional mermaid tails are also all handmade and molded to fit each person. Even if they don't lay every individual scale, good professional mermaid tail makers are very meticulous about what they do.
This is what happens when Disney refuses to pay practical effects artists. We could have had beautiful, handmade tails that would look real on screen for decades to come and could be reused for promotional purposes - instead, they're underpaying and overworking their non-unionized employees to make CGI tails that don't even look real now.
(to be clear, I'm not shitting on the artists. As I said, they're being underpaid and overworked. This is not their fault)
And before anyone comes and says "But swimming in those is difficult!" Absolutely it is. You should never swim in a professional level tail (or even just fabric tails) without practice and training. Which Disney could have given the cast if they were willing to PAY people (the cast of H20 [a TV SHOW] literally learned how to be mermaids on set. It's been done before)
Disney's "Live Action" needs to be rebranded as "CGI with some real people tossed in" because that's all any of these remakes have been, and it's exhausting when I look at what we could have had.
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jensettermandu · 2 months
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fish that drown - huh yunjin
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content; smut, slight angst, fluff (kind of), a little plot
pairing; g!p yunjin x female reader
content; implications of an unhealthy relationship, praising, blowjob, p in v :D, slightly rough (?), a slight size thing (Y/n being/having smaller proportions than yunjin??), bulging, Y/n calls her Jen, small age gap (y/n is younger by two years), probably everything
synopsis; together it feels like drowning in the best way possible because anything above the surface feels too cold for them despite it burning whenever they drown together. each time they give each other another chance as they find back to each other with nothing but love forgetting everything that made them leave to begin with.
wc; 7k+
masterlist
Each second was tantalising, it was filled with dim colours seeping through the smogged window with raindrops holding the lights of the outside in them. Each breath was a promise of another second to live and chances for more empty promises. The promise of breaking habits to make it work despite them being routines that stayed forever. It was the comfort of now rather than the worries of tomorrow, knowing it would be a cycle forever. 
Arms securely wrapped around Y/n as they lay together as if they had a forever together. As if they would grow old together and love each other through thick and thin, but they had always been walking a thin line between love and hate. 
It was the problem of falling for each other’s flowers, but never taking time to get to know the roots. It got difficult to figure out what to do when fall came and everything crumbled, the petals falling and blowing away with the wind, all that was left was a promise of coming back by spring. 
“Yunjin, I seriously have to go.” She tried because despite them being securely wrapped around her, it didn’t mean that they were home. Certain places would just never feel like a home no matter how much of a home they were. It could be their natural habitat, but they would always be prey and that made it difficult to feel at home. It was still hard to let go especially when the place appealed so much to one and they wished for it to be theirs only.
Was spring close?
“Stay, I want you to stay, Y/n–” Yunjin sighed, her fingers brushing over the younger girl’s spine as she turned over to reach to the floor for her clothes. Her palm smoothed over Y/n’s waist and like painting someone with scorching metal she slid it over to her stomach, leaving her every touch to linger forever on Y/n’s body. It was like empty canvases and when they met they became the artwork that was only visible through their eyes. “We can go out in the morning and talk.” She suggested and the feline in her arms exhaled as she got pulled back into her. 
Y/n’s body was dwelling in the fire, every part of her was enjoying it, her heart was beating heavily because the feelings Yunjin made her feel were heavy from how much she felt with the ginger. Her brain was the only rational thing at the moment, but rationality was a curse when they were together and jumping head-first into the unknown waters was more thrilling than dipping toes to test them. The best thing about it was the lily pads that looked pretty on the surface but were more beautiful from under the water when they tangled around their limbs and dragged them down further with no chance of escape. 
Spring had come and Y/n knew that she wasn’t leaving and neither was Yunjin.
“My members’ are going to strangle me if I am not back at the dorm tonight.” She mumbled, opening her phone to see that she had already received texts wondering when she would be back. It wasn’t the going out that was the problem, it was the limbs she got tangled in that were and they were either fed up or they cared too much to continue watching their friends drown. A mix of both perhaps. 
Neither of the two could help it. They just knew the second that they met that they would fall in love with each other shortly and they did. 
The colours from above the water looked so much prettier from under the surface where they drowned in each other. 
“Tell them you’re staying over then.” 
That only meant that they were set in stone that had grown moss, scraping it away to reveal their names together again.
Y/n stared at her phone while Yunjin’s hand ran over her stomach, caressing the soft and smooth skin that was warm. The redhead's lips slowly started to trail kisses along her shoulder while grabbing hold of Y/n’s waist, pulling the girl closer to her because no amount of closeness was ever enough. 
“They will kill me if I do that–” Y/n was interrupted by her phone that started to buzz as she was receiving a call. It made Yunjin glance up at the phone screen while propping herself up on her arm beside Y/n’s head. The girl declined the call with Yunjin going right back to engraving herself on her skin with delicate kisses that were like the flapping of a butterfly's wings as she kissed up to the girl’s neck. 
Y/n declined the call once again because she would have difficulty deciding if she should tell the truth or lie to Jimin. She was quite sure her members would give her an earful after watching her cry for the past two months. 
They told Y/n to forget about Yunjin and everything she did and to move on. 
Y/n did and so she ended up right back with Yunjin after forgetting why she left to begin with as she had moved on from the bad. 
They both forgot why they left and only saw the good and it was enough to get back in the waters together. 
0:22
jimin> answer
0:22
> what is it?
0:23
jimin> answer the call
0:24
> why??
0:24
jimin> because i told you to answer?
Y/n glanced away from the phone and at their reflections in the big glass windows where water was trickling down, illuminating the city lights with the sky shedding tears. It was cold outside which made it so much more difficult to leave when she was drowning in Yunjin’s warmth. Each breath was filled with the scent that filled their lungs, it was like falling, but not through the sky, there was no pressure in the fall. It was like slowly drowning. 
It was agonisingly gratifying to be with each other.
Her fingers tangled in the red hair as Yunjin wrapped her arm around Y/n’s waist, holding her against her body. The older let out a humid hum that painted Y/n’s skin with goosebumps before she pushed her face into the crook of her neck, her kisses wet and languid. 
The feline eyes left the window where she had watched the two bodies slowly get prepared for the dance that took two again, knowing that neither was leaving. She looked at her phone when it started to vibrate in her hold again.
“You can just tell the truth and we won’t have to run around hiding.” She couldn’t help but whisper and put her thoughts in Y/n’s head. 
It made Y/n sigh as she knew that it would be better to just say the truth. She’s been seeing Yunjin again after yet another break-up that was supposed to be the final goodbye. It felt impossible to say goodbyes when all they did was end up together the next time they ran into each other or thought too much of the other. The past two weeks had been spent hiding from their members, sneaking to restaurants, on dates, and to hotels after and now Yunjin had gotten Y/n into her group dorm. 
They hadn’t been home and when they did get there no one bothered checking who exactly Yunjin brought over. Y/n hadn’t thought far enough to think about how she would leave, but probably early at dawn. 
How long could they hide their spring from everyone else?
“Do you genuinely think that’s a good idea?” 
“No.” 
Y/n hummed and answered the phone call at last.
There was no way to emancipate from this because love made them willing slaves. 
“It’s late and you just left hours ago without a word. Where are you?”
Y/n knew that she never usually left without a word, but she didn’t know what lies to tell anymore. It felt unfair to both of them, but the girl was scared of receiving disappointed looks from her friends who had been there for her after she had cried herself to sleep every night. Y/n felt horrible for shedding so many tears, putting them under her gloomy cloud only to end up with the cause of it again.
“I'm not with Yunjin.” 
Somehow she felt the need to defend herself because she didn’t want to think to herself that she was with the girl again. It had been on and off for three years and at some point it had to be enough, didn’t it? It wasn’t time for it yet though. Their love had yet to die. 
“I didn’t think you would be either.”
“Why not?” 
She frowned somewhere between relieved and disappointed that Jimin didn’t think that she was with her ex-girlfriend. Perhaps the hurt of thinking that she had moved on and would see someone else just like Yunjin. She wasn’t ready to see someone else, she was even less ready to see Yunjin with someone else. The only people they were seeing were each other with the past forgotten and all the reasons why they left to begin with. That had been the point all along, to forget what the other had done which only ended with reasons to get back together. 
“You make it sound like you want me to think it.”
“I’m just curious why you are so sure.”
“Minjeong was talking with Chaewon to see if you were there, but she told her that Yunjin had someone over.”
It went silent, the girl on the other end waiting for Y/n to talk who looked down at Yunjin in the neon shades and colours that seeped through the windows. It was all she could see whenever she was with her, all the colours and the shades, they were comforting and made her feel safe. The colours that Yunjin painted her with were her comfort. 
“Oh.” Was all she was able to get out, thinking about how relieved everyone seemed that the two weren’t together. 
“I’m sorry, I maybe shouldn’t have–”
“No, no, it’s fine, I’m more than fine.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.” 
Y/n reassured her because she was fine in the end, she was with Yunjin and she didn’t need to be anywhere else. She liked these cold waters that her skin got used to, they felt warm, and they filled her lungs and burned which caused so much warmth to course through them. There was no escaping it as they were tangled in each other while sinking to the bottom of waters that were their home, that they should swim in, but the second one of them tried to swim the other got pushed down further and grasped onto harder which made them both only sink further into each other. There was no swimming away from the other and leaving them behind in the perfectly blue ocean with twinges of red. 
“Okay, that’s good to hear. When are you coming home then? You never said where you went.” 
“I will be home in the morning, I’m with Hanni.” 
“Okay then, goodnight, Y/n.”
“Goodnight.” 
She dropped her phone on the bed and huffed when Yunjin pulled away from her neck, their legs tangling, it was just them behind the curtains. “I miss you during the day,” Yunjin mumbled as she was unable to get enough of Y/n now that she felt like she somewhat had her back. Her hands held onto the girl’s waist whose fingers trailed along her collarbones as they laid on their sides while looking at each other. 
“Me too,” it had always been a problem, but no matter what they tried to do their arrogance got in the way. The other’s schedule had to sound more important than the others even if it was just about replying to texts a little too late. 
Yunjin smiled, her eyes trailing over every feature on Y/n’s face, her gaze tender enough to feel like it was caressing the younger’s face. It wasn’t enough though, she loved feeling Y/n’s skin under her fingertips, the way it reacted like water to raindrops, letting her sink in and become part of her. Her fingers ran over Y/n’s cheek before brushing hair strands behind her ear.
“What did you miss the most?” Y/n questioned and Yunjin let out a breathless chuckle. 
The redhead propped herself up on her elbow and Y/n stared up at her, laying under the gaze of eyes that held her reflection like water. The girl cupped the feline under her jaw and leaned down, her lips tenderly falling against Y/n’s, pecking them with lingering feelings that never washed away as they were the wet sand at the bottom that would always be there. 
“The way you make me feel like I’m listening to Pink Floyd, it’s like drowning in another world from how psychedelic it feels…It feels unreal with you, Y/n.”
Y/n was sure that there would be waves around her if she were to be in actual water right now from how Yunjin’s words made her heart beat faster and harder. She was the oxygen in a place where there was none such as the bottom of a deep blue ocean of feelings that could be suffocating.
“What songs?” 
“‘Hey You’ and ‘Breathe’.” 
“Of course.” 
Y/n giggled and pushed Yunjin over before straddling her, the covers falling off their bodies and resting behind them. The girl couldn’t help but run her hands over Y/n’s body and feel the skin against hers. She trailed along her waist up and down, feeling the outline of the girl's ribs, feeling each reaction, each nerve that let Y/n know how good Yunjin made her feel. 
“I also missed you just this way, when it’s just us and no one else, especially naked.” 
There truly was nothing greater as Y/n leaned down and kissed Yunjin, closing her eyes and letting the current pull her further down. It felt too good, the cold water against warm skin was soothing, and the colours that would break through the surface, the reflection of the sun during the day and the moon at night. Those things that looked so beautiful, brought sentimental memories, that was what their love felt like. 
Their heads tilted, Y/n parted her lips and let Yunjin press her tongue against hers. It was languid with notes of desire and longing because they had yet to get enough since they started to see each other again. After every time apart, they only grew stronger feelings for each other. The only witness of their love right now were the silent raindrops falling down the window. With passion they tangled with each other, the heat growing as soft sounds started to occupy the room. 
“Fuck–” Yunjin breathed out, her hand tangling itself in the feline’s hair at the back of her head, pulling her back slightly as her lungs burned from how there was no air underwater. She tried to gasp for it, but they always stole every little bit of oxygen around each other. “I missed having you right here,” her voice was almost withering from how much her chest was already heaving, looking Y/n right in the eye as their breaths brushed against their lips. Right here meant in the confines of a safe space that was more than their arms, a room where they had spent countless nights talking, crying, shouting, loving, hating, and sinking. 
The walls were engraved with their love. 
“I know–” Y/n replied, fully aware that the girl had missed her and missed engraving their names on any space left on these walls. She pecked Yunjin’s lips, the girl trying to chase after them by raising her head but she didn’t get the chance. “I missed being right here with you.” Y/n’s walls were witness to those words, knowing how many nights she’d spent crying over the emptiness she felt of not having heavy waves wash over her and drag her into the warmth of Yunjin. 
It didn’t work to be apart. 
Yunjin dropped her head back down as Y/n started to pour her kisses over her skin, it was like a shower of sin, but it was also her salvation as it healed just as much as it scarred. The girl kissed Yunjin’s neck, softly moving her lips, trailing them along her pulsating veins while wetting them with her tongue. The older one hummed at the tender kisses that Y/n left on her skin, making her close her eyes to truly dwell on the feeling.
She reached Yunjin’s collarbones, it was almost like walking carelessly into things the way Y/n sucked on her skin and left marks along her collarbones, gracing her with art made from love and passion. Her hands were soothing over Yunjin’s shoulders, the skin was like powder from how soft it felt while she kissed further down. The girl under her was heaving for breath from how good it felt to be covered with Y/n’s kisses who went down her body, glancing up to see Yunjin looking down at her expectantly with her wet lips parted in anticipation. 
Y/n’s tongue came out, licking a stripe up Yunjin’s stomach that sucked in from the feeling, eyes connected through the blur that everything became so deep under and in the emotions. There was a twinkle in Yunjin’s eyes, a pleading one as she pushed herself up with Y/n in her lap. Her hand pushed back the silky hair as she kissed her lips before kissing along her cheek and over to Y/n’s ear.
“Be good and take me into your mouth, Y/n.” It was somewhere between a request and a soft command. Fingers ran over the girl’s spine down to her ass before Yunjin gripped it, her lips sucking right where Y/n’s pulse point was, feeling the sigh that the feline let out right by her ear. 
She manoeuvred them around in the bed until she sat at the edge. With fluidity Y/n crawled down Yunjin’s lap, finding herself between her legs while looking up at the ginger who licked her lips. Her eyes were glued to Y/n, never missing a second of the girl whenever they were with each other.
A shaky breath fell from between Yunjin’s lips when Y/n wrapped her hand around her semi-hard cock. The minx bit her lower lip slowly pumping the thick member that was scalding in her hand, her tongue stuck out, looking up through her lashes for approval that she always got through Yunjin’s eyes no matter what they were doing. A deep hum escaped Yunjin at the way Y/n licked along her tip, tongue running over the slit and collecting the leaking salty pre-cum. 
“Use your mouth well, angel so I can love you good after.” Her voice was thick with need, gruffly, her hand coming into Y/n’s hair, pushing it away from her face and holding it back for her. For a split second her eyes glance at the window, eyes falling on Y/n’s silhouette on the floor, looking like a real feline with her perfect ridges as she was on the floor on her knees. Y/n’s silhouette would always stay behind, it would always swim in Yunjin’s mind, moving gracefully and making the ginger drown in her. 
Y/n pumped up one last time, more precum slowly oozed from the slit on the pinkish tip and she parted her lips. Her eyes closed at the approving hum that came from Yunjin when she started to circle with her tongue, taking in inch by inch into her mouth before suckling back up, her hand stroking the rest.
The movement was enough to make Yunjin’s breathing grow heavier, occupying the room together with the wet sounds of Y/n’s mouth messily working along her length. “Such a good and messy doll.” The praises spilled through her mouth the same way spit ran down Y/n’s chin. The younger moved her hand down, cupping the pair of balls that were hard and heavy with cum in her palm. 
The grip on her hair tightened, and faint moans started to spill from Yunjin’s mouth at the warm mouth that worked her length. She leaned back against her palm while looking down at Y/n through hooded eyes. The girl bobbed her head, stroking her cock while hollowing her cheeks, the suction making the ginger roll her eyes back and whine at how good it felt. 
“So good, baby doll.” She breathed out, and her hand slowly pushed Y/n further down her cock as the pleasure was overwhelming her senses. It made her toes curl when she hit the back of Y/n’s throat without the girl gagging, her balls getting toyed with in the gentle hand. Tongue trailing over the bulging vein, circling her tip and showering it with the most attention as it was sensitive.  
The minx of a girl pulled away to catch her breath, her hand worked along the throbbing cock, her tongue licking at the tip and down the base. The work was sloppy just the way Yunjin loved it as only Y/n could make her head get light and stomach tie knots so tight that when they snapped she went numb. 
Y/n took her cock back into her mouth, tongue flat against the thick vein that was pulsating, hot in her mouth. The minx moaned, opening her throat for Yunjin to deep-throat her cock. It was enough to elicit a whimper from the ginger who tightened her grip on Y/n even more. It made her hold the girl down, Y/n’s nose tickling her pelvis for a second. She pulled back, sucking hard, making the other get dizzy at how good it felt and she pulled away, quickly going back down. 
Y/n looked up through her lashes at Yunjin who was now letting moans spill from her mouth without any resistance, but she tried to keep them low enough to not get in trouble. The girl wasn’t stopping and the knot was starting to tear to snap at last which Y/n was able to tell by how Yunjin’s breathing got deeper, her moans turning breathy and her balls tightening in Y/n’s hand. 
“Close ‘m so close.” She gasped, her body convulsing as her eyes closed and a deep frown covered her eyebrows, pushing Y/n’s head down with her thighs trembling. Breathless sounds fell from her mouth. The tip twitched in Y/n’s mouth, hips stuttering and cum shot in thick ropes down her throat, the salty taste barely managing to linger on her tongue as she swallowed down everything right away. The suction made Yunjin groan and Y/n slowly pulled away as the grip on her hair loosened.
“So perfect and so good for me,” the ginger mumbled as Y/n used one of the discarded shirts on the floor and wiped her mouth before Yunjin pulled her up to her feet. The girl stood between her legs, their fingers hooked and she guided Y/n back into her lap. Her hand reached to Y/n’s face, cupping her cheek and using her thumb to run over her wet lips. “You’re the prettiest and best girl I’ve had in my life.” She pecked Y/n’s lips with that and the girl shook her head with a small smile. 
“Don’t say that.” It warmed her too much and then hurt twice as much when she became the prettiest and most hated girl she’s ever had in her life. 
“Why not? It’s the truth.” 
“Just don’t, you have so many other women in your life you should put first.” Y/n refused to believe again that Yunjin would ever even consider putting her first. That was why she knew better than to say those words herself to the ginger, knowing that she would never be able to put Yunjin first either. That had always been a problem and that had always been a reason to give up and try again because what if?
The longer she stared at Yunjin’s gazing like star eyes that were sparkling the harder it got to say no to being her perfect, pretty, and best girl. The easier it got to accept the fact that within a few months, she would be pretty, but far from perfect and best. 
“I only want to put you first because I have you right here.”
“Don’t be selfish when it comes to me.” 
Yunjin chuckled, but maybe she was aware that Y/n would never truly belong to her and she would never truly belong to Y/n. They belonged to the hungry sharks that swam past their sinking bodies, trashing them and disturbing the peace that they felt in drowning, but they weren’t allowed to die in peace when it came to their love. 
Words made moments more memorable at times, but actions made them bearable and so Y/n leaned in and kissed the older girl. It felt right to be more than sinking stars and be able to be hungry sharks for each other. Yunjin’s hands gripped onto the girl's ass, fingertips digging into the lissom flesh while pulling Y/n’s smaller body closer to her. 
Among a sea where they were prey, they were also predators, but only to each other. That carnal desire struck as they wanted to dig into each other’s skin and colour the ocean red with love. Their flesh was tender for each other, unlike the tough exterior that they had on for everyone else. It made it so much easier to devour and dwell in as it tasted of greedy passion that was only reserved for the other. 
Y/n moaned and gasped into Yunjin’s mouth, their tongues tangling and sucking each other in. Nails scratched along the side of Yunjin’s neck while another worked her semi-hard length back to life. It got past a stage of just love and went to a stage that mixed with desires stronger than love, more dangerous because it hurt much more after. 
They pulled away to move onto the middle of the bed again and Y/n pushed Yunjin down, getting on top of the older. She grabbed hold of her hard cock that was throbbing in her hold, the heat between her legs strong as the feline ached for release. Yunjin watched Y/n lift her hips, her eyes falling on the girl’s slick tiny cunt and her stomach flexed as the younger ran her bulbous tip through her folds. 
Y/n bit her tongue and guided the tip to her entrance as the other girl held onto her hips to provide her more support. It made her groan at the familiar tightness she slowly got engulfed in while Y/n let out a faint gasp at the painful stretch. “Oh fuck.” The feline whimpered while slowly sinking and being filled up by the thickness and length that entered her raw. 
“You can take it, you’re doing so well, doll.” Yunjin encouraged, her hands caressing the girl’s hips while her eyes went between Y/n’s face which was somewhere between pleasure and pain and the girl’s pink little pussy that her cock was too big for. Her eyes eagerly watched as she disappeared inside the girl, splitting her folds while being slowly sucked into such tightness that she had to try extra hard to not reach her peak right away. “My pretty girl.” She continued, the praises easing Y/n’s mind from the uncomfortable feeling as she, at last, eased Yunjin's cock fully inside her while heaving for air that she had held in. 
She pulled Y/n down to kiss away the shaky breath that left her lips, waiting for the girl on top to start and set the pace to not accidentally hurt her. “I love you,” she whispered against her lips, her palm caressing the side of Y/n’s neck while her other hand gripped onto the girl’s ass who slowly moved her hips back and forth. Their lips came back together in a wet kiss with desires that were difficult to hold back. “So much, love you so much.” Her words weren’t falling deaf, they were digging their way into flesh and Y/n’s heart after not hearing them for two months. 
Y/n’s forehead rested against Yunjin’s, her hair falling around them, covering everything, and nothing from the surface ever went below except them. Her panting breaths mixed with Yunjin’s breaths who moved her hand from Y/n’s neck to push back some of her hair. 
“You don’t hate me, do you?” The words couldn’t help but intrude in this moment but they were still lingering inside her, swimming in a pool of all the things Yunjin had ever said to her. The sweet things could never win against the small portion of words that left her insecure in deep waters where security was the only thing that could keep her alive. 
“I could never hate you.” Only in the moment was she capable of hate and Y/n knew it because the feline for a second hated Yunjin for lying once again, for making yet another promise she would break. 
“I love you, Jen.” She pecked her lips after, sealing them for the moment. 
Y/n pulled back with her words, the discomfort not being as prominent as her walls adjusted to the dick that was a big fit for her, being smaller than her ex-girlfriend when it came to proportion. The bulge was evidence of the situation as Y/n’s nails dug into Yunjin’s stomach for support.
She raised her hips, rolling them back down with a gasp and repeating the movements, each time coming down with a new ferocity as they were somewhere between expressing their deep love and taking out the leftover anger at the bottom of the bottle, drop by drop falling from the tip and mixing with everything else they had ever spilled. 
“Fuck, Y/n, you’re doing so good taking and riding me,” her hand ran up and cupped one of the girl's breasts, fitting it in her palm with ease and groping at it. Feeling over her body to take in the curves she knew she would be able to draw with her eyes closed. Every little detail of Y/n’s body, Yunjin knew and loved. 
The sopping sounds started to occupy the room, the girl’s moans, whines, and whimpers grew louder and mixed with Yunjin’s heavy breaths and grunts. She could feel every inch of the girl inside her, the way her cock twitched every time she clasped around her more and let out sounds. The stretch felt painful, but in a good way, knowing that Yunjin was too big for her and would always perfectly crush her smaller body until she was trembling. They both loved the feeling, Y/n loved how full she felt with Yunjin and Yunjin loved how she overfilled the smaller girl, how Y/n’s stomach bulged and how tight her pussy was and how she always tried her best to take everything. 
It was hard to prevent and so Yunjin started to meet the girl’s thrust, their skin slapping against each other echoing in the room and bouncing off the walls with all the other sounds. Her fingers played with the girl’s hard nipple, fondling her breast while getting lost in the strong current of feelings and emotions that dragged her. Her eyes stuck on Y/n’s skin which was flawless and perfect, the moonlight casting its light on her as it always complimented her the best. Her cock dragged along the clasping walls, making the younger’s thighs tense up, thrusting and hitting the spots just for Y/n.
“Feels good, I love how you touch me,” Y/n whined, her hands holding onto Yunjin’s tense thighs that flexed with each thrust. 
“You look so fucking good, Y/n–you take my dick so well, doll.” She huffed at the feeling of Y/n’s wet cunt who threw her head back while increasing her pace to a deeper one. Her clit was throbbing and her walls pulsating around the scalding dick, her ass colliding with Yunjin’s thighs each time she went down, gyrating her hips in a perfect rhythm that was making her and the older girl’s back arch. 
“I need more, Jen, please.” Y/n whimpered, their bodies moving like waves that perfectly collided with the shore, but it wasn’t enough for the girl. She needed more and Yunjin could provide more. She needed the waves to collide with sharp tone ruins that made the water splash everywhere. Yunjin always knew when to give just enough and when to give more than enough and make everything overflow. They knew how to sink and go down together. 
She gripped hold of Y/n’s hips, stopping the girl, their eyes landed on each other as they were both heaving for breath at how intense it felt. It made Y/n hold back a whimper when she moved off of Yunjin with the older one manhandling her to lay down on the bed. The sheets were cold under her warm body, the two covered in a faint sheen of sweat and her body with ease got pinned under the other. 
“How much do you want it, pretty?” Yunjin questioned as she lay down between the girl’s legs. Her cock rested heavily against Y/n’s thigh, her arms trapping Y/n in her bubble of air as they were on each side of her head. The strands of hair tickled Y/n’s prominent collarbones who could feel the heat radiate off of Yunjin and onto her body, the scent getting much stronger with how they were steaming and so close to one another. Body against body with nothing in between. 
“There’s nothing I want more–nothing more than you.” Y/n breathed out, their lips mingling and falling into a dance at last as they swallowed each other whole once more. One dance wasn’t enough, nothing would ever be enough. The ginger brushed her tongue over Y/n’s lips, slipping it past them, pushing her slick muscle against Y/n’s, wanting to taste more than the tender flesh on the outside but on the inside too. Her one hand went down between them as she guided her throbbing tip towards Y/n’s desperate entrance. 
The intensity increased tenfold when she slowly pushed in, kissing Y/n with more need to steal her breath when she gasped into her mouth. The younger wrapped her arms around Yunjin’s back, making her exhale deeply through her nose at the nails that slowly started to dig into the skin. 
Teeth dug into Yunjin’s lower lip when she in one fluid motion pushed her length fully inside Y/n who dropped her head to the pillow after. Her fingers found the girl’s swollen clit as she started to move her hips, rolling them in and out, providing deep thrusts that made the bed squeak and Y/n hold on tighter to not move with each thrust into her small hole. 
Whiny moans high in pitch left the feline’s mouth at the pleasure that started to course much stronger within her. Her walls clenched around the cock that was pistoning in and out of her, the moans hard to contain or keep down. Nails dragged down the pale skin of Yunjin’s back that flexed with each deep thrust, being a reminder of their love for after they would be done because their love was always present. 
“I’m close, Jen, you feel too good.” 
“Fuck—I’m gonna fill you up, doll, give you everything. Fill your tiny little pussy with my cum.” 
She dug her teeth into Y/n’s shoulder, eyes closing at the sounds that were filling her ear. Her hips pulled away before slamming back into the tight confines. The sounds grew loud, a bit too loud, but everything grew muffled to them. Her skin slapped against Y/n’s, the sounds were lewd and wet, erotic, her balls colliding with Y/n who was mewling under her and clawing at her back as she was trying to get more even if it was too much already. Her tip occasionally hit the girl’s cervix as she managed to fill her to the brim. 
Y/n gasped, her back arching and chest pushing into Yunjin who raised her head to watch the girl’s face that contorted into a blissful pleasure with her lips parted, head thrown back and eyes closed. She bunched up the pillow cover in her fist, speeding up her pace and making Y/n cry out at the way her insides were being drilled by Yunjin. Her moans turned into gasps for air as her orgasm was starting to wash over her with her body growing in heat. 
“Fuck, fuck, Jen–” It was blinding the girl on top who continued going at a fast speed that made her breathing heavy and throaty, a primal need to dominate the girl and to claim her right back as hers. There was something enthralling about watching the way Y/n was getting filled by her, her body moving with each thrust while desperately trying to stay in place despite not going anywhere because Yunjin held her in place. 
Y/n’s body tensed up, arching and pulling Yunjin closer to her as her walls fluttered around the cock that was splitting her in the best way possible. All control floated away as the waves hit her one after another, her thighs quivering from the intense orgasm, her nails running along Yunjin’s back to hold on and have her close to her. It made her ears ring and eyes roll, only the older one being able to see the pleasure that Y/n went through.
The ginger stopped playing with the swollen and slick clit when Y/n jerked at the touch, burying her face into the crook of the feline’s neck after. The pussy around her cock pulsated with aftershocks and sent her so close to the edge. Her palm pressed against Y/n’s stomach, covering it with just one hand, being able to feel the bulge each time she thrust inside the girl and it was enough to send her mind into a frenzy, imagining how deep inside the smaller girl she was. How Y/n was taking her. 
She pulled out and stuffed her cock as deep as possible one last time, pressing down more onto Y/n’s lower belly as she moaned into her neck before biting down on the skin. Her breaths grew into a high pitch as she came, thick ropes of cum shooting out her tip and each splashing the smaller girl’s walls white as she could feel it all. 
Her arm gave out and Y/n huffed at the weight that landed on top of her body, still panting for air while trying to not get overwhelmed by the big dick and cum overflowing her small cunt. “God, I missed you and this.” She groaned, trying to get back the feeling in her legs. “You did so well for me, doll,” she mumbled, huffing for air while planting soft kisses over Y/n’s neck. 
“I can’t breathe, Jen,” Y/n winced.
Yunjin exhaled deeply and weakly rolled over, her chest heaving as it felt like she was being dragged down into the bed, sinking deeper than she had before while she stared at her ceiling that got further away and blurrier the further she sank. It didn’t feel right for a second as her body was humid with sweat with no warmth, but it was all fixed when Y/n moved her body and hugged around her waist, her head resting on her shoulder as she curled up to Yunjin’s body. 
Suddenly it felt right as they drowned together.
She reached for the duvet that was thrown aside on the bed and draped it over their lower bodies. Her arms wrapped around Y/n’s shoulders and she pulled the smaller girl closer to her as she hugged her to provide safety even where it felt like it was dangerous. They were chained together in a box filled with anchors that would make sure that they stayed down and with each other. 
It felt right even though something would always be wrong. 
“You’re mine, right?” She questioned, craning her neck to look at Y/n who raised her head the best she could from how she was entombed in Yunjin’s arms. 
“Always,” she whispered and closed her eyes at the lingering kiss that Yunjin left on her forehead. That was reassurance of how it was fine, it was home, but something would always be off, disturbing them because something would always be wrong with the fact that they were drowning in their home. 
“Can you say that one thing?” Yunjin asked, staring into the distance that her ceiling didn’t have, but her eyes imagined. 
Y/n hummed, confused about what she meant. 
Yunjin was waiting for reassurance of how it felt right and wrong at the same time. “About the fish.” She prompted, her hand coming into Y/n’s hair as she tenderly played with it, running her fingers through it and feeling the girl in her arms because she truly was there. Y/n’s tired voice mumbled the words that would drive them both to sleep in the warmth of water filling their lungs while also burning. 
“I’m like a fish that drowns, I’m at home in water, but something is wrong even though everything else feels right. I know that I would die if I wasn’t here. I know that this is my only home, but there will always be something wrong with the fact that I drown even when I’m at home.”
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wildestdreamsblog · 1 year
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Baby Fever
Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Reader
Summary: You were more than just a secretary to him.
Warnings: Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Breeding kink, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.
A/N: hiiii! I haven’t felt as inspired as I did while writing this for a while 🥹 I hope you enjoy this!
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“I want a baby.”
You sputtered out the coffee you were drinking. Your eyes watered as you coughed. You tried to get your breathing under control as you looked at the imposing man sitting in front of you with his legs spread apart. He had not lifted his eyes from the laptop presented in front of him. He was idly looking at photos of paintings from the various exhibits you attended while he was busy with his group’s schedule. As an idol, and on top of that the leader of the biggest group today, Kim Namjoon was an extremely busy person. You were his secretary for almost four years now. You took care of his personal life, while his personal assistant took care of his work life. You were there for him whenever he was done with his work schedule. You were there to make sure that he remembered to call his family during their birthdays, special occasions, and holidays. In fact, you were the first person he was keen on seeing once he landed from whatever country they were in for work. His members, specially Taehyung and Seokjin, let you know time and time again how much you were appreciated. If you weren’t there, they thought that Namjoon would not be as put up as he was right now. You thought that Namjoon would survived without you.
You coughed twice before finally feeling like you could live. “What?” You asked him in confusion before wiping your self with the handkerchief he had somehow laid out in front of you.
Namjoon eventually looked up to you once he marked the photos of paintings he wanted to purchase. He leaned in, resting his elbow on his muscular thigh before plopping his chin on his hand. “I said, I want a baby.”
You squinted your eyes confusingly, “As in…baby as in baby? Or baby as in I don’t know? Not an actual baby?” You knew even as you asked what he meant. Namjoon was the most intelligent man you knew, and he did not make mistakes when conversing. In fact, he was such a great conversationalist that the media loved to invite him on their shows.
So…what brought this on?
“A child of my own, Y/N.”
That was not the first time he mentioned that. If you could remember clearly, he answered in some interviews that he really wanted to become a father. He even bought that cute little shoes when he was abroad just because. In your mind, you knew he would be the best father if how he took care of his members was any indicator. It broke your heart, though, to see him still alone after all this time.
“I mean…are you seeing someone that I’m not aware of?”
He blinked at you, absorbing what you were asking. How could he had another woman when he spent almost all his free time with you? “No.”
“T-then how?” You asked in puzzlement. You could see from his expression that he was serious about this. He rarely said anything without thinking it thoroughly in the complex and brilliant mind of his. This meant that he really did want to have a child of his own now.
You were finding it difficult to process this. Couldn’t he just want another painting?
Namjoon merely shrugged his broad shoulders and went back to looking over the paintings.
You thought that was the end of it. But no. The second time he mentioned this was at Jin’s house.
You two were about to call it a day after running errands for him. To be honest, you were quite excited for tonight. You were set to meet with your college friends, including someone you always looked up to back in your college years because of his superior intellect. He was also always so kind to you, even walked you home to your dorm every night. But you were too immense in your studies back then that you had no time for relationship. But maybe, now?
You made sure to take more time to dress yourself up this morning. You even chose to swap your usual lipstick to a different shade that made you feel more alluring and beautiful. Your fingers touched the beautiful necklace Namjoon gave you on your birthday last year. You thought that the accessory was perfect with the dress you were wearing.
This would be an easy day for you, you thought to yourself seeing that RM’s schedule was just until the afternoon. You smiled at your reflection in the mirror, satisfied with your appearance before leaving the house. When you showed up at the company to pick him up, the staff politely informed you that the leader was still in the studio with Yoongi and that he told them to ask you to go directly there. You were walking to the floor where the studio was when you passed the three maknaes: Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook.
“Oh, noona!” Jungkook called you, his voice in pleasant surprised as he looked at your face. His doe eyes took in your clothes with wonder before meeting your eyes again. “Noona! You look so pretty!”
Taehyung smiled at you and nodded his head. “Our noona looks so fashionable,” he commented as he checked out your get up today. You beamed at his compliment, happy that the fashionable Taehyung approved of you.
Jimin sauntered up to you, teasingly wrapping his arm around your shoulders before smirking at you. “Our noona has a date,” he speculated on a sing-song voice that made the other two chuckled.
“So where is hyung taking you?” Jungkook pondered, excitement apparent in his eyes.
“Don’t tell me he’s taking you to another exhibit? Aish, he’s so unromantic,” Taehyung lamented, shaking his head at the thought of his hyung and the disastrous date that was about to happen.
“Hyung is not unromantic! As if you know anything about romance,” Jungkook pouted, fully on defending mode for his Namjoon hyung. His lips were in an adorable pout as he chastised Taehyung.
“I know how to be romantic!”
“As if! Until when are you going to keep giving tickets to her until she shows up in our concerts, Taehyung?”
“She will! I can still see her commenting in the weverse!”
“So? Her bias is J-hope, not you!”
You chuckled at the three’s cuteness. Taehyung was now the one pouting while Jungkook looked like he was enjoying tormenting his hyung. You watched them for a moment before finally correcting them. “He’s my boss. We’re not going on a date.”
The three maknaes looked at you with confusion in their eyes. “B-but, why are you so beautiful today?”
You squinted your eyes at Jimin, “So I’m not beautiful everyday?”
“N-No! That’s not what we meant-“Jungkook denied quickly, his eyes widening even further. He was afraid of offending his noona because then, his hyung would looked at him with disappointment in his eyes.
You chuckled lightly, deciding on ending their distress by telling them that you were going to meet with your college friends tonight, in which they were silent. They looked at each other for a moment, as though speaking in telepathy before the oldest maknae spoke up.
“So noona, is that an all-girls event, or no?”
“There’s going to be boys. Why do you ask?”
He smiled at you cheekily, but this time the smile did not reach his eyes. “Nothing.”
The three maknaes watched you walked away from them, your eyes focused on the tablet in front of you. They sighed in disappointment and worry.
“Namjoon hyung is going to lose his mind,” Taehyung finally broke the silence.
“I don’t want to be here when he finds out noona is going to meet boys from her college,” Jungkook fretted, holding both Tae’s and Jimin’s arms.
“RM is going to be unbearable after this, isn’t he?” Jimin stated with a smile that looked more like a wince. The few times you went out on a date, Namjoon was insufferable. He was quiet, too quiet that the maknaes were scared to make a mistake or speak too loudly. “Shall we move to the mountains for a while?”
Yoongi opened the door, smiling politely at you before letting you in the studio. RM’s back faced you as he hunched over the workspace. He was deciding on what beat sounded best when you arrived.
“You’re here, Y/N? I’m almost done-“ he trailed off once he turned his chair to look at you. His eyes widened before he managed to erase the awestruck expression in his face. But Yoongi saw. He smirked before sitting down on his workstation, looking up at the pair in front of him. The other one was an idiot despite being the most intelligent man in almost any room, and the other was a naive one. He hid his smile on the cup of coffee he was slowly sipping.
“No worries, Namjoon. Take your time,” you smiled at him before sitting on the sofa. He was still not able to take his eyes off of you. And you, the ever naive one, only flashed him your professional smile.
And Yoongi was enjoying it all.
“You looked different today, Y/N,” Yoongi commented tonelessly, egging the leader beside him. “Right, Namjoon?”
You blushed as you could feel your boss’ heavy eyes on you. You flashed Yoongi a shy smile before turning to look at Namjoon. It was a moment, a heartbeat too long before he replied with seriousness in his voice, “She always looks beautiful, Yoongi.”
He wanted to add that you looked like a masterpiece, one that had different meanings whenever he looked at it during different times in his life. You were timeless, his heart wanted to add. However, his brain was deaf in his heart’s true desires.
You blinked at his sudden praise on you. “T-thank you, Namjoon.”
“Is there an occasion?” Yoongi asked innocently after reading the message sent by the maknaes about you and your supposedly college reunion. He almost chuckled when he read that the three were planning on staying as far from the company as possible. But not him. This was fun to him. In his opinion, the two of you should have been in a relationship for a long time now. He thought Namjoon needed the push, or a shove if Suga was being honest. And he was willing to be the one to do that. He was a kind friend like that.
“Oh, I have a reunion with my college friends tonight,” you shared as you fixed the papers that Namjoon needed to look at. You wanted to be efficient today so Namjoon could use the rest of the day to finally relax. You thought his eyes looked a little tired lately.
“You didn’t tell me that,” Namjoon noted lightly, fixing you with his hard stare. “What time are you going to meet them? Where are you going to meet? Will you be out late?”
Yoongi was smiling as he watched RM threw question after question at you. Yet, he failed to ask one thing that should be asked.
“Are there gonna be boys, Y/N?” Yoongi asked innocently, blinking owlishly at you before leaning back and watching it all unfold.
Your affirmative answer made RM’s mood turned sour.
You were on edged as you drove the car expertly from the last location of the schedule today. Even at his age, people around Namjoon still adamantly refused to let him drive. The members thought that he would be a danger to people around him, and to himself as well. Namjoon was uncharacteristically silent as you drove. He was either staring at you or outside. Ever since you picked him up from the company, you could feel that something was off. You just could not pinpoint at it. On the other hand, Namjoon was contemplating…or more appropriately scheming as to how he could keep you with him today.
“Let’s go to Jin’s,” he finally broke the silence, flashing you his normal, dimpled smile.
“What?” This was not in the schedule today. You purposely scheduled light meetings today so that he could go home and you would have more than an ample time to drive to the reunion.
“It’s still early. I promise we’re only going to be an hour.”
Lie.
“Ahhhh actual people!” Jin greeted when he opened the door and saw you and Namjoon. He was carrying the box of baby books he insisted would be helpful to the brain development of Jin’s son.
“Hyung, your son is an actual person,” Namjoon said in a light tone as he took in Jin’s state. Despite the bags under his eyes, he was still so handsome that fans would still call him the worldwide handsome. He looked tired, but his eyes held so much happiness that RM could not helped but be happy for his hyung. At the same time, he wanted, no, he craved the domesticity that Jin was now experiencing.
The men were talking and laughing about work as Jin’s wife lead you to her son. You cooed at the child and thought that he would break a lot of hearts in the future. He was a carbon copy of Jin. He was laughing at you when you made funny faces at him, the melodious laughter reached the men’s ears.
“He likes you,” Jin commented, fondly watching his handsome son babbled and laughed. “Do you want to hold him?” His lovely wife asked.
“Really? Can I?” You asked in wonder. She smiled at you before gently laying the happy child safely in your arms.
Your heart melted as you held Jin’s little bundle of joy. The little weight you were holding was someone else’s whole world. He was barely six months old and yet he had so much personality like his father.
“You’re so beautiful, little one,” you whispered to the baby looking up at you as if he understood every word you said.
Namjoon could not even begin to decipher what it was he was feeling when he saw you holding the little Jin in your arms. He just felt this warm feeling in his heart, as if the image of you holding a baby in your arms was from a dream come true. The image was forever imprinted in his mind, he was sure. Something about you felt right. Something about you felt like the missing piece in his life. You had always been there for him. He was not ignorant to think that he could survive without you in his hectic life.
He thought that you were meant to stay in his life.
You were so focused that you almost missed the heat from Namjoon’s body when he leaned in and looked at the baby from your shoulder. You could feel his breath this close that it made you heart beat louder. Was it from shocked? Was it from shyness? Or was it from something else that you had spent years denying?
“So precious,” Namjoon whispered softly. You jumped from the deepness of his voice. You shivered from the body contact you were not used to. You cleared your throat before turning to him.
“Do you wanna hold him?”
And once he had the tiny human in his muscular arms, Namjoon smiled tenderly at Jin’s son. He brushed the sparse of hair he had on his head gently.
For the second time, he said, “I want a baby of my own.”
You were surprised that he once again brought it up. This time it was not only to you but to his hyung. Jin blinked as if he was startled by RM’s admission. He looked at you before looking at his friend.
“I’m sure you’ll be a great father, Namjoon,” Jin said in all seriousness. He knew he would. He was sure of it.
“When will you start making a baby of your own, Namjoon?” His wife asked him teasingly, leaning against Jin as they looked at the man observingly.
RM glanced at you, “Soon.”
You were already an hour too late to be considered fashionably late that RM insisted that he’d have his driver dropped you off to your reunion. You wanted to say no, yet you knew it would be impossible to resist Namjoon whenever he was in that mood. He always knew how to get his way, you thought. His intelligent mind knew just what to do, just what to say in order to get what he wanted.
And that night, he did.
Your college friends looked at you happily when you stepped out of the car. They walked closer to you, welcoming you to the party. And there you saw him, the man you hadn’t been able to forget. He was still as handsome as ever. You couldn’t help but smile when he was approaching when you felt a presence behind you.
“Hi. I just dropped off Y/N. I’m sorry she’s late,” RM greeted the group charmingly before nonchalantly placing his large hand on your waist. You jumped from the contact. He never did that. What would your friends think? Your head was in overdrive that you didn’t notice your friends fawning over the Kim Namjoon. He was treating them kindly, allowing them to take pictures with him before he turned to you.
“Enjoy your night, Y/N,” he murmured before placing a kiss on your cheek.
Well, there went your chance with your college crush.
You didn’t know what to make of his actions that when you went to his house the following week for information pertaining to the property he was looking at, you were on edged. You didn’t have to knock because he told you before to just enter his penthouse. You were given access to his home. You took a deep breath before walking inside his house, not knowing what to anticipate with him, with his touch…and that kiss that should not have happened.
“Oh, Y/N! You’re here! Come sit!” Namjoon’s mom called from his dining table, smiling pleasantly at you that you froze. You didn’t expect her here but at least there was a buffer between the two of you now, right?
“It’s been so long! You’re so thin! Is my son too hard on you?” She asked as she pulled you to sit beside her, in front of RM who only looked intently at you. You couldn’t read his expression. He was wearing a simple black shirt that fit a little too snugly on his chest. You hated how you were noticing yet again his physical qualities like you did when you were merely starting. His mom was still reprimanding his son as she put plate in front of you despite you offering to help. She merely shrugged you off, happy that you were there to take care of her son. Who knew what would happen to him if you weren’t here, she thought. RM was silently eating, enjoying the way his mom was mothering you when she turned her attention to him once again.
“When will you give me a grandchild? With the way you are working, you have no time for family! All my friends and neighbors have at least one grandchild. Son, just give me one, okay? Just one,” She pleaded as she placed more food on his plate.
“Okay, omma,” Namjoon consented. He was serious, yet his mother groaned as if he was just placating her.
“You,” she turned to you, placing more food on your plate as well. “Don’t be like my son. Go make your own babies! I’ll just borrow your child every once in a while, okay?” She told you humorously as she laughed and told you that you needed to eat more.
Unbeknownst to the two of you, the man’s face darkened with the mere thought of you carrying someone else’s child. He hated the thought of you not being his. He had the whole weekend to think intensely, and all the answers pointed to you.
You didn’t have time to discuss with him what had transpired. The following weeks, he was busy with work, yet this time he had always quietly ordered that you’d be with him. Before, you only had to meet with him thrice a week. But now, you were with him almost everyday. You were working in his office when Hoseok and Yoongi entered the room.
“Oh! Y/N, you’re here!” Hoseok exclaimed before walking to you with the brightest smile you had ever seen. Yoongi only smiled at you in acknowledgement before approaching RM and showing him his laptop. They were deep in conversation when Hoseok asked you if you knew where the list for the event was. You nodded before standing up. It was in the overhead cabinet. You reached for it in difficulty for a moment when you felt a hand on your waist, and RM’s muscular arm stretched beside you as he grabbed with such ease what you were trying to reach. He was as near as that night. “Here you go, Y/N,” he whispered…and heavens did it feel sensual in your ear. His hot breath tickled your neck. You could feel your cheeks heat up from his proximity.
You were starting to notice that RM was becoming…touchy lately. It didn’t feel disrespectful to you, it just felt like something changed with the way he was acting, with the way he was looking at you, with the way he was demanding your attention.
J-hope looked at Suga in astonishment. Were these two finally a thing?
One night, you were walking to your humble apartment with Namjoon beside you. His hands were in his pockets as he walked you to your door despite you telling him that you were fine. But you should know, he was a stubborn one. It was late, and the only light were from the hallway of your apartment. It was almost midnight when the two of you arrived at your apartment after checking out the house Namjoon wanted to buy. He asked you what you thought of it, and you said it was beautiful. The yard was spacious with swimming pool. The house itself had numerous bedrooms that you didn’t know who would stay there. In your mind, you rationalized that it must be his members if ever they wanted to stay. In Namjoon’s mind, it was for his family. He listened intently to what you had to say, and only when he saw how your face lightened up when you saw the whole house did he decide to buy it.
“Here I am, boss Namjoon,” you announced jokingly before straining to look up at your tall employer.
You blinked when he only stared at you, “Namjoon?”
“Good night, my princess,” he murmured with his deep voice.
Did he just…call you his princess?
You were too shocked to notice him leaning down. And once he did, you felt his lips kissed your forehead softly, his large hand on the back of your head. You were frozen when he stepped back.
And then he left.
Namjoon thought you needed time to process everything. He knew you were an over-thinker, that you were a flight risk. He just didn’t know you would be like this with mere kisses on your cheek and forehead. You hadn’t been picking up your phone since that day, and he had half a mind to go to your apartment. But he had to keep in mind that there were less conspicuous method to use.
You read the message from Namjoon this afternoon. Apparently, he forgot to pick up the gift he had for his father’s birthday and he was now in his hometown. He was half-pleading and half-apologizing for his clumsiness that you felt bad to just leave him on read. And so you replied that you’d bring it to him.
Your mind was blank as you drove for hours to him. Ever since that night, the feelings you had tried so hard to bury and successfully did, were resurfacing. It was unfair, you thought. You didn’t have the emotional capacity to fall for him. You knew how this would end. When you started to work for him, you thought he was everything. You looked up to him because he was so kind, so intelligent, and so masculine. He was gentle with you even when you made a mistake. He helped you find an apartment that was safe after he saw how you were living before. He paid for the deposit and for the rent during the first year despite your adamant refusal. He even paid for your grandmother’s hospital bills, the only family you had. She had lived longer than what the doctor said. She died without experiencing difficulty eventually, all thanks to RM’s connections to the best hospitals. You wanted to pay him. You even refused to accept your salary, with no success. Namjoon just merely shrugged and said he wouldn’t let anything happen to you as long as he was around. And you believed him.
And so, you did your best to take care of him day and night. Even going beyond your job description. You became his secretary, but what was more, you became his friend, an ear to vent on, even a shoulder to lay his head to rest.
One night, RM had too much to drink. He was feeling suffocated from the pressure of the world. You found him staring on an empty bottle of whiskey when you arrived in his penthouse. That night, you sat with him, listened to his worries, rubbed his back with comforting hands. You assured him that he was not the version he thought of himself. He was better. He was the best man you ever knew. You told him how much you appreciated him, and that he was doing his best.
That night, he asked you what he would do without you.
That night, you told him he’d never have to find out.
That night, he kissed you.
And come morning, he forgot about it.
But you didn’t. And that was the first time he hurt you.
Your memory trail stopped when you saw him standing in front of their house, waiting for you.
His father, just like his mother, was able to convince you to stay the night. He said you were family, and that it would be his birthday wish to spend it with the woman who managed to keep his son alive. He even joked that without you, RM would probably forget to pay his bills, to keep his fish alive, or even to eat. You laughed and said RM was becoming more mature lately and that he could survive without you. RM disagreed.
“You know what, you could do so much than be with my brother,” RM’s younger sister said teasingly as all of you were eating dinner. She stuck her tongue out to her brother who just rolled his eyes at her.
“Oh,” you chuckled shyly before looking at the tall man sitting beside you. “We’re not together!”
“Why not? I was just kidding. I think you’re perfect for him,” she admitted before smiling at the two of you. She was just voicing out what her family had been thinking for years. By now, you were a permanent fixture in their lives that if and not when the day comes that RM introduced someone else to them, they would find it hard to accept her.
You chuckled before telling her that your relationship with her brother was strictly professional.
“He’s working you too hard, isn’t he?” His father asked you as he shook his head at his innocent son. “Listen to me, life is too short to work all day. Go out and have a beautiful life! Or else you’ll find yourself old and alone one day without a family of your own.”
Once the intimate party died down, you found yourself talking with RM in the living room with alcohol in front of you. The two of you were seated on the floor side by side with the sofa behind you. His parents had called it a night after drinking with them, while his sister tapped out as well. Alcohol and the existence of other people helped to die down the awkwardness you felt. You were laughing at RM’s anecdote about the thing that happened during their dance practice. He watched you with contentment in his face. Seeing you happy was making him feel like he did something right, like he won one of those awards. He didn’t know when it started, but he just knew the desire to make you laugh would never go away. He was sure of it.
“I’m sorry about my family. They’re just used to teasing me.”
You waved him off before pouring his empty glass, before pouring yours. “It’s nothing, really. I had fun. I’m glad I came.”
“I’m glad you’re here, too,” he admitted, his look at you was as intense as that night that your heart started to beat harder, as if it wanted to escape the cage it was in. You blinked and decided to look away. You fanned yourself, “It’s quite warm in here, right?”
Namjoon smirked before drinking, his eyes never wavering from your face. “You’re beautiful, princess,” he commented, his voice deep as he waited for you to look at him again. He was near, so near that his thighs were touching yours. So near that whenever he moved, his muscular arm brushed against yours.
“God, you’re so drunk,” you muttered before looking up at him.
“I may be. But come morning and ask me again, and I’d still tell you you’re the most beautiful thing that ever happened to me.”
You gulped, his voice deepened even further. “You’re the most important person in my life,” he admitted with intensity in his voice, with promise in his eyes. “I know I love you.”
Your eyes widened before attempting to move away from him when you felt his massive hand on your back, preventing you from moving away from him, effectively stopping you from running away from the truth that he never tried to fight.
“You don’t mean that,” you whispered, your hand now on his chest as you tried to stop him from coming any closer. He shouldn’t. He couldn’t. Because if he did, he’d feel how hard your heart was beating just for him. Or how terrified you were of falling, only to have him forget about it again. To forget you again.
“I do. I mean it,” he whispered leaning in slowly at you. “I love you.” And then he kissed you. And you were all too powerless to stop him. He pulled away after a moment. You were breathing hard, your eyes trained on his lips before meeting his eyes. And then this time, you kissed him.
You didn’t know how, but the two of you found yourselves in his bedroom. His hand was entangled with your hair, your hands caressing his broad back as he walked you to his bed. You were drunk from the alcohol and his kisses, his heavenly kisses. He pushed you gently to the bed, and not a second was wasted before he joined you. You pulled off his shirt, your eyes in awe at his form. His muscles were definitely more defined now than when you last saw it accidentally back when you were just beginning to work for him. His chest looked definitely stronger. You were aware of this from seeing him wearing tight shirts, but this? This was something else.
You moaned lightly as Namjoon trailed kisses on your neck, peppering it with subtle marks of his own. He thought that you were his, and that your neck should be adorned with his marks. “Keep it down, princess,” he teased you as he got impatient with the endless buttons of your blouse that he resorted to ripping it off of you. He couldn’t be gentle. Not when the woman of his dreams was finally on his bed. “Or do you want me to cover your mouth?”
You didn’t know that he had it in him to be a dirty talker. You were feeling the heat when he smirked at you before you felt his lips on your chest, down to your stomach, and finally to your core. You closed your legs, shyness finally coming back to you as you sobered from his sinful kisses. He was kneeling, his legs were on either side of you as he leaned closer to you once again. “Be a good girl and open your legs, princess,” he ordered, his hand caressing your soft thigh.
His commanding voice was like a hypnotic spell that you found yourself opening your legs slowly for him. And as a reward, he made your legs shook. You were still catching your breath that you didn’t notice he placed a pillow under you, lifting your core. He kissed you once again on your lips so tenderly, so lovingly that for a moment you believed he loved you.
“You are made for me, princess,” he whispered before looking at you with darkness in his eyes, “You’re made for daddy. Say it.”
You keened when you felt his hardness slide at your core teasingly, punishingly as you waited a little too long to repeat what he wanted you to.
“Say it, princess. Don’t make daddy mad,” his hot breaths were tickling your ear as he pinched your sore nipple that you yelped.
“I-I’m made- ugh- I’m made for daddy,” you finally said as you felt his thick head slowly entered your drenched core.
“And who’s your daddy?”
“You are.”
That night, he told you repeatedly how you were his and his only. He made you promised that you would never leave him, and that you would never ignore him once again. He made you come so much that you lost track of the time. His large hand was on your mouth, preventing you from waking the whole house up as he rutted against you with so much stamina and passion. He made you so mindless that you didn’t realize he was finishing inside you each time. He made sure to not let a single drop leave your core.
The third time he didn’t have to mention about wanting a baby of his own, he just did.
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holllandtrash · 1 year
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last call | max verstappen
pairing: max verstappen x reader
a one shot based on the song last call by jamie miller, i highly suggest listening to it 'Cause when it's last call I wanna be your first call I wanna be your ride home You're gonna be my downfall
word count: 7.4k tags/warnings: soft and sweet, alcohol consumption
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Max Verstappen was a lot of things.
He was a world champion, for starters. A two-time world champion, a title he carried proudly. He was on his way to claim that title for the third time, but he didn’t let the arrogance or the ease of it get to his head, there was still work to do this season.
He was a son and a brother. He cared about his family more than the media would ever know, always painting him as some sort of villain on and off the track to which it got to the point that Max simply stopped trying to change people’s opinions. His family knew who he was, he didn’t need to make any adjustments for them.
He was a friend, and a damn good one if he said so himself. To be fair, it was difficult to see the mates he grew up with when his job took him around the world and back, but he never forgot his roots. He cherished any time he got to spend with those in his close circle. He had a rule too, no phones. If he was with his friends, nothing on his phone mattered. That was also why he was deemed ‘antisocial’ during any breaks, however long. God forbid he not take any photos of him having a good time to prove he knows how to have a good time.
Last but most certainly not least, on Friday and Saturday nights in Monaco, he was a chauffeur. 
Your chauffeur.
Neither of you were quite sure when this whole arrangement started, but did that really even matter?
Max pulled up alongside the curb of the club and sent you a text. A minute later you came walking out the doors, a grin plastered on your face as you said your goodbyes to your friends. 
As you walked around the front of the car, Max tried to not let his gaze linger on the way your skirt showcased the length of your legs and how in a matter of a seconds you’d be sitting next to him and he’d be thanking his lucky stars he drove a manual so he had a reason to keep his hand off of you.
You climbed into the passenger side of his car, the seat was already adjusted to your height. There was an unopened bottle of water in the cup holder. An artist you listened to was already quietly playing through the speakers. Even if Max didn’t get a heads up that you were going out tonight, he knew what to do when you called him.
He knew that if the seat was pushed back you would complain, jokingly. He knew that you’d ask if he had water somewhere in his car and he knew that you’d ask for help to connect your phone to Bluetooth, if it hadn’t already died. 
And while Max liked that routine, he also liked seeing your face light up when you realised you no longer needed to ask for anything. 
“Hi,” you turned in your chair to face him. You were smiling, but you had been smiling all night. Did you mean any of them in the last few hours? The answer was unknown, but you certainly meant it now. You took one look at Max and you couldn’t help but smile, it was your body’s natural reaction, just like how you turned to face him as soon as you sat down. 
“Fun night?” He asked. He always asked that, but you both knew he didn’t care about what you got up to inside the walls of the nightclub. If he cared, he would have joined you the number of times you politely asked him to when you saw him in passing when you left the flat. But Max just wasn’t a nightclub kind of person. 
“Yeah,” you sighed, running your fingers through your hair. “Yeah, Rina’s a bit of a handful, but it was fun.”
“You stayed out late,” Max pointed out, but not in a type of way you would expect a parent to discipline their kid. It was simply Max calling attention to the time, the same time as always. 
This was a habit you had fallen into, unintentionally. 
Wherever you were, whatever establishment, when their bartenders yelled for last call, you pulled out your phone and called Max. The call for the last round of drinks was your reminder that you needed to go home and luckily, there was someone who would pick you up, every time, without fail. 
It was convenient that you two lived in the same building. It may have been in passing that Max offered for you to ever call him if you needed something, but neither of you expected it to spiral into this. 
He was just being friendly. It was the neighbourly thing to do. 
Which is why you were hesitant the first time you called Max when you needed a ride home. But all of your friends had left you, you lost your credit card somewhere on the dance floor and in your state of mind, you were in no position to try and walk the streets of Monte Carlo alone. 
So you called him, apologising about a dozen times but through the line you heard him get up from bed with a quiet sigh. You heard the jingle of keys and it wasn’t long before you finally heard Max’s car roar to life and he told you he’d be there in ten minutes.
That pattern of sounds became music to your ears before you knew it. The faint grunt as he stood up, the keys twirling around his finger, his car turning on. 
Breath, keys, car. It was clockwork. It was something you pretty much expected at this point when you called him. 
And Max, well Max knew it was pointless to even lay down, but he did on the off chance you didn’t go out. You always went out. 
Max had a good heart. He wanted his friends to be safe and somehow, you had wormed your way into that layer of his life. You were one of his friends. And he would rather you call him every Friday night than have to wake up in the morning and not know if you got home at all.
It was convenient that he was home for the break. He was in Monaco. He could be there for you when you needed him, and he would be.
But that pegged the question, what did you do when he was away? When he was racing? When he was across the globe fighting for championship points, who did you call to pick you up at the end of the night?
Max never asked. In fact, the topic of his job never came up with you. You knew he was a Formula 1 driver, he mentioned it subtly, well he thought it was subtle, it really wasn't. And when you said “Oh yeah, my dad watches that. He likes Josef Newgarden,” Max bit his tongue so as to not tell you that your dad was referring to an IndyCar driver, a completely different series.
You knew very little about the sport. Even with Monaco being the pinnacle track of Formula 1, you never bothered to learn about it or keep up with it. Maybe that’s why Max found it so easy to talk to you in the first place. You never once saw him as a driver. You just saw him as your neighbour and on some nights, your chauffeur. 
So one could imagine his surprise when you brought up his career during that drive home.
“When do you go back?” You asked, slight hesitancy in your tone as this was not a topic you knew well, your vocabulary was limited. “To racing?”
“Two weeks,” Max answered. “It’ll be my home race.”
He pulled up to a red light and glanced at you, instantly recognising that the term home race was not one you were familiar with, but you nodded as though you did. 
“It’s in the Netherlands,” he further clarified. Your mouth formed an ‘o’ shape as you were reminded that he was Dutch. 
“That’ll be fun,” you added. 
Why was this awkward? Neither of you were usually ones for small talk. Usually you would get in the car and talk about the characters you saw that you knew he’d get a laugh at. You would be chatting his ear off, that was part of the routine. 
And tonight, you were struggling to fill the silence. Max couldn’t tell why. 
You knew why, however. 
It was because when you were out tonight, your friend Rina was whisked away by someone who asked to dance with her. She blushed, her cheeks and neck turning bright red before saying yes and taking his hand to lead her towards the dance floor.
You watched with amusement, happy for your friend, but there was that sinking feeling of jealousy settling in the pit of your stomach. Granted, the man she was dancing with was not your type. He was tall, too tall, with dark features, an arm of tattoos. Sure he seemed charming and he certainly knew how to dance, but you weren’t jealous he had chosen Rina instead of you.
You were jealous that your friend had someone to dance with. 
And you had been asked a few times by strangers to join them under the lights, but you turned down all of them. They weren’t people you wanted to spend your time with. They didn’t give you butterflies when you thought about the potential of starting something new with a stranger from the club.
No, you got those butterflies when you climbed into the passenger seat of Max’s car. They were faint, they came as fast as they went. They could have been mistaken for nausea if you weren’t certain you only had two drinks tonight.
But they were there.
Which led to your next thought, if Max ever asked you to dance, you’d say yes in a heartbeat. 
And you had been attracted to Max since the first day you saw him, basically, but you kept those feelings to yourself, even as they grew from a physical attraction to more.
Recently, however, they had been getting harder and harder to ignore.
So maybe that’s why you were struggling to move past this silence right now. You were suddenly looking at Max in a very different light. He was your friend, yes, but he had proven time and time again that he would show up for you, that he wouldn’t hesitate to pick you up no matter that hour. None of your other friends made that commitment to you. 
But you would never act on any of it. The thoughts, the feelings. Max had never once hinted that he was interested, he was just nice. He was wholesome, despite what you had heard in the media. He was just looking out for you.
So when he walked you to the door of your flat that evening, you said goodnight like you usually did and you headed inside.
You had no idea that Max lingered in the hallway for a minute, debating with himself whether or not he should knock on your door. He’d done it before, making up some excuse to talk to you for just another few minutes. 
Because the truth was, Max enjoyed the time he spent with you, even if it was limited to those car rides from the club to your apartment complex. He liked not knowing which version of you would climb into the passenger seat. While you were almost always talkative, there were times when all you wanted was a coffee at an ungodly hour. There were times when you were complaining about the people you met. There were times when you couldn’t stop laughing to the point that Max had to pull over because your laughter was angelic and contagious and he wasn’t about to risk getting into an accident because the two of you couldn’t contain yourselves.
Max liked the fact that you always called him at the end of the night. 
For some weird reason, he liked that you were thinking of him. It made him so unbelievably happy to know that when the bartender yelled for ‘last call’ at the end of the night, he was your first call. 
But those phone calls were only ever restricted to Friday and Saturday nights. And only when he was in Monaco. While you didn’t understand Formula 1, you must have followed it a bit to know when he wasn’t home. You never called him during a race weekend. 
Except that one night last year when he was in Austin. It was just after 2am in Monaco, but Max was sitting down and having dinner in his hotel room. For you, it was early Sunday morning. For him it was still Saturday.
And it was because you didn’t recognise the pattern, you didn’t hear the breath, the keys, the car, you instantly knew that this was a weekend where he was away. He was working, racing, whatever he wanted to call it.
“Oh fuck,” you blurted out before Max could say anything. Your exclamation was met with a hefty laugh. He wasn’t annoyed in any means that you had called him while he was away, just a bit surprised is all. 
“I can order you an uber,” He instantly offered. You heard the sound of him shifting on the bed and his voice then echoed as it bounced off the walls of his hotel room, like he turned on the speakerphone, like he was already looking for the app to order you an uber from halfway across the world. 
“I can do that myself,” you argued. 
The line was silent for a moment. You were both thinking the same thing. Why didn’t you just always call an uber? Why did you always rely on Max to drive you home? 
Neither of you voiced that question. You had your own answers, but if they didn’t match up then that would lead to an entirely different conversation, one that you could do without, one that had the risk of ruining whatever sort of pattern you had fallen into.
“You okay? Did you have a fun night?” Max moved on, not wanting to think about how you were probably ordering that car for yourself. If he was in Monaco right now, he’d already be in the elevator down to the parking garage. 
“Yeah, it was good,” your words slurred together. Not enough to alarm Max, but he knew you. He knew that the more you drank, the more honest you were. 
You proved that point about two seconds later.
“Honestly, Jordan’s just fucking annoying,” you sighed. Max could picture you running your hands through your hair, you did that often, but especially when something was eating at you and right now, it was your friend Rina’s boyfriend. Boyfriend? Boy toy? Ex? Max tried to keep up, but there was a new label every week. It’d be easier to stay up to date with your life and the ‘drama’ that circled it if you saw him more than once or twice a weekend, but he wasn’t about to put that thought in your head and potentially scare you off. What you had was fine. The late night calls, the last calls turned first calls was fine.
“What happened now?” Max asked. 
“Well we literally told him not to come out, Rina’s still pissed after what he did last week- oh shit, hang on.”
While you searched for what Max could only assume was a credit card or your lip gloss or something that should have fallen out of your pockets by now, he thought back to what Jordan did last week. 
You sighed heavily into the receiver, “...what was I saying?”
“Rina’s still mad,” Max reminded you. “She hasn’t forgiven him for getting drunk at her parents anniversary dinner?”
You laughed, “God you have a better memory than me. I had to ask Rina why we were giving him the cold shoulder tonight.”
Point for Max. 
Why did this little victory mean so much to him?
“Anyway, he tried to make it up to her tonight by buying all of her drinks but then his card declined like an hour in, who lives in fucking Monte Carlo and can’t afford drinks? He���s a fake, is what he is and Rina deserves so much better. I have a theory he’s-”
“That he's from Nice,” Max finished with his own chuckle. “Want me to hire a P.I. to look into it?”
There was a pause and then a very serious, “Can you actually do that?”
“I could but I was joking,” Max said. He could picture your pouty bottom lip. It was a good thing you weren’t actually with him. He probably would have given in and found a private investigator within an hour. 
“Oh I think my uber- yeah that’s it,” you said, more to yourself than to him as your voice trailed off at the end. “I’m sorry for calling. I knew you were in Austin, I just- I forgot. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologise,” Max told you. “You don’t ever need to apologise for calling me. You know that if I was home I’d come pick you up, right?”
A faint inhale, one that held so many feelings that your words could never express, “I know.”
“Get home safe, okay?”
“I will,” you assured him. “And good luck today. Or- tomorrow, I guess. I know you’ll kill it.”
This was how Max knew you weren’t keeping up with Formula 1. He had officially claimed his second world championship title last weekend in Japan. He could quite literally sit out of the remaining races and still hold enough points to safely stand at the top of the driver standings. 
But he wasn’t going to tell you that because he knew you’d instantly feel bad for not knowing, for not congratulating him. In your head, the championship fight went until the end of the season and typically it would, but this year was different for Max. 
Max just said thank you and you both hung up. You climbed into the backseat of an uber where there was no water waiting for you and you didn’t dare ask for the driver to play Harry Styles. Max laid back on his bed, pushing his tray of room service aside as he stared up at the hotel ceiling. 
When he returned that following Monday, Max was surprised to see dark blue streamers hanging on the outside of his door. There was a card shoved halfway underneath the door and he opened it up, looking at the delicate handwriting that read ‘heard you’re a world champion or whatever, let me know if you want to celebrate, I don’t mind picking you up for a change’. 
Max laughed as he read the card. It was very you. You didn’t give two shits about the driver championship and Max loved that. He loved that you found reasons to be his friend outside from the fact that he was a Formula 1 driver. You didn’t care that his name came with power, wealth, fame, but you still showed your support with the little you knew about racing. You were a good friend to him.
And that’s what it was. Friendship. Why else would you have written, ‘I don't mind picking you up for a change’? You weren’t offering to celebrate with him, you were offering to be the designated driver after he went out with his group of friends, the friends that did care about his career. 
Max would have gone out and celebrated with you. He would have said yes in a heartbeat, if you asked.
But you didn't. The closest that you came to going out with him was when you politely invited him to join you on your evenings out with your close circle, but Max was an afterthought. You never knocked on his door and invited him out, it was only if you passed him in the hallway or if the elevator doors opened and he was standing on the other side.
And Max said the same thing every time. ‘Nah, you have fun. Let me know if you need a ride home.’ 
Max thought you were just being friendly, neighbourly, but the truth was, you were waiting for the day where he said ‘Yeah, why not?’. 
You never went out of your way to ask him out because of the rejection you had received in passing. How embarrassing would it be if you knocked on his door only to be met with the same rejection? To see the look of pity on his face as the door slowly shut. 
There was a lot of uncertainty when it came to how you saw him or how he saw you and the only thing that was certain, was that you were friends. 
So that’s why Max didn’t knock on your door now and make up some excuse about how you left his lip gloss in his car. He returned to his room and found himself staring up at the ceiling of his flat at 2:30 in the morning, something he had gotten quite used to, until sleep took over as he was thinking about how maybe next time, maybe next Friday, he’ll make a proper move.
But a wrench was thrown into his plans when your name lit up his phone screen a few days later. It wasn’t weird that you were calling him, what he couldn’t understand was why. It was a little after three on a Wednesday. Your conversations, the phone calls, the late night drives, they were confined to weekends.
Max answered though, maybe you left work early and accidentally drank too many sangrias on a patio. He’d pick you up, of course, this was just very unlike your pattern.
He expected to hear the slurring of words. He could understand drunk you enough to piece together what you were saying.
But the sharp inhale through your words, this was new. It was clear you were actively trying to not cry into the phone, trying to hold yourself together but Max heard it as your meek ‘hi’ came through the receiver.
And god did it break him. 
“Where are you?” Max asked, already sliding his shoes on practically sprinting towards the elevator. Of course it was stuck on the main floor. No matter how many times he pressed the button, that steel boxed moved too damn slowly for his own good.
“Horizon,” you sniffed. Max recognized that restaurant. “I’m sorry, I didn’t- I didn’t know who to call. Can you-”
“I’m already on the way.”
It wasn’t far. Max pulled up outside the restaurant in under ten minutes. You were sitting on a bench, dark shades covering your eyes but Max caught the way you raised your hand to wipe your cheeks before climbing into the car. 
He didn’t even think to grab tissues before leaving his flat, but he had a feeling you would just deny them anyway. If he knew anything about you, he knew you weren’t one to cry. You had a very hard exterior, you felt things deeply, but you didn’t cry. Not in front of other people.
“Can we just- I don’t know, can we just drive for a bit?” you kept your gaze on the road in front of you. This wasn’t like you and Max would do anything to see the light in your eyes, to see your bright smile that made getting out of bed at 2 in morning worth it every time.
Max nodded, getting the idea that you didn’t want to talk. Or if you did, it would be on your own accord. You crossed one leg over the other and Max glanced at the beige romper you wore. He didn’t point out the dark red stain on your hem, but you rubbing at it was certainly not going to get it out. He could only assume it was wine? Did you spill wine on yourself at lunch? Who were you even out for lunch with?
And then he noticed you playing with the ring on your middle finger, again this wasn’t like you. You didn’t fidget and if you did, you’d play with the strands of your hair. 
Max had seen you drunk, he’d seen you a few drinks in, he’d seen you sober. 
He’d never seen you so upset over something before, though. The silence in the car was heavy. Whatever was on your mind, he wished there was a way for him to take some of the weight off of you. 
He wasn’t travelling in any particular direction, just aimlessly around Monaco, but after the seconds turned to minutes, Max saw you visibly relax against the seat of his car.
“Do you know what I do?” You asked him, pulling your sunglasses off. 
You both turned your faces towards each other. Faint mascara smudges stained the corner of your eyes. Your cheeks were still rosy, your jaw was clenched in anticipation of the rest of the conversation. This wasn’t the you that Max was used to, but it was a version of you he wanted to get to know. He wanted to know every side of you, even the sides you tried to hide behind sunglasses and spilled wine and choked back tears.
“Job wise?” Max asked for clarification. “Yeah, you’re ah- an environmental consultant? Right?”
You were a little impressed that he knew, but to be fair, you’ve had hundreds of conversations with Max and you weren’t sober for all of them. The discussion of jobs probably slipped your mind.
“I like my job,” you stated.
“Good. That’s important.”
“So why do I feel stuck?”
Max licked his lower lip, “Elaborate.”
“I’ve been doing the same thing since I graduated,” you told him, looking out the window again. Slowly, the Monte Carlo skyline was disappearing into the side mirrors. “And I like it, I do. I like the company I work for. I like the people I work with, but why does it feel like that’s the only thing I have going for me in life right now?”
“I’m sure that’s not true,” Max sighed, but if he was being honest, he had no idea. What he knew about you was minimal and it killed him.
You nodded, but it was just out of politeness so as to not argue that he was wrong. 
A few more minutes passed before you inhaled the heaviest breath your lungs could take.
“My sister’s engaged. Rina’s moving to Milan at the end of the summer. My brother travels for a living and I just- I’m not doing anything.”
So that’s what this was about. Max was smart, he could put the pieces together. You talked about your siblings a bit, but you never mentioned your sister getting married before. The way you were looking down at your hand throughout this drive told Max that this late lunch was you meeting your sister so she could announce the good news.
And something as big as that would undoubtedly send someone spiralling, making them question their own life choices, the path they were on. As long as Max has known you, you’ve had the same job, same friends, no partner. 
Your best friend moving was not new either, you had excitedly told Max about her job offer a few weeks back, but maybe it was just sinking in now. Everyone around you was moving onto bigger and better things and you were, as you put it, stuck. 
“I think I need a change of scenery,” you admitted quietly. 
Which was not what Max wanted to hear.
Selfishly, he didn’t want you to leave Monaco. Even though he was the one who was gone so many weeks out of the year for the races, he liked knowing you would always be there when he returned home. That you were just down the hall. 
Before Max could try and talk you out of moving, you reached across the centre console and put your hand over his, the one that rested on the gear stick. This wasn’t the first time you had done this, Max knew you to be a little handsy when you were drinking, but you seemed to be sober this time. 
“I’m sorry for calling you,” you said, even though you really didn’t need to apologise. “I didn’t know who else to call and I just, I needed to breathe.”
Max found comfort in that. 
That he was someone you could clear your head with, that you didn’t need to put on an act around him. In a way, you trusted him. You must have if he was your first call after your sister dropped a bombshell.
When the two of you found your way back to the apartment complex, Max walked you to the door like he always did. Your flushed cheeks had returned to its normal colour. Your eyes no longer looked glossed over. And the smile you gave him seemed genuine.
You unlocked the door and pushed it open and something in Max screamed now or never and before he knew it, he was reaching for your hand to keep you from going inside. He pulled you back to face him and the expression you wore was unreadable. 
Max froze. 
Something that he never did.
He was always calm and collected, always ahead of his thoughts, always knew what to do and when to do it. 
But that was thanks to his training and his training only prepared him for driving at ridiculous speeds and navigating dozens of race tracks and thinking on his feet in tough situations while he sat behind the wheel of an F1 car.
His training didn’t prepare him for how stunned he would feel as he met your eyes, grabbing your attention for the first time outside the safety net of his regular car.
Whatever Max wanted to say, it had now vanished and he had no choice but to rely on the words that he had told you many times before.
“You know you don’t need to apologise for calling me, right?” Max said, his hand falling from yours. 
“I know,” a faint breath of laughter followed your assurance. 
“And for the record-” Max paused. “I don’t think you’re stuck. I think you’re right where you need to be.”
Max’s words stayed with you for the next few days. In fact, they were all you could think about, even when you met Rina Saturday night at your usual spot. She had ordered you a drink, she was a few in herself already and you had barely taken a sip when she brought up the idea of you moving to Milan with her.
You almost spit out the cocktail, “I- what? Move with you? Rina, my job’s here.”
“Yeah but you’re so experienced, I’m sure you could find another one in Milan,” Rina stuck out her lower lip. “I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do without my best friend.”
While you might have contemplated moving a few days ago, you weren’t sure you were really ready to leave Monaco. This was your home, you loved it here. Despite what you said to Max about feeling stuck, his words were burned into your mind.
You weren’t stuck. You had no reason to leave. You wanted to be here. 
You just had a momentary lapse of judgement. 
“I’m not moving, Rina,” you sighed, connecting your hand with hers. “But I’ll visit and you can too. I’m still your best friend, even if we’re in different countries.”
She knew better than to plead her case any more, deciding that spending the night drinking and dancing was more fun than thinking about her upcoming move. 
And before you knew it, the DJ made an announcement for the last call at the bar and you were pulling out your phone to call Max.
“Why don’t you just tell him how you feel?” Rina said, or rather, yelled, as the music was still blaring. She saw his contact on your screen, she saw the way the corner of your lips were pulled upwards when you thought about being with him shortly. 
“Because I don’t feel anything,” you shouted back. It was a lie. A bold faced lie that your friend saw right through but didn’t push you any more on it. 
She walked with you to the curb. Max rolled down the window and waved to her, offering her a ride as well. But Rina denied it, she knew this was your time to be with Max. 
“Get home safe, I love you,” you called out, hand gripping the handle of the passenger side door. Rina blew you a kiss and then you climbed in. 
Max reached into the backseat and grabbed the bottle of water he had tossed there when he left his apartment. He waited until taking a sip before asking if you had a fun night.
“Yeah, Rina asked me to move to Milan with her,” you answered, wiping the corner of your mouth. You looked at Max expectantly, trying to gauge what his answer would be. Surely the man who told you that you were in the right place wasn’t going to encourage you to move.
Max just hummed and put the car into drive. He waited until you were a few minutes away from the club to say anything, as if seeing Rina standing on the sidewalk in the rearview mirror was somehow going to make this conversation harder.
“What did you-” Max stopped himself and chose something else to say, “You’re not moving, though. Right?”
And then you saw it. The way his eyebrows furrowed in concern. The way his hand clenched over the gear lever. The way his jaw tightened as he fought with himself before asking if you were in fact leaving.
Max didn’t want you to go. 
That thought alone made your stomach turn in knots, but not the kind you felt when you were sick. You were most definitely not sick, you could have been floating on cloud 9 when you realised Max wanted you to stay in Monaco.
“Are you kidding?” You retorted, feeling a burst of confidence. Maybe it was the alcohol, but you had been drunk before and never once tried flirting. No time like the present. “Think of how inconvenient it would be for you to drive to Milan every time I go clubbing.”
Max chuckled, his features softening as the lines around his lips made an appearance. God you loved his smile. 
“Oh so you’re staying for my sake? Well that’s- that’s really kind of you. Thank you.”
He stopped at a red light and turned to you. The heavy weight that was lingering on his shoulders when you mentioned moving had disappeared instantly. You weren’t going anywhere. You would still be here when Max returned from his races. You’d be here during the break. You’d be here, calling his phone on those Friday and Saturday nights when you needed a ride home.
“Can I ask you something?” Max spoke quietly, waiting until you nodded before getting something off his mind that had been there since this whole driving arrangement started. “Who do you call when I’m not in Monaco?”
Your smile was soft as the corner of your lips were tugged upwards. Max, if he wanted to, could have convinced himself it was the alcohol that caused you to be all smiley, but he also wanted to believe he had something to do with it. 
Dropping your gaze for a moment, you parted your lips, closed them again, and then took a breath as Max waited for your response.
“Max, I don’t go out when you’re not in Monaco.”
He was thinking he didn’t hear you correctly. Maybe you said you called some guy named Marco. That made more sense. You called a back-up rather than put your evening social life on pause while he was away.
He needed clarification, “What?”
You laughed this time, looking out the windshield. The traffic light was still red, but Max didn’t need to rely on the soft glow of the street light to make out the shade of pink that was climbing up your neck and cheeks.
“I don’t go out clubbing when you’re not in Monaco,” you repeated. He had heard you correctly.
Max wasn’t sure what to think. 
He felt like an idiot, for starters. If he had known you wanted to see him, to spend time with him, he would have put an effort in to join you during your nights out. Or better yet, maybe he would have asked you on a date. 
But he was clueless. He didn’t know that you relied on those calls at the end of the night because you were too shy to actually ask him out like a normal person would. You were too afraid of stepping outside of this pattern you both fell into because what if it didn’t work out?
Now it was all out in the open. The only reason you went out as much as you did when he was home was because you used it as an excuse to call him, to see him. 
The blaring of a horn from the car behind him caused Max to shift gears, quite literally and metaphorically. He took off, having missed the light turn green, and his attention went back to the road. 
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to look at you, he did. He very much wanted to continue this conversation but he was at a loss for words. 
The silence only grew during the drive back to your building. In the corner of his eye, he could see you shifting in the seat. You kept turning your phone on and off, hoping there would be texts to distract you from this hush that had fallen over the car. You were overthinking everything now, did you say the wrong thing? Would it have been better if you didn’t say anything?
Max too was overthinking everything. Had he misread signs you had tried to give him? Was he now making things worse by not acknowledging what you had said? With each passing second, it became more and more unbearable as you sat in anticipation for what sort of conversation was going to come next.
When Max finally pulled into the parking garage underneath the building, you couldn’t have reached for the door handle faster. You wanted to go inside, to forget you had said anything. God you even debated deleting his number from your phone so you didn’t risk calling him again the next time you went out.
But Max was quick too. 
He knew he had to do something to make up for how painful this car ride was, something that showed you he was on the same page as you, that he too looked forward to the moments he was home just so he could wait for your phone call.
He stepped out of the car when you did, walking around the front instead of heading towards the elevator. You kept your eyes down, planning on just walking right past him, and you would have, had Max not grabbed hold of your hand and pulled you into his body.
His fingers moved from your hand to your waist as his other hand cupped the side of your face and you finally looked at him for the first time since you got into the car. 
Now it was your turn to be at a loss for words, but that didn’t matter anyway. It wasn’t like you had time to say anything before Max took that leap, crossed the line, and pressed his lips to yours. 
And it was everything you had been waiting for. 
Max leaned against the hood of his car as you slid your hand up his shirt, grabbing the thin material as you wasted no time in kissing him back. His mouth was tender and soft as it moved against yours, both of you feeling the same intensity that had been building up for weeks, maybe even months now. 
It took everything in Max to not drag you back into the car and pull you on his lap in the driver's seat, an image that he had painted in his head a while ago. Instead, his grip on your waist just tightened, holding you against his chest the way he had been wanting to for a while now.
Your nose brushed against his when you pulled back, your gaze lingered on his lips before finally darting upwards. 
The parking garage was quiet, there was a low hum that came from the pipes above you. The overhead lights did nothing to set any sort of mood, but you couldn’t imagine a better place to share a first kiss with Max.
You weren’t in the safety of his car, a place that had become so comfortable to you. By waiting until you stepped out, by stopping you from walking to the elevator, Max was showing you that this was something he wanted and he wanted it when the car ride was over. He wanted it before you called him, before you went out for the night, before the weekend even started. 
He relaxed against the hood of his car, both of you sharing similar looks of serenity. There was no more confusion, no more wavering uncertainty. 
His fingers brushed through your hair before bringing your lips to his once more. 
And then there it was, that smile of yours that made getting into his car two in the morning so fucking worth it.
“What are you doing next weekend?” Max asked. He now knew the answer wouldn’t be going out with friends, that was reserved for when he was home.
You shrugged, “I’m not sure, why?”
“Well you said you wanted a change of scenery, right?” Max recalled your conversation from earlier this week. “How about the Netherlands?”
“You want me to come to a race?” You were probably the last person who should be invited to a Grand Prix and Max knew this, he even laughed at your doubtful response. 
“I really do,” he said. 
“I don’t know anything about Formula 1.”
Max rubbed his thumb over your side, the simple gesture was enough to have your body curving against his once more. 
“I have all of next week to give you a crash course,” he pointed out. “If you’re interested.” 
And of course you were. There’s nothing else you wanted more than to spend your evenings with Max, to learn more about his career, to learn about him. When your lips curved upwards into another smile, Max knew you were on board. 
“Okay,” you nodded slightly. “On one condition.”
“Which is?”
“You go out with me the next weekend you’re in Monaco.”
Max dipped his head back and laughed. You rested your hand at the nape of his neck, pulling his face back to yours. 
“I’m serious.”
“I know you are,” he chuckled. “And I will, but we’ll be leaving before last call.”
“That’s fine with me as long as you still take me home,” you pressed your lips together tightly, trying to contain your eagerness for the night that was still far in the future. Max brushed his thumb over your lower lip. He too was thinking ahead. 
Not just to that upcoming weekend, but every weekend after and all of the days inbetween. 
Coming home to Monaco was always something he looked forward to, but now he had even more of a reason to anticipate the breaks between races. You two didn’t have to wait until a Friday evening to see each other anymore. 
He didn’t have to be your first call at the end of the night, but you both knew he still would be, and so much more. 
He’d be your first call when you got home from work and you’d be his when he landed in a new country. You’d be the first person to call him after watching his winning performance of a race and likewise, you’d be the first person he wanted to talk to, the first person he wanted to celebrate with.
There’d be a lot of firsts moving forward, but you didn’t need to wait until last call anymore. 
masterlist here
this was mostly for @tsarinablogs and @estevries
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be-missed · 6 months
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Not Strong Enough (Chap 1)
Jenna Ortega X Fem!Reader
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(Pictures not mine)
Summary: Jenna was visiting her mom in the hospital to drop off the food that will be eaten for the hospital party, but she met a resident surgeon and she thought "God forbid I ran into an accident, but I want her to open me and stitch me up." While the surgeon tries her best to keep her fan girling low-key.
Warning: Probably mentions of kniv3s and blad3s or any surgical equipment. A few curse words as of now.
A/N: So plan on making a series, I don't know how long this will take and I don't want to say any promises. Hope you enjoy the story!
Masterlist
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Chapter 1
"Mom said I should drop by the hospital and bring the pizza she ordered earlier." Jenna yelled to her family while going down their front door.
"Okay sweetheart, you take care and kiss your mother for me" her dad said while blowing Jenna a kiss.
Starting the car and connecting her bluetooth, now she is ready to drive. As the traffic lights hit red, she remembered that one of her friend recommended her a song to listen to, and she played it as the light turn to green.
Humming to the addicting beat of the song, she now try to find an empty parking lot at the hospital, which is a difficult task to do by the way, a heavy amount of people comes and goes, and some that probably stayed.
Jenna almost passed a white civic that left the spot as she sigh, now this is the hardest part, harder than finding a parking lot, is to park the car itself, she is having a hard time since she is used to her mom beside her and helping her to look at the back. But she needs to be a big girl now and do this.
A minute or so have passed and Jenna congratulated herself by parking her car so good that it follows the line and got the sides an equal space. She picks her phone up and messaged her mom that she's going up to her.
While walking through the lobby of the hospital, she noticed that some people are occupied to not notice her which she is thankful since she doesn't want to have a crowd and some people looked at her and she smiled politely at them. Reaching the elevator, she pressed the close button so fast so that nobody can be with her inside it.
Humming with the elevator music, floors passes by and the doors open with a ding, walking through the same designed hallway makes her remember that scene from her old movie scream. As she reached the reception like part of the floor, she smiled brightly and tried to ask one of the nurse that was standing beside the desk.
"Uhm hey, excuse me.." Jenna started but got cut-off when the nurse got called in the surgery room for extra hands, so what she did next is to ring the table bell to attract some attention that she needs to find her mom.
"Hello, how can I help you?" a woman appeared from the back room with the brightest smile she could ever see.
Stagnant. Freeze. Stop. Pause.
That was what Jenna like for a second, and the person standing opposite to her started to panic "Hey, are you okay? Do you need water?" Y/N stated.
"Oh.. I... I need my mom." Jenna stated while trying to compose herself "Uhm, no, I mean... Yes, yes I need my mom."
The woman in front of her gives her a questionable look... "Miss I don't know who your mom is, may I know her name so I can help you find her?" Y/N stated.
Well, Y/N knows, she definitely knows who is this girl in front of her, holding 3 large pizza boxes, this woman who is slightly smaller than her, has this wonderful freckles that painted her face, who have this deep dimple on her cheek, a wavy black hair and this cute bangs. Oh, definitely she is familiar with the woman in front of her.
"Oh I'm sorry, I'm here for Natalie Ortega, she works here." Jenna stated while smiling. Damn it, did she really just froze there and told this beautiful lady that she needs her mom. She noted to herself that she needs to practice on how to stay cool and not to lose her rizz when she faces a beautiful women.
"Nat? Your mom is Natalie" The woman in front of her looks like a light bulb appeared above her head "I think she's inside the surgery helping Dr. Ava, but let me go to the surgery room, I let her know that you are here." Y/N stated while going to the other side of the desk where Jenna is.
"Oh, you don't need to, I can just wait for her." Jenna said while trying to hold the 3 large pizza boxes.
Y/N shakes her head and said "It's okay, I need to actually do something, I've been sitting there for so long my feet might forget how to walk if I didn't stand." with a little laugh at the end. She know think "Nice what a lame joke."
"Well, thank you, these pizza boxes is getting heavier" Jenna said and Y/N helped her to put it on top of the desk.
Fingers brushed, eyes locked, and lips started to curl.
"Well uhm... may I know your name?" Y/N asked the girl in front of her.
Then Jenna thinks "wow this pretty girl is so into me, she wants to know my freaking name." Jenna was so proud of herself she accidentally said "Why? So you could add me to the blank space on your list?" with a slight wiggle of her brows and a little smirk.
Y/N looked at Jenna and was stunned with what the girl said, Y/N thinks "did she just flirt with me? I mean, can it be? Or am I just delusional?" Y/N composes herself and replied "Well, I need to know your name since I need to tell her that her daughter is here, right?"
"Ground, swallow me please oh please" with that reply Jenna just wants to be swallowed by the ground where she stood way down below where her parked car is. SHE THOUGHT WRONG.
Jenna tried to just laugh it off and answered "I'm Jenna, Jenna Ortega" and offers her hand.
"I'm Dr. Y/L/N, I'm a resident surgeon here. So you can seat by the waiting area and I'll go to your mom and tell her that her daughter needs her." Y/N said and winked at Jenna and started to walk to to the surgery room.
Jenna walked to the row of chairs and started to cringe at herself from the inside. She fished out her phone and texted Aliyah:
To Aliyah:
I met this cute doctor and my mind just went blank. WTF!
Fr Aliyah:
Well having no love life really has a side effect, lol.
To Aliyah:
You know what, you are not helping at all, BYE!
Fr Aliyah:
WELL HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO REACT?
To Aliyah:
IDK maybe comfort me? I'm your sister after all.
Fr Aliyah:
Just deliver the damn pizza and go home so you can tell me all
To Aliyah:
I will, when mom gets out, bye, love you.
Fr Aliyah:
Love you too, stay safe!
Jenna turns her phone off and was surprised with Y/N standing in front of her.
"What the hell, you could have given me a heart attack." Jenna said while holding her chest.
"That's good, you are in a hospital, in front of you is a doctor, we are surrounded by our lovely nurses, you will live if ever that happened" and Y/N gave her a cheeky smile.
"Geez thanks doc" Jenna answered sarcastically with a smile "Where is my mom then?"
"Well your mom said she can't go out of the surgery room and told me to help you instead to bring the pizza boxes in the break room since you need a keycard to go in there." Y/N replied while showing her I.D.
Jenna nod and said "Lead the way then." and smiled.
While walking, Y/N is now holding the pizza boxes while Jenna strolled along beside her.
"Why did you not get my attention earlier when I was sitting and you were standing in front of me?" Jenna asked.
"You were smiling, and I thought may be you are talking to your boyfriend so I waited until you turn off your phone. I don't want to interrupt you know." Y/N answered.
Even if it is hard for her to think that Jenna have a boyfriend, she doesn't have the say when it comes to it.
"Okay. Then why is this the first time that I see you here? You said you were a resident yet I haven't seen you in my past visits?" Jenna asked, again.
Y/N replied "It's my third month here and maybe you just don't visit during my work time that's why we don't see each other."
Jenna nodded and accepted it as a valid reply.
Y/N opened taps her I.D and opened the door for Jenna to come in first "Here is the break room, and thank you for the pizza, I have been craving these for days, thank God Nat bought it for us."
"So, you and my mom are close huh?" Jenna asked again, which Y/N noticed.
"Well yes, she is approachable, sweet, and kind so, what's not to like about your mom." Y/N said with a smirk.
"Woah there, do you like my mom, just to inform you my dad and her is in a healthy relationship and we are a happy family." Jenna answered a bit annoyed. BECAUSE, why would you like her mom if she is literally in front of you. HELLO?! ARE YOU BLIND!?
"Hey, I didn't tell that I like your mom, I'm sorry if that's how you interpret it, she just makes me feel welcomed, okay? And your mom is pretty, but I like someone, yeah?" Y/N replied but inside her head, its is all "IT IS YOU, YOU DUMBASS, I LIKE YOU NOT YOUR MOM."
"Okay, I'm sorry too, I just get defensive when it comes to my family." Jenna smiled .
"Well if that is all that you need, then we finished our task. I also need to go back there, I have a surgery in 30 minutes." Y/N said with a sad smile.
"Sure, I'm sorry for holding you off." Jenna said while they go out of the room.
Walking back, Y/N didn't stopped by the reception and accompanied Jenna to the elevator.
Y/N broke the silence and took Jenna's arm which she was surprised while Y/N scribbled on her skin.
The elevator dinged which indicated that Jenna needs to go.
"See you around Jen!" Y/N stated while she rushed off.
Jenna was so baffled with the action and just waved, as the elevator door close, she lifts her long sleeves and saw a note
"My number, just in case you have more questions."
In Jenna's head "DID SHE JUST GAVE ME HER NUMBER?! WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK" and smiled to herself.
She is now determined to go to the hospital more to visit her mom and a side quest to see you.
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Chap 2 A/N: Well I think that was a long one. Comments and suggestions are appreciated. Hope you enjoyed the story and hope you wait for the next chapters!
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onlyswan · 1 year
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summary: in which sour and salt could be so sweet when jungkook’s existence reminds you that there is still good in the world.
> fluff, a pinch of angst, suggestive / wc: 3.1k
> warnings: mention of the doctor bc oc missed their period >:(, allusion to s/x, making out, jungkook doing pull ups must be a warning for the faint hearted like me
note: we’re going through the seasons?! partly inspired by #that live and jungkook for calvin klein <3 we’ve all seen those pictures right… right… i hope the onlyswan prophecy continues with this drabble i need to see jungkook do pull ups at the beach <3 + reblogs & feedback are always appreciated :D
jungkook is a sunkissed daydream and a shirtless adonis. his tender hands are on your bare thighs, keeping himself steady on the light brown sand while you sit still and look pretty on a log.
“baby, are you pregnant?”
when a man spits out this question, it usually sounds a little bit something like an anxious and insensitive ‘you’re not pregnant, are you?’ your starry-eyed boyfriend is asking you in a calm tone, joking for the most part, yet genuine wonder is painted on his face as if you’re just supposed to tell him what day of the week it is.
you stare at him with a blank expression, silent for a moment as the fierce waves crash on the shore, finding it difficult to take him seriously. “i don’t know. did you break a condom?”
he breaks eye-contact to space out, pursing his lips as he pretends to be immersed in deep thought.
“uhh, not to my knowledge.”
“then i’m not.” you shrug your shoulders with a cheeky grin, scrunching your nose. “will you steal some mangoes for me now, please?”
“is my baby craving for them that bad?” he coos at you softly, inching closer to press a kiss on your lips. “no but why do you always ask me to steal mangoes for you?”
“what do you mean ‘always’? this is only the second time.” you scoff, offended by the accusation, shoving him lightly but he quickly takes a hold of your arms to save himself from falling.
he chuckles lightheartedly, recounting the first time you visited his hometown and you took a walk around his neighborhood together. you looked at the mango tree with so much longing, and he had so much love for you, it was untameable.
nothing much has changed.
except for the color of the mangoes, perhaps. they were yellow back then, ripe and soft. you ripped off the fragile skin with your bare hands as you devoured the nectar-filled fruit, and the both of you came home to his parents’ house sticky and satiated like little kids who played under the sun from noon to afternoon. today, they’re green and plump, and truthfully, his mouth is watering for a taste.
“you know, since the tree is directly infront of our villa-” he tilts his head to the side, briefly looking at your temporary private residence. “it’s technically ours, so it’s not stealing.”
your eyes are glitter with mischief, and they communicate without words before you burst into a fit of revitalizing giggles, filling your empty tummy with a childlike joy.
for a while before jungkook, you’d forgotten people are kind. you chose to live for yourself, and yourself only, because you thought that if you lose sight of your plans for the future because of a impetuous slip within the thrill of temptation, you would also lose the essence of your being that you’re actively fighting so hard to get a good grasp of. you’re in a never-ending, excruciating process of picking apart your identity; detaching yourself from what you learned in the past to make room for growth; and swallowing bitter pills of hard-taught lessons. but when you’re in a relationship, every decision goes through a filter, a need for an answer to the question of how would this make my partner feel?
your friends still ask from time to time, what it is about jungkook that made you bend this principle and compromise your plans when those were the reasons you impulsively ended relationships in the past.
you’d forgotten people are kind.
jungkook is messy. he always leaves behind a fragment of his heart, and you shake your head and you pick up each one to stuff it in the shallow pocket of your understanding of love… until the weight of them destroyed said pocket, and all of a sudden, you have awoken. he opened your eyes to the underlying implication of that filter, how having something sacred to protect is also what makes life more worth living after all.
more than two hours ago, at seven in the morning, he held back your hair while you emptied your guts in the toilet bowl. a week ago, he held your hand in the doctor’s waiting room and didn’t let go until your name was called. that same night, you sulked about the doctor concluding that the reason you didn’t get your period last month was stress again and he teared up when you said i eat well, and i exercise regularly. but in the end it’s all useless because stress is messing up my body and i can’t control it. what do i do? the next day, he cheerfully asked you if you wanted to go see the ocean with him. right now, he’s hanging on a thick branch of a tree, enthusiastically doing pull ups while you peel the raw mangoes he picked out for you.
the familiar sounds of moans and grunts convince you to move the log you’re sitting on, abandoning the view of the majestic blue sky kissing the sparkling ocean in favor of facing your gorgeous boyfriend. he moves on to doing hanging knee tucks, pulling his knees to his chest and gradually increasing his speed and range of motion after gathering enough leverage.
“ah, this is tiring!” his yell ripples across the near-empty beach. he squeezes his eyes shut, laughing through the pain that hurts so good.
you set aside the paring knife on the plain white porcelain plate, dipping a piece of mango in the hill of salt before taking a bite (you played rock-paper-scissors to decide who would call the front desk for salt and you won after jungkook said he lost because his rock was made of paper). this, it’s just what you needed to cure the lethargy that’s been eating away at you. the combination of sour and salty explodes in your taste buds, remedying your awful loss of taste and appetite.
you shudder in sheer delight, smiling sweetly at the man brazenly showcasing his strength infront of you. “i like this a lot. i can feel my stress melting away… like ice cream under the sun.”
“i’m happy you’re enjoying yourself while i-” he cuts off his sentence, letting himself fall on the sand before jumping again to adjust his grip on the rough wood. once again, he hauls his legs upward repeatedly, reaching higher and higher each time. he releases loud huffs of air, grunting raspily with every exertion of force.
you stifle a scandalous gasp when his knees touch his wrists, covering your mouth as you grind the food with your teeth. okay, you know damn well he is flexible and a human-shaped vessel of physical strength, but you mostly witness their irrefutable testaments during intense moments of love and lust… the blissful memories can be kind of hazy.
he heaves a deep sigh, taking a rest as he hangs motionless on the branch. picture-perfect, center-frame for your adoring eyes to feast upon. his honey skin is glazed with a fine sheen of sweat, further accentuating the well-defined muscles of his torso. you only get a tease of his v-line. it hides beneath the exposed white band of his calvin klein underwear peeking above his black swimming shorts. his stomach rises and falls with each breath, and you can’t help but to marvel at his abs with appreciation. beautifully prominent, sculpted not too much. you love that when you touch them, you still feel the tenderness of his flesh, so rawly and so uniquely jungkook.
“you like what you see?” he grins when your eyes meet, winking at you flirtatiously.
“i do.” you sheepishly admit, scrunching your nose before putting another slice of mango on top of your tongue. “keep going. i want to see more.”
“more? you want more?! aish- so demanding.” he complains, thick satoori accent dripping from his voice but still, he gives you more.
you giggle in satisfaction, closely observing the flexing of his muscles and the veins along his arms popping out. one must think you’re used to his tattoos by now, but you’re definitely not. you just learn how to act unaffected, like you can’t write a book of poems about how his body art never seizes to bring you in absolute awe. his eyebrows knit as he pulls himself up, face crumpling with the amount of force and strength he utilizes with every manuever. it’s a seductive scene, but then the dimples on his cheeks make fondness bloom in your heart.
for the love of god, it’s not compromising your plans, but making jungkook a part of your plans. you no longer fantasize about a perfect life. you just want to keep waking up somewhere safe— to be here, standing on the tips of your toes, planting a delicate kiss on the mole at the lower right side of his ribcage. your lips have made one too many sharp mistakes, but they ghost over his skin and he laughs. laughs so joyfully, a majestic string of musical notes from his mouth no other instrument on earth can recreate. it’s a good mistake, the best mistake you could ever possibly make.
“here, drink.“ you offer him a bottle of cold water.
“i’m so tired. oh, fuck-” he does one final pull up before letting go, deliberately falling on the sand and bumping against your feet when he rolls over.
he sits up, warm body vibrating with giggles as he looks up at you.
“did you pack a first aid kit?“
you put a hand over your hip, raising an eyebrow. “what happened now?”
“my hands-” he stares at his palms, sand coating half of the area, before showing them to you. “they sting like hell! seriously!” his little lisp slips out as he rants.
”then why did you keep going?!” you exclaim, grabbing his tattooed wrist to assess the damage. there’s no blood in sight, but his skin has turned a very bright shade of red.
“because it was fun.” he simply answers, and you can’t argue with that.
of course you brought a first aid kit. it’s a necessity, especially when you’re on vacation with your gym bunny boyfriend, apparently. while you grab the ointment in the bedroom, jungkook decides to clean himself up under the outdoor shower situated in a corner beside the swimming pool.
“what’s wrong with this? why are they going at the same time?” he scratches his head in confusion, looking up at the spraying shower head and down at the gushing faucet. he fiddles with the handle in hopes of fixing his problematic water consumption, unintentionally pushing it up higher as he does so. this causes the water pressure to become stronger, sending thin needles to crash down and pierce his fragile skin.
“aw shit-” he reflexively runs away from the rude attack of the silver device. “yah, you punk! what did i to you, huh?! how dare you-”
he clicks his tongue in irritation, resting his hands on his hips. after glaring one more time, he extends his tattooed arm to push the handle all the way down, turning it off. he proceeds to experiment, tilting it to the left, which turns on the faucet only, and then to the right for the shower.
he laughs sarcastically at his discovery, going back under the water. “ahhh, was i the stupid one?”
“i missed you!” he declares loudly as soon as you step out of the sliding door.
“me too, babe.” you hum as you walk towards him, standing a considerable distance from the shower.
he wipes his face with his hands to unblur his vision before pushing back his wet hair, droplets of water endlessly rushing down his body.
“why are you so far?” he protests. “come here.”
“but i already took a shower.”
“so what? you’ll get wet again when we ride the jet ski later.”
you pout at him. “i told you i’m scared.”
“i’d be jack if i have to, i won’t let you drown! don’t you trust your boyfriend, hm?” he attempts to persuade you again after failing last night, knowing well that you’d enjoy yourself only if you overcome your fear of the deep waters. “it will be fun, i promise.”
“ugh, fine. only because you promised.” you weakly succumb to his wishes, setting down the small jar of ointment on the ground.
he happily pulls you in for an embrace, burying his face in the crook of your neck while your arms wrap around his waist. the only barrier between your chests is the thin and small fabric of your red bikini, thoroughly soaked by the cold water combatting the rising heat of the approaching noon. you can feel the rough grains of sand that were washed away from his skin under the soles of your feet, contrasting the feather-light kisses being scattered on your neck. and this feels so utterly liberating, you refuse for it to end, allowing yourself to be hastily pinned against the wall when his supple lips meet yours.
he cups the back of your head and his long and slender fingers dig into your hair, protecting you from accidentally hitting the hard cement. the small thoughtful gesture makes you smile into the kiss. he is not real, he can’t be. if this is a dream, you’re begging the sun to never rise. his gentle hands slowly travel down the expanse of your back, until they reach your hips, teasingly tugging past the side straps of your bikini bottoms before kneading the soft flesh of your ass. he swallows the strangled whine that escapes you, slipping his tongue past your parted lips. he’s addicted to how your body language speaks to him when you get intimate, how you lovingly caress his face and his arms, slow and sensual, but then unconsciously dig your nails to mark crescent moons on his skin when you begin getting lost in your combined passion.
he wants this. he wants you. he wants to spend the rest of his life kissing you and wringing the water from your hair.
you’ve deserted the log to comfortably sit cross-legged with jungkook on the lounge chair, under the shade of the brown umbrella rooted in the soil.
“mhmmm! it’s so delicious!” jungkook carefully dips the slice of mango in the salt once more, wary of the ointment from his hand smearing on the food, before muching on it eagerly. “so crunchy!”
you pause from tending to his left hand, looking at the plate between the two of you to learn that he is nearly finished with the second mango. you only have one left.
“damn!” he dramatically curses with his eyes squeezed shut, punching the salt air. without context, a stranger would probably guess that he tragically lost a bet or remembered an embarrassing memory from highschool. but really, he’s just enjoying some pretty good food. this is the fourth time in the past five minutes that he precisely did the same thing, and yes, you’ve been counting.
“is it that yummy?” you chuckle, extremely endeared and contented when he looks this excited around food. he is the only person in the world who can make you say i’m full just by watching you eat and mean it.
“it was your idea!” he bobs his head while energetically rocking from side to side, cheeks round and full as he chews. “i haven’t eaten something new in a long time. i love it… i should give the resort five stars for my review. just for this. i’ll say i’ll come back again for the mango tree.”
“or i don’t know, we can just plant one ourselves.” you propose before lightly blowing on his inflamed palm.
“but, baby, that would take years!” he interjects. “we need to buy another house, one with a backyard, and wait at least five years for it to grow. i’ll be thirty-two by then. are you hearing that?!”
the disgusted look on his face elicits a burst of amused laughter from you, stomach hurting with a reason miles better than earlier’s. he winces at the thought of entering his 30’s in the very near future. it feels odd to think about, but it’s a little less daunting with the tree added to the picture.
he picks up the final slice on the plate, smothering it with a thin layer of salt before devouring it entirely. he whimpers, high-pitched and wide-eyed, clasping his hand over his mouth before the other one you’re holding slips away from the solace of your care. he free falls from the chair, limply collapsing on the sand. and just like that, he’s covered in them again, from his damp hair down to his wiggly toes.
you move closer to look at him, dangling your legs on the edge. “darling, you’re still alive, aren’t you?”
he spreads out his limbs like a starfish, dreamily peering into the vast cloudy sky. “oh? i think this is exactly what it means to be alive.”
beyond his words, it’s the way he said them. without shyness, without qualms, without pondering. it makes him sound purely sincere, his mellifluous voice gracefully echoing louder than the nihilistic thoughts in your head, and you believe him.
he abruptly sits up, crawling on his knees to reach you. “baby! it’s too good! i want more!” he cries out, feigning desperate sobs as he hugs your legs. “i want more. let’s eat the third one, please.”
“fuck, okay. calm down. we’ll have it.” you cackle, stroking his hair while he rests his head on your lap.
you drag the plate to your side, slicing the last mango with practiced precision and skill. he, then, closes his eyes and bathes in your presence, his warm breath fanning you. it’s peacefully silent for a while, only the sounds of the knife dragging across the fruit and the waves chasing each other to the edge of the sea can be heard. that is until your boyfriend grows bored. he puckers his lips to brush against your soft skin, insatiable, climbing higher and higher until he’s peppering your inner thigh with kisses.
tingling sensations inevitably spark in your lower region, and you click your tongue to rebuke him. “jungkook, behave. i might cut myself if you keep that up.”
his lips curve into a naughty smirk, shifting a bit further down. “sorry.”
“do you want to get sunburnt? get back up here, on the chair.” you bounce your legs to shake him off, but your efforts prove to be fruitless.
he groans, stubbornly holding on to you tighter. “no, i don’t want to.”
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feyreswaterybowels · 17 days
Text
⭒The Silent One⭒
#2 Azriel x Fem!OC
⭒Part 1⭒Part 2⭒Part 3⭒Part 4⭒
Word Count: 3.8k
Summary: Cassandra decides to join the IC for dinner. Things feel weird and wrong but also…safe and comfortable. She opens up to them about her past traumas and gets to know more about them.
Warnings/Tags: mentions physical and visual sexual abuse in the recent past. describes physical violence. trauma. mute character. slow burn. protective!azriel. protective!IC.
Authors Note: All reblogs, likes and comments are welcome, appreciated and encouraged! Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for the next part! Regular italics are inter thoughts while bold italics are her communicating with other people mentally.
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“Relax,” Nuala cooed as she helped Cassandra ease into the large bath, warm and floral scented.
Cassandra had never been in a bath like this. Only one suited for regular fae without wings. They had been cramped and uncomfortable and nearly impossible to bathe everywhere without hurting a wing. But this bath? It was huge and could easily fit multiple people with and without wings. It stretched all the way to one of those glassless windows where the water spilled over in a soothing stream.
She leaned back when Nuala prompted, letting her wings float in the water. It was so nice the way they felt so weightless. Nuala tilted her head back and their eyes met as she cupped her hands with water and poured it over Cassandra’s white hair. She lathered it with a nice smelling soap, massaging at her scalp.
It was difficult to lay there and relax while someone else washed her hair. It reminded her of the mistress, how when she bathed her and washed her hair it was rushed and rough and…and when she washed her hair like this she would sometimes push her head under the water and hold her there—
Cassandra bolted up with a gasp, hands coming up to wipe away the water that fell down from her hair and over her face, chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. She whirled around, wide eyes catching Nuala’s, trying to desperately apologize for what she had done. The female just shook her head gently.
“It’s okay,” She said, “would you like to be left alone for a moment?”
Cassandra considered this, she both wanted to be alone and have someone else around. But she nods her head. Cerridwen walked in then, a stack of something in her hand.
“Clothes for you,” she said, sitting the stack on a shelf across the room. “We will be back but if you finish with your bath and wish to dress before we return the clothes will be here.”
Cassandra nods. She doesn’t know what else to do, but the females seem to understand, offering her small nods in return before leaving the room—the heavy door closing as they leave the bedroom the bedroom.
She sinks down in the water once she’s sure she’s alone. So much has changed in such a short time and she’s still not sure if this is all real. These people…they could change any moment. Drag her from this huge room and throw her into a prison cell and use her for whatever they pleased.
Turning in the water she pushed herself towards the other end of the tub, the one that waterfalls over the edge. What she sees there takes her breath away, an audible gasp leaving her lips.
The first thing she notices is all the lights, it looked exactly like the painting she saw with Morrigan. There was so much to look at. But what she really wanted to see was the beautiful sight above that. The night sky. The thousands of stars twinkling above, surrounding a bright moon.
She could have cried looking at the sight. But not because she felt sad, she felt safe. Comfortable. Content. Like this was where she was meant to be.
Eventually she did get out of the bath, drying herself off with the fluffy white towel that was unnaturally warm. She stopped in front of the mirror, surprised at her own reflection. She looked so different from the last time she actually saw herself. Her skin that was once a golden caramel color was lighter and ashen, dark circles under her green eyes. Her white hair slicked back with water was thinner than when it used to fall in thick ringlets as a girl. Her rib cage and hip bones protruding in a way they always had but wished they hadn’t. She had wanted a thicker, fuller body like the girls she saw at the pleasure houses. A strong body like her mothers used to be. A body that could hold up her wings and maybe one day…fly.
She had gotten dressed before Nuala and Cerridwen returned. The clothes weren’t like anything she’d ever worn before. Cream colored pants that were lined with a fuzzy material that was softer than anything she’d ever worn before. The top was a matching cream, flowy top with sleeves that stopped at her elbows and buttoned up the back to accommodate her wings. The shoes were white, flat and slipped on her feet easily.
She chose not to attend dinner that night. She wasn’t sure she could stomach any food. The twins looked disappointed. Her decision had been made to gauge how she would be treated if she didn’t have dinner with this high lord male.
She didn’t leave her room the following day either.
Or the day after that.
No one bothered her. No one came to drag her from the room kicking and screaming. No one beat on the door or called her horrible names. No one held her down or forced the food into her mouth. In fact no one except Nuala and Cerridwen came to her room at all.
And when they came they would bring a small tray of food, she only ever drank the tea and ate the biscuit and left everything else. She didn’t want to take too much before knowing if she was expected to do something in return.
When she finally felt safe enough she agreed to dinner on her fourth night. Nuala bathed her again. She couldn’t help the panic that overcame her once again as the female washed her hair but she cooed at her, soothingly before getting up and leaving her to finish alone as she had the first night.
Cerridwen took on fixing her hair, drying and styling it into waves that fell over her shoulders. Once she was done and dressed Nuala put a cream on her face and spritzed her with something that smelled sweet.
When they were done she felt like a different person. She felt clean. Comfortable. Alive.
There wasn’t much time to dwell on her feelings of finally leaving the room before Nuala and Cerridwen pulled her up and escorted her down the maze of hallways.
“Just two doors down, you’ll find the dining room,” Cerridwen pointed down the hall with a small smile. Cassandra wanted to ask why they weren’t also joining but when she turned to face them they were just gone as if they disappeared into thin air.
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Walking into the dining room was a weird feeling. Cassandra didn’t feel like she belonged there. In the fancy room, with a huge table filled with foods…foods she had never seen before. The four people she had met three days ago��and another she hadn’t met, all sat around the table talking in hushed whispers.
Azriel was the first to look over. His eyes met hers and offered her a small smile. “Cassandra,” his deep voice greeted.
“I’m glad you decided to join us this evening, please come sit,” Rhysand said, standing and motioning to the empty seat next to him, where Azriel would be on her other side—Morrigan in front of her and Cassian next to her. The other female at the opposite end of the table from Rhysand.
Cassandra hesitated for only a moment before walking over and realizing that the chair was designed to accommodate wings. She wouldn’t have to sit at some weird angle to be comfortable. Her eyes meet Azriel’s, the gentle look on his face a comfort she needed. He stood from his spot, sliding the chair out and gesturing for her to sit.
She felt eyes on her as she scanned all of the food in front of her. She had never seen so much food.
“I trust everything went okay the last few days?” Rhysand asked as he took his own seat once again.
“I freaked out a little when Nuala was washing my hair…” Cassandra admitted, shoulders hunching in embarrassment.
“That’s okay, no need to be upset. You’ve been through a lot, it’s expected. Nuala and Cerridwen are understanding and won’t hold it against you. You have my word on that.”
She wanted to say thank you again but didn’t feel it was appropriate. She didn’t know what else to say so she nodded her head and looked towards that other female, freezing as she looked into glowing silver eyes. She had never seen anything so…beautiful and terrifying at the same time.
A snort to her side caught her attention and she looked at Rhysand.
“Sorry, I just heard that,” Rhysand said, Cassandra’s eyebrows pulled together before realization dawned on her. The comment about the other female… “Amren.” Rhys supply’s the name.
She looks back to the female, to those eyes that make her not want to look away.
“Hello, girl,” She greets, and it’s not a terrifying rumble, but a genuine greeting.
Cassandra offers a small smile, feeling a draw to the small female. No one else spoke so she reached for a plate but before her fingers could even graze it, it filled with food before her eyes. She blinked at it in shock, looking to Rhysand to see if he had done it.
There was a small smile on his lips as he shook his head.
“The house is enchanted, it does what it pleases. You wanted food so it filled your plate for you,” Azriel spoke, she looked over at him then back at the plate.
Oh, wow. She thought…the food had even been diced into smaller pieces as she had told Rhysand. Her eyes fell on the wine glass in front of her—she wouldn’t drink it, couldn’t, so she looked at Azriel again then around the room. Water. And just like that, a glass of water appeared in front of her.
Cassandra felt the corners of her mouth twitch up, eyes meeting Azriel’s again then Rhysands before she grabbed the glass of water.
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“It’s pretty awesome, right?” Cassian spoke, his long hair that had been pulled back earlier now fell to his shoulders.
Cassandra nodded in answer, sitting her glass back on the table. Rhys took his seat, grabbing his wine glass, silently observing the female as she reached for her fork.
“I’ve never had this much food before…”
Rhys isn’t surprised but he’s not expecting the words and they make his heart hurt.
“Eat as much as you’d like,” Rhys says warmly, watching as she scoops up some warm potatoes and brings them to her lips.
“Mm” she hums, eyes closing. “That’s so good!” Rhys doesn’t answer, he can tell she’s not speaking to him consciously, she’s just thinking, not a single mental shield to protect her fragile mind.
It’s the next bite that wipes the small mine from all the faces. No longer an exploratory bite but a ravenous one. One after another, eating quickly and without restraint. Eating in a way that meant she had been starving, had never had an adequate food supply, had never been allowed to eat more than what was given.
She didn’t speak and neither did they. None of them would tell her to stop or slow down, all having been there at some point in their lives. They had all known that hunger at one point or another. So they let her eat. And drink. And eat some more.
Potatoes. Greens. Fruit. Meat. Bread. A plate appeared next to her holding a slice of cake and she ate that too—she had never had cake before but no one else at the table knew that.
It’s only when her plate is empty that anyone speaks up. It’s Cassian that asks, “How do you feel you’re settling in?” It’s an attempt to bring about a conversation without making her uncomfortable.
Cassandra takes a slow sip of water, breathing deeply as she does before looking at Rhysand who nods in confirmation that he’ll give her answer.
“Honestly…I feel more comfortable here than I have ever felt anywhere else.”
“That’s wonderful! We want you to be as comfortable as possible,” Morrigan chimes in, excited as if she’d been waiting to talk to Cassandra for the past three days. “When we didn’t see you for three days we were worried—well I was. The boys wanted to give you some space.”
“I didn’t know what was expected of me,” she says, Rhysand repeats her and she’s met with confused frowns. “That’s why I stayed away, didn’t eat much. I didn’t know if anything would be…expected of me in return if I did.”
“You have no debt to us, Cassandra. Nothing is expected of you,” Rhysand speaks, his voice firm but gentle. “If you wish to come to dinner you eat your fill until you’re satisfied. If you need clothes you wear what you like and it’s yours to keep. Nothing will ever be taken or held against you as punishment of any kind.”
Cassandra blinks at him, feels the wetness in her eyes as she nods. There’s just one nagging question in her mind, one she needs an answer to before she gets too comfortable.
“Why am I here then?” She asks, setting her fork down on a freshly filled plate, half as full as before.
Rhysand lets out a sigh before telling the others what she’d asked.
“You are here because I received word from one of Azriel’s spies—I’ll give you a more in depth explanation on what that means at another time—that pleasure houses in my court were buying and selling females against their will,” Rhysand begins to explain. “See we have many pleasure houses in Velaris but it has always been law that consent is the main requirement for anyone involved. Those who work or visit have to be there because they want to be there.”
“So, when we got word this law had been broken, Rhys sent us out to patrol the pleasure houses,” Azriel said, drawing her attention to him, “he needed solid proof of the law being broken before he could step in. Cassian and I, we saw you there. Scared. Frightened. Clearly not there of your own free will and didn’t feel it was safe for you to stay there.”
Cassandra looked at him, taking in the shadows swirling around him. His kind hazel eyes, the blue siphons glowing on his scarred hands. Remembered how when her eyes first landed on him on the other side of those bars she had been absolutely terrified of him.
“What about the…Mistress?” She asked turning away from Azriel to look at Rhysand.
“You no longer have to call her mistress, her name is Kamari. She is still here in our cells, she’s not been harmed. We are working to gather some intel from her. Who her bosses are, where they are buying the females and any other information we can get from her. She’s been cooperative in giving us the information we need to stop this from happening to any other females,” Rhysand said, eying the female in front of him before looking to his second in command.
“Do you have any information that may help us, girl? Anything we could use against that female to get more information?” Amren asks, fixing her smoky eyes on the female.
Cassandra was quiet for a moment, thinking. Trying to piece together everything she could remember. She looks up and nods her head. Everyone seemed to sit a little straighter, their full attention on her alone.
“My father is the one who sold me to a male named Vale. Blue skin, a long deep scar across his face, black eyes…mean and very strong—”
Rhysand hold his hand up, relaying the information to Azriel and you watch curiously as one of his shadows darts away and out of a window.
“Cassandra, do you mind if I open up a channel for everyone to hear what you say to me? It will help us find these people,” Rhysand asks, she doesn’t need to think before she nodded. She wanted to help in any way she could. Help any girls going through what she did and stopping more from going through it.
“Please, continue,” Rhysand encouraged.
“The male, Vale, had bought other females. He kept me me in a dark room under his home with three other females. He—he raped one of the girls many time but not me or the other two girls. He said he would get more money for us if we stayed…untouched.” Cassandra’s stomach rolled at the memories. Nauseated, remembering the cries of that poor girl every time that man came down stairs and hurt her. She could see the anger in the eyes that surrounded her, could practically feel it radiating from them. Their fists and jaws clenched tightly, wings rigid and shoulders taunt. But she continued.
“I stayed there for a few months before he took me to that…pleasure house? I’m not sure what happened to the other girls. I think he may have kept the one he raped.”
“Do you know their names?” Cassian asks and she’s nods. How could she ever forget them?
“Seera, Juno and Neema. I believe Seera and Juno were sister but I’m not completely sure. We tried not to talk too much because it made the male very angry,” She took a deep breath, trying not to remember the time he had nearly crushed her throat for merely asking to use the bathroom.
Unbeknownst to her she had sent that mental image to them who were seething with anger at what this poor girl had gone through.
“Once I was at that place I was introduced to Miss—I was introduced to Kamari,” She continued, needing to get away from the memories of that male. “She was in charge of my training. She stripped me naked, told me I would never own a pair of clothes again. That I was to be naked and ready for any male to take me whenever they pleased. I was to learn things that would…please these males. Anytime I refused I was beaten. So, for months I watched other females pleasure males in many ways. But only watched. They said—she said I would be sold for a lot of money for being untouched. That whoever paid the most could do whatever they wanted to me. When I saw the two of you I thought—” She swallowed thickly eyes shooting between Azriel and Cassian. “I though you were going to—”
Her voice cracks and she looks away. Morrigan pushes out of her chair, walking around the table. “Can I hug you?” She asks.
All Cassandra can do is nod letting Morrigan wrap strong arms around her. Hugging her tightly. Holding her in a way that reminded her of her mother before she died. After a moment Morrigan pulls away offering a napkin to wipe her eyes.
“Cassandra, dear, we can be done for today if it’s too much to continue,” Rhysand offers gently.
She nods gently, feeling as if maybe she wasn’t much help at all. The rest of dinner is spent in silence, Cassandra hunched into herself while the other four fae think about killing everyone who hurt this innocent girl and many more.
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It’s later that evening when Cassandra slips from her room. The stone floor is cold under her feet and the satin nightgown doesn’t do much to keep the cold from her skin so she tucks her wings around her body.
She makes her way to the roof of the house, a training area the twins had told her was up here—they had also told her it was the best place to view the stars.
It’s a breathtaking sight. The wind whips her hair around as she walks to the edge. The lively city sparkling below while the endless sky shines above. Beautiful. She sighs gazing at the sight of the silver moon and tapestry of stars.
“I wasn’t expecting anyone else to be up here at this time,” Cassandra spins around, sighing in relief when she spotted Azriel, she hadn’t heard him come out at all.
“Sorry, I couldn’t sleep. I always loved looking at the stars,” She said, grateful Rhys had made it to where she could communicate—at least with the few people here.
Azriel gives her a lopsided smile that makes her heart stutter. “No need to apologize, that's why I’m out here too. The night sky has always been…soothing.”
She turns back to the ledge as he walks closer.
“You know, my father he was ashamed to have children with wings,” Cassandra said, as Azriel watched her from the side, her white hair shining in the moonlight—those green eyes glowing again. “He kept us locked away, and didn't want anyone to see us. My mother had her wings taken when she was a teenager. She said normally they just clipped them but her father was especially cruel and completely took hers away. Well, when my father was drunk enough or didn’t come home some evening my mother would bring us out and let us look at the stars, she taught us the constellations. And I got to see Starfall with her only one time before she died. It was…the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. After she died I never saw the stars again—not until the night you and Cassian took me away from that horrible place.”
Azriel did his best to simmer his anger, to clutch his shadows tightly that so badly wanted to reach out and comfort the female—to wipe away the glistening tears on her cheeks. She looks over at him then and he looks up at the sky so as not to reach out for her.
“Your mother seems like a lovely woman,” He says, hoping the opportunity to talk about her mother may make her feel better.
The smile that came over her face wasn’t what he was expecting. The way it lit up her face had his shadows singing in his ear. Beautiful. She’s beautiful.
She wiped her cheeks with one hand and nodded.
“She was amazing. She tried to protect us from him but she was just as afraid of him as we were. She didn’t know how to get out. But she took care of us. She was still young when she died—he says she died from taking some kind of herbs, that she took her own life. But I—I always believed he did it.” Azriel took in a shuttery breath.
“I’m sorry,” He said, struggling to find the words to comfort her.
“Me, too. I wish I could have protected her the way she protected me. But now she’s up there with the stars looking over us. Watching me, I think she would be happy I got out. I just hope I can help protect someone else the way I should have protected her.” She folded her arms across her chest and turned away from the ledge. “I think I’ll try to get some sleep. Goodnight, Azriel.”
Azriel watched her walk away. Night gown blowing in the wind, the beautiful broken girl disappearing into the shadows.
tag list: @aelinwya @starlightandsouls @fullmoon-94 @aetherl0l @caticorn61 @lilah-asteria @blackgirlmagicforever @div94
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finelinevogue · 11 months
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just an idea, but what about the fact that harry has fine line on the setlist… 👀
just remember it’s all your decision and what your up for writing
Xx
fine line kisses
you made me cry writing this cause i had fine line playing in the background too🥹
word count: +1.5k
pairing: boyfriend!harry x reader
You were stood to the side of the stage when it happened.
Harry was on stage and about to finish his last song before the encore and you were ready to greet him with a loving kiss for all his hard work so far.
Just as you watched him finish up Watermelon Sugar, he walks to the side of the stage opposite to you and you wonder whether he's forgotten which side of the stage to come off from. However when you see him pick up his galaxy and cat painted guitar you begin to wonder what he is up to.
Harry walks over to the microphone as the crowd softens their deafening cheers to see what he has to say next.
"How are we doing Denmark?" He asks again, always checking in on his fans to make sure they're all still alright.
The crowd screams and settles down as Harry strums one random chord on his guitar, probably to check that it is working.
"This next song wasn't planned until about an hour ago. It's one that means a lot to me and I am aware it means a lot to all of you too." He pauses to let the screams deafen the stadium, as people begin to guess what song is going to be played next. "Tonight, though, I am playing this song for my girlfriend. This is Fine Line."
The familiar strum of chords sounds through the stadium and you have to keep yourself from letting your legs collapse beneath you.
Your eyes water at the mere first few strums of the guitar and your gaze doesn't falter from your boyfriend on stage.
This was not real.
It was hard to comprehend that he was finally playing Fine Line at a show that you were in attendance of. You always go on about it being his best song and how it means so much to you, but you never thought he would so openly declare that.
The fans would thank you later.
Throughout the whole song you sway your body gently and cup your hands together over your mouth. The tears don't stop falling as you quietly sing along with him. In a stadium full of thousands it just feels like you and him in this moment.
The crowd looks beautiful with their flashlights on and the lights in the stadium are dimmed to pink. The ambience is unforgettable.
Harry's vocals are something magical to behold too. He has never pushed himself to sing notes he finds difficult, just in case his voice breaks or gets hurts, but tonight he pushes all those boundaries. He sings in a higher key for the second verse and the crowd cheer because of it. You nod your head silently as you watch him present the best performance of his career.
With the horns too, the music is something else.
By the end of the song where it is just the instrumental you are fully crying and your body is shaking as you sob. The makeup that you had put on is no, no doubt, smudged all over your face.
"Thank you. Thank you so much." Harry repeats as he holds his hand of his heart and air-kisses all of his fans.
And before you know it, he is running off backstage to the wing that you're stood in.
You walk backwards as he runs towards you and the rest of his team. They all clap and cheer for him, just as the audience is. He only had three minutes before he has to go back onstage for the encore.
When he catches sight of you he can't help but frown. He walks over to you with his arms open wide. You, however, walk back away from him.
"No. Don't even..." You shake your head, still crying.
If he touches you now, you may never stop crying because of how much love you have for him. It'll all come to fruition with one hug.
"Baby, don't be silly. You need a hug." He chuckles as you still won't let him near you.
"No. You have ruined me. Look at me!" Your tone of voice shows Harry that you are only joking, but he still wants to be near you just in case a small part of you is genuinely sad.
"You look beautiful."
"I am a mess, no thanks to you." You let out a strained groan as you try to compose yourself.
"Was my performance that bad?" He teases, standing in front of you but no longer trying to touch you. He didn't want to overwhelm you.
"Fuck off." You give him a sarcastic glare. "You know it was good. Better than good, actually. And I'm... fuck... I'm really p-proud of you a-and I love you." You begin to cry again.
"Y/N, baby..." He says quietly.
"Ugh you're so annoying. Why am I crying?" You laugh in joke.
Harry laughs too, dimples out from smiling so hard. He never thought that his music could impact someone this much, but it makes him feel alive to see someone react so emotionally to his music.
"You're allowed to cry, babe, it's fine. You're alright."
"Don't even go saying things like that right now. It's too soon." You point a glare at him as you breathe to cool down.
"Okay, take some deep breathes with me. In, one, two, three and out, one, two three.." Harry repeats with you, stepping a little closer to you each time.
By the seventh count he has managed to wrap his arms around you, one around your waist to pull you infinitely close, and the other to cup around your head protectively as you rest it on his chest. You've stopped crying and he can tell your sadness is dissipating with every second he holds you.
"I love you so much." He says against your head, kissing the crown of your head a couple of times. He feels your arms squeeze around his waist in response.
"I love you too." Your response is muffled, since you're buried so deep into the softness of his chest.
"Sorry I made you cry." He laughs and you feel his chest moving from his laughter.
“Sorry I’m a blubbering mess.”
"It's okay. You can cry as much as you want, because I'll always be here to give you a hug."
"You'll set me off again if you're not careful." You warn him, before he says anything more smushy.
He laughs a giggle that makes you happy to hear, "Sorry."
"H! Thirty seconds!" Someone shouts to him.
You pull away from him. Harry reaches up to your eyes to wipe underneath any mascara debris. He smiles as he does so, making you smile in return.
"Beautiful." He reminds you.
"I love you." You remind him.
"I love you too." He smiles, "And stay right here, okay? I want to run straight off this stage, after, and proper kiss you. Don't leave me."
"You'll get your post-concert kiss, H." You nod knowingly, because he never misses it.
"It's all I'll be thinking about."
You blow him an air kiss in anticipation of the real one, which he catches and pretends to pocket until he can really get to kiss you.
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didishawn · 1 year
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@kiki1803
Red bikini (Gavi x Reader) smut
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Warnings: smut, some Spanish
Masterlist
You wanted the tiny, skimpy bikini to be a surprise, making sure to cover up before your boyfriend saw, he didn't think anything weird about it, looking back, he should have suspected by the smug look you had the entire time.
The piece of cloth fits you like a glove, your tits almost spilling out, ass looking so fucking delicious, red si pretty on you, he can't keep his eyes from you the entire time you swim around together, get out from the water looking like so perfect.
He is always around you, almost guarding you he wants the view to be for his eyes only, and it makes him angry whenever he catches any of his friends watching, shit, even Sira is staring, that's how good you look.
His hands are on you the whole time, you can feel his boner against your back, grinding into it, then leaving him.
This happening one time, then another, then another, always walking off before spinning around and smirking at him.
He is desperate, so fucking hard, and he can't get out of the water or everyone will see his cock pushing against his swimsuit, body filling up with jealousy when he sees you and Pedri, his friend chatting you up -that fucker.
As soon as there is no one paying him attention, he is fast on his feet to occupy the bathroom, swimsuit soon pushed down and dropping to his ankles, hand around himself -since you are such a big meanie, he will have to do the job himself.
The hold he has on himself is tight, he knows he will have to be fast, difficult, as only you can have him cumming at such speed.
He jerks himself off, hand moving up and down, playing with his tip, the other going down to stimulate his balls, so heavy and full after literal hours of not meeting his sweet release.
He is silently moaning, praying no one is near to catch him as he feels his release approaching, thrusting hard against his own hand, and just as he finally cums, stomach painted white, the door opens and he jumps on his place, eyes meeting yours.
You look him up and down, eyes fixated on his softening cock, the remains of his fluids.
You smile sweetly -but he knows you are not sweet at all, at least today, you are nothing but cruel.
You take a step closer to him, dropping to your knees, his eyes widen as you grasp his cock, bringing it closer to your mouth, tongue sticking out and licking his tip, making him tense up and moan as you enjoy the taste, tongue then going up and cleaning his tummy.
"Sabes muy bien, Pablito" (tasting really good, Pablito)
You stand up again, enjoying how his cock grows back up.
"Tomate tu tiempo, llevas esa cara que siempre pones tras correrte" you kiss his cheek, and like the cruel minx you are, leave him alone with his boner again. (take your time, you have that face you always have when you cum)
You are cuddling in bed, after stating to be too tired to help him get off again -a lie, you both know it, you just want to make him crazy.
You are fast asleep, and he is still fucking horny, looking so pretty in the lingerie you chose to use as pijamas because you are a tease.
He stares at you, hearts on his eyes-he can't help but hate loving you so much because right now he wished he could hate you after all you have made him, go through today.
He looks down, you nipples hard against the thin cloth that makes your tits look so plushy and big.
He is tired, tired of being so horny, so there is no regrets in waking you up.
You are woken up in the most delicious way that exists, your boyfriend's cock grinding against your tummy, his lips attached yo your nipple through the beautiful fabric, the other being pinched.
"¿Enserio?" you, ask him, and he just grins. (seriously?)
"¿Qué te esperabas? Después de haberme dejado con ganas de más todo el puto día" he groans, finally feeling you against him makes Gavi realise he won't last at all "Por favor, déjame follarte, aunque sea solo la punta, no necesito mucho para correrme, lo prometo" (What were you expecting? After making me horny the entire fucking day. Please, let me fuck you, even if it's just the tip, I don't need much to cum, I promise)
You sigh and roll your eyes, acting annoyed even if you both know there is nothing you want more right now that having him inside you, filling you up as he ruts into you.
You turn around, and he takes it as his signal to push your panties aside, your leg raised up as he slams into you -not just the tip, that was a stupid proposal and you both damm weel knew it.
He appears to be in heat, thrusts so fast, so hard but not controlled at all, the only purpose of this is to finally get to fill you up with his cum.
His hand goes to your front, teasing your clit, he likes how you tighten up, your moans and whines are breathy, he grunts with each slam of his hips into yours, teeth buried into your neck marking you down -the same marks are on your tits, but it won't be until the morning that you realise this.
Your face turns to his, lips smashing into his, tongues playing with each other as you feel him tense up, quickly filling you up with his cum, but his hips won't stop until you too reach the sweetness of extasis.
It doesn't take long, moaning into his mouth as you cum around him, both of you tired to move at all.
He drops your leg, but doesn't take his cock out from you.
"Por favor, ponte ese bikini todos los días" (please, put that bikini every day)
You smile, ass grinding once more back into him, but it won't be until the morning that he makes sure he gets his revenge, fucking you so hard you won't be able to walk.
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