#listen i love the twins so fucking much
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“The cosmos is within us. We are made of star-stuff. We are a way for the universe to know itself.”
i wanted to post them together :]
#genshin impact#the travelers#genshin lumine#genshin aether#genshin impact fanart#celestial twins#traveler twins#emberchii#listen i love the twins so fucking much#the sun and the moon.... ily both sm
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worst fucking post experiences is when i get that notification for the blocked tag 'plantcest' on my dash bc of course i have it blocked. & i have to b like "oh God this person i follow just reblogged this, what did they post..."
and then it's just. a normal fucking post about them as siblings. except the OP tagged it as the fucking incest ship name
genuinely, what is WRONG with you people????????????????????
#speculation nation#incest ment/#when i see this shit in my dash i look to have the assessment of whether i should fucking jump ship from the person i follow lmao#bc if they unknowingly reblogged a post about the brothers that doesnt have the stench of incest in it aside from in the tags#im not gonna fault them for that. shit can be easy to miss.#if they knowingly reblogged incest tho Uh Yea Buh Bye#when i see posts w/ this tag in the general tag i look just so i can block the OP lmfao. zero fucking hesitation.#like say what you will about ship and let ship or w/e. i hate this pairing so much it makes me see Red <3#listen the twins' relationship is so complex and interesting. i GET that. i Love analyzing it & i love seeing speculative shit#of if they were relatively normal siblings. etc etc etc#but specifically. AS. SIBLINGS.#what fucking incest goggles do you have to wear to see two brothers and want them to fuck? genuinely what is wrong with you?#im just. UGH it makes me so angry#it's so widespread too. no matter how many people i block im always jumpscared by this shit. ughhhhhhhhhhhh#making this unrebloggable bc i dont want to start fights. im just.#i will be very vocal about my hatred for this pairing on my tumblr dot com bc it is my tumblr dot com#and genuinely if you like them as a romantic pairing you shouldn't be here anyways.
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Things that I feel like would happen when you’re in a relationship with Simon Riley.
Simon Riley masterlist
1. First off he hates the word ‘boyfriend’.
Maybe it’s because he’s in his mid thirties or something but he can’t stand being called your boyfriend. He’s more than that but also not at the same time. You live together, have access to each other’s bank accounts (which is only because he hates it when you try to fight him about him giving you money), and you’re each others emergency contact. He thinks of himself as your husband. The man wears a silicone ring when he’s home and a necklace with the ring that’s totally not a wedding band when he’s working. Price has seen the chain once or twice and smirks, shooting him a knowing look but never says a word.
Simon cannot stand it when people get nosy and want to know what your relationship status is. You’re together and that’s all that matters. No one needs to know that you’re the beneficiary of his will and life insurance policy or that he’s put you on all of his accounts. No one needs to know that he buys you anything you want but has only ever bought you two rings; a thin gold band with a flower engraved on it and its twin a matching emerald ring. No one needs to know that when he gifted them to you, there were tears and promises of safety, love, and happiness whispered against feverish skin. No one needs to know that he has your name woven into his chest tattoo.
No one needs to know any of that because your relationship is between him and you only.
2. You are not some submissive little house wife. You are a strong independent woman and he prefers it that way.
I know this one goes against what most people say but hear me out on this. Simon has been independent since birth practically. He’s only had himself to count on for years. Even in the military, he’s only been able to rely himself. Sure the others watch out for him but if it came down to it, he’s the only one who’s going to get himself out alive.
The thought of someone else relying on him in that way is terrifying. He can’t even fathom what it would be like to look at another person and fully trust them in that way. Half the time he feels like he can’t even be trusted to take care of himself let alone another human. In theory a sweet docile housewife is great with the meals and clean house but not for him. He needs to know that you can hold your own. He needs to know that you can be independent and carry on without him if something happened while he was working. He needs to know that you will be okay if he doesn’t come back.
You have to be okay without him no matter how much it pains him to think about it.
Like I said before, he’s made you the beneficiary of everything so he knows you’ll be set financially but that’s not enough. He’s made Price promise to keep an eye out for you. He’s made you promise to let Price do that and you agreed because it’s Simon who’s asking but you’d tell anyone else to fuck off.
In addition to all of that, he’s installed the best security system the government has to offer in your house. You have a very expensive and large safe in your shared closet that he’s instructed you to only open if you feel unsafe. While you might not like it, you agree to go shooting with him so he can sleep at night knowing that you could protect yourself if he’s not home. He’s gone as far as to make sure you have all of the licenses and certificates that are needed to legally own firearms in the UK.
He’s not leaving any opportunity for you to be vulnerable or have your ‘safety checks’, as he calls them, taken away.
3. Simon Riley is a godless man…until he meets you.
Now this is entirely my own headcannon with no evidence to support it so bear with me.
Simon had a shitty childhood where his mom would pray to a god who never listened and his dad would shout verses at him when he was drunk. God was a mythical figure that he was told stories off with nothing to show for it. He did believe at one point but then his dad never got better, his mom wore bruises of every shade, and his brother found comfort in drugs.
He found himself praying when he was being tortured by the Mexican cartel. Between the flashbacks of his abusive past, he prayed to a god who had failed him so many times before to help him. He prayed again as he dug himself out of that Texas grave with the major’s jaw bone. He wailed his prayers when he found his family executed after Sparks tried to kill him.
After that he deemed himself a Godless man. Years of praying had passed with nothing. This god had decided that Simon was not worthy of a miracle so why would he continue to worship him?
That was until he met you. He finds himself praying before every mission, every time he has to leave you, every time he’s on his way home, and just about any other time he thinks of you. He doesn’t know what exactly he’s praying for other than for you to be there when he gets back.
He whispers his prayers to an absent god against your skin as he worships your body, soul, and heart. He promises to be devoted to you until his last breath and vows to find you again in whatever afterlife awaits you. He pledges to find solace in you and only you when his haunting nightmares return. He makes an oath to your heart that it will never weather another storm alone again for his will take whatever beating that comes your way. He shows you that he will love you in the same manner as a Hozier song; putting you above all else because you have become his religion, his faith, his beliefs, his life.
You have become all that he is and he thanks the god he once believed in for you. He prays again but to you, his heart, his love, and his beacon through the enteral storm of life.
#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x female reader#simon riley imagine#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley#ghost imagine#ghost call of duty#ghost x reader#ghost cod#ghost#ghost x female reader
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like i do | jjk
➥ pairing | jeon jungkook x f!reader
➥ word count | 3.2k
➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; dirty talk, pet names, mild praise kink, squirting, standing missionary, finger fucking, thigh riding, established relationship, angst w/ a happy ending, possessive!jk, jealous!jk, mentions of infidelity, trust issues
➥ summary | request - Jk being a jealous husband, angst and smuttttt 🥹💘
➥ notes | for lovely anon. hope you enjoy 💚 un-edited, i'll come back and fix any mistakes later. also poor jimin. i love him but i always seem to make him suffer lol.
💚 masterlist | inbox | AO3 💚
Eavesdropping.
Whether it was a stray conversation in a shop, or lurking around corners to see what others really thought of you, everyone’s done it at some point.
Now, it’s a habit Jungkook tries not to encourage - much preferring upfront interactions and direct conversations - but that isn’t to say he’s never eavesdropped before.
But the problem with listening in on conversations you’re not supposed to be is you run the risk of hearing something you wish you didn’t.
And while it wasn’t intentional by any means - he respects you too much to spy, even if the urge is there - he learns this lesson the hard way.
The first time it happens, he’s in the kitchen refilling his cup of iced coffee. There’s a squeal of surprise followed by a lighthearted giggle, the sound of shuffling limbs and a low grunt.
Everything in him freezes at the sound of your delight, gut churning.
He always works so damn hard to pull the laughter from the depths of your throat. And it stings that Jimin - his friend, his brother’s attempts are effortless.
It’s something so simple, and yet the effect it’s having on him is undeniable as Jungkook white-knuckles the handle of his mug and grits his teeth.
His jaw nearly cracks in two when he hears the softly murmured greeting, “It’s good to see you, baby.”
And Jungkook knows, okay.
He knows there’s nothing romantic between the two of you.
If anything, you’re too alike. Twin flames of the platonic variety. Not only would it never work out, but you both feel nothing but familial towards one another.
For fuck’s sake, Jimin was there when Jungkook proposed. Was the one to encourage it, in fact. Has been nothing but supportive about your relationship even when others disagreed.
However, knowing something doesn’t dampen the spark of jealousy.
Nor does it soothe the sharp flash of hurt threatening to steal the breath from his lungs.
Jimin has always been affectionate with you, and he’s always a touch too flirtatious. It’s a part of who he is, and it’s one Jungkook would never ask him to dim. Jimin spent far too long hiding, pretending, stifling himself for other’s comfort.
And Jungkook loves him as he is, encourages him to be his beautiful, authentic self no matter what. Expect maybe when it comes to his wife… for reasons he’s unwilling to examine.
All schoolyard flirtations aside, what bothers Jungkook most are the pet names. He can put aside his petty jealousy because he knows its unfounded.
What’s harder is dismissing the use of that little four-letter word: baby.
It’s supposed to be his way of telling you how much he loves you. Special, intimate. A stand-in for the four-word phrase he whispers into the silk of your skin, tattoos into your heart with his lips.
The realization he’s sharing a part of you he thought all his own sits bitter on the back of his tongue, an acid burn eating through his throat until he can’t find the words.
When you respond in kind with a soft, tender call a piece of him shrivels.
Standing in the kitchen adrift and lovelorn, Jungkook’s left with an empty longing he can’t name and no where to place it.
You weren’t together for more than six months before he proposed, knowing you were the one for him by the second date.
Maybe he moved too fast, was too receptive?
Growing up, he’d always been eager to move onto the next big thing, ready to jump head first. Some said that would come back to bite him in the ass. Was this the day?
Perhaps you regret saying yes so soon. Jungkook knows he’s not like other people. They need time to settle into their feelings like a house settling old wooden bones.
The last thing he wants is to make you feel trapped, suffocated under the weight of all his clingy, needy problems.
So he smothers the discomfort and walks into the living room. He shoots you a smile and inclines his head towards Jimin.
Thoroughly ignores the pulse of pain when he sees how cozy the two of you look cuddled up on the couch, legs tangled together with Bam at your feet.
That should be me.
You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him.
He can’t lose you.
It’s there he silently vows to be less intense, less attached. Does his best to keep his hands to himself even though he wants to reach across the space between your bodies, and tug you into the cradle of his chest.
Bam picks his head up, cocking his ear to the side when Jungkook winces as Jimin reaches out to tug a lock of your hair, smirking around another purred baby.
Thankfully no one else but the dog notices his moment of weakness or the tension cutting through his shoulders.
Staring at his reflection, Jungkook tucks a lock of hair behind his ear and fiddles with his tie. The three-piece fits like a glove yet he’s never felt more uncomfortable.
He longs for soft cotton and baggy loungewear but tonight is important.
It’s your first year anniversary.
He’s had this night planned out months in advance; pulled all the strings needed to secure a reservation at one of the best five-stars in Gangnam.
You’ve been looking forward to it all week, and your excitement is infectious.
Only Jungkook’s mood sours as soon as he turns the corner to find you on the couch with company, dolled up and radiant. Jimin’s beside you, one leg crossed over the other and swirling a half-empty wine glass.
He says something too low for Jungkook to hear.
“Jimin!” You titter behind your hand, the flash of the jewels on your nails catching the light. “Sto-op! You nasty little freak.”
“What’re you doing here?”
Jungkook doesn’t mean to snap but the inner turmoil spills over before he can shove it down.
Your eyes lose some of their softness, the happiness fizzling from your expression like champagne bubbles. Mouth pinching in at the corners, you narrow your eyes.
A lump grows in his throat.
“What’s got you so pissy, Kook?” you ask.
Jimin clears his throat, averting his gaze to the side as he mindlessly plays with the stem of the glass.
The frosty look Jungkook shoots him withers under your pointed glare. Shoulders sagging, he runs his fingers through his hair, unable to care about how much he’s fucking up the style.
“Sorry Jimin, I… ahem. Anyway, are you gonna be ready to go soon?”
“Mhm, just let me finish up here,” you trail off, motioning to the last few sips of your own wine. “We’ve still got some time before we have to leave anyway.”
Before Jungkook can respond, Jimin cuts in while twining an arm over your bare shoulders, cheek pressed sweetly to yours, “You can’t rush perfection, Kookie. Isn’t that right, pretty baby?”
It’s no surprise your anniversary ends in disaster; a fight so vicious it has you fleeing with an overnight bag, refusing to look at Jungkook let alone speak to him no matter how much he begs you to stay.
Leaving him alone in an apartment ringing with your absence, terrified this is the beginning of the end and thoroughly convinced he’s the worst fucking husband ever.
It’s been several days of radio silence.
No amount of texting or calling gets you to answer. And it’s starting to get to him, going out of his mind with worry, with guilt. If only he hadn’t said this, that, and the other.
If only you’d stayed.
Now, everywhere he turns, Jungkook’s forced to face the jealousy growning like a weed in his heart. And every day it gets worse; a stone crushing his lungs, a bottomless pit curdling his stomach.
He doesn’t know where you are exactly, but his suspicions are proven correct when he nearly busts down the door to Jimin’s apartment only to have you invite him inside, stony-faced and silent.
The quiet doesn’t last, broken by the awkward clearing of his throat as he avoids your stare.
“What are we even doing?” he asks.
Your eyebrows shoot towards your hairline.
There are bags under your eyes and heavy lines around your mouth. You look like you haven’t slept well. Jungkook’s gut clenches, bile bubbling up the back of his throat.
It’s all my fault.
“I’m not sure what you mean, Kook.”
“Please.” He refuses to acknowledge the plea for what it is. “I can’t - I can’t do this anymore.” His voice breaks, cracks in two, tears stopping up his tongue. “I need to know.”
Your eyes flash with confusion. “Baby?” You step closer, hand outstretched and shoulders relaxing. “What are you talking about?”
His intentions are pure, honest.
But months of simmering anger, of doubting everything about himself (again), of resenting the fact he resents you, resents Jimin at all, bubbles to the surface.
He’s not proud of it, but Jungkook explodes; a match set to gunpowder.
“I’m talking about you and Jimin!”
“Me,” you ask, blinking owlishly, “-- and Jimin?”
Jungkook smiles, sharp and unpleasant. Bitter and disappointed. Grief makes him mean, nasty. “Yeah, you and Jimin. Do you think I’m stupid - were you just gonna keep fucking around behind my back?”
“Woah, pump the breaks! What the hell are--”
“Don’t even try to deny it.”
His eyes glint like shards of black ice, cool and assessing as he stares at you. Numb to the concern in your gaze, the purse of your lips. He’s slipping - he knows he’s slipping. Can feel the grief stricken rage pressing in at the corners of his mind.
The last thing he wants to do is hurt you, and yet he’s helpless to stop the words pouring from his mouth. “Did you like watching me make a fool of myself?”
You sneer, arms crossed over your chest so hard it looks like it hurts, “You’re doing that all on your own, Jungkook. I think you need to leave.”
“No, no, come on. I want to know. Why did you marry me if you don’t even want me, huh?”
Stalking closer, Jungkook corners you against the counter.
The smooth glide of his body is reminiscent of a large jungle cat, purely predatory. The uncomfortable thrill of it reflects through your gaze, the clench of your thighs.
Dark satisfaction curls low in his belly.
He asks, “Did he fuck you better, make you scream his name?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about but you’re being a fucking pig,” you say, shoving his shoulder towards the door. “Now I really think it’s time for you to leave. Come back when you’re not being stupid.”
Strong fingers clamp down around your wrist, and Jungkook tugs you into his chest. His free arm curls around your waist, pinning you to his front. The heat of your body can’t drive away the sudden cold washing over him.
“Let go-”
“No.” He watches as any retort dies on your tongue, your eyes meeting his head on for the first time. Whatever you see hooks in, refusing to let go. “I’m not letting you go.”
Shivering, you try to tug your arm free, “Jungkook, please. You’re starting to scare me.”
In lieu of a response, Jungkook dips his head, and inhales the scent of your hair. Dragging his nose down the length of your neck as the familiar perfume floods his lungs. Soothes the prowling beast caged in his chest.
A rumble of satisfaction vibrates through him into you, your nipples stiffening against him.
Jungkook sighs, “You always smell so good, baby.”
The tension threaded through your frame releases, your edges softening until you rest against him fully. Shivers race down his spine when your breath tickles his ear.
You call to him softly.
He hums, nuzzling into the side of your head, “Mhm?”
“Can you let me go now? Promise I won’t go anywhere.”
Jungkook pulls back to look at you for several long seconds. Unlatching his fingers, he watches as you flex your wrist. Then reaches up to tenderly curl the digits around your throat, transfixed by the sight.
A hook of arousal sinks into his stomach.
Yanks hard when you gasp at the push of his thick thigh against your pussy, your whine when he flexes the muscle. With a soft cry, you sag into his body while your hands fly up to plant themselves on his biceps.
“K-Kook!”
“Mm, that’s it.”
The bubble of emotions boiling under the surface of his skin is at odds with the satisfaction coiling in his belly, the interested twitch of his cock.
Jungkook rolls his thigh and works you along the length of it. The heat of you burns through the cotton of his lounge pants, so warm and soft and wet.
"Don't--" your protest trails off, smothered by your teeth as your eyes flutter in pleasure. "Hn!"
Shit, he wants to bury himself so deep inside you’ll never forget the stretch. Ruin you so good with his cock you won’t dream of anyone else ever again. He’d make you his and his alone.
Fingers tightening around your neck, Jungkook murmurs, “Let me hear you, baby.”
Unsuccessfully trying to ignore how good the friction is, you shake your head in denial. But there’s no hiding how turned on you’re getting, panties sticky and thighs clamping around his.
You’re absolutely soaked, evidenced by the growing dark patch on his leg as he grinds you into a sloppy mess.
“W-We can’t, Jimin’s h-home.”
Mentioning the other man is a mistake, and you know that.
Jungkook sees the realization light up in your eyes seconds after he tenses, rutting up against you harshly. The bulge of his cock digs into the dip of your hip, throbbing in time with the labored heaves of his chest.
His kneecap catches, the sharp ridge smashing into your swollen clit. Your mouth drops open, and Jungkook slaps a hand over your face before the wail escapes.
He knows he’s being rough, but the tears in your eyes soothe some of the hurt. And honestly, he can’t bring himself to care overmuch, especially when your hips jerk against his.
“Better be quiet. We don’t want Jimin to hear us,” Jungkook snarls, “after all, what would he think if he saw how bad you’re gagging for your husband’s dick?”
Your indignant response is cut off by another muffled whine, his teeth sinking into the corner of your jaw.
A weak spot of yours - Jungkook abuses it to his advantage. Swiping his tongue through the layer of sweat that clings to your skin, the salt bursting across his tongue.
He groans.
“I don’t give a fuck what you or Jimin think.” His breath puffs warm and moist over your ear, voice whiskey rough when Jungkook says, “You married me. You’re mine, baby, and I don’t share.”
Relocating, his hand releases your throat and finds your hips. He slips under the mid-thigh hem of your oversized nightshirt, and snaps the waistband of your panties with a firm tug.
Pulling the fabric free from between your legs, he tucks the ruined fabric into his back pocket as a souvenir.
“K-Kook,” you say, voice warbling.
He hums, eyes glittering dangerously as his fingers brush over the top of your slit. Your clit jumps beneath the pad of his finger, swollen and throbbing.
When you hiss low between your teeth, he smirks, and bullies the little nub with rough circles until your hips shift from side to side.
“Ah, shit, baby. Can you hear how sloppy your pussy is?”
Jungkook dips his fingers between your folds, playing with your gummy walls as he gathers your slick, teasing the rim of your entrance. The filthy squelches echo out into the otherwise silent apartment.
He preens, chest puffing up with pride, and says, “He can’t make you feel the way I do. Can he?”
Without warning, he slides two fingers deep inside to the third knuckle. Chuckles when you burrow your face into his shoulder, your nails dragging raised lines of heat down his arms as your walls give, fluttering around his thick digits as you adjust to the stretch.
“Mm, you always take me so well, baby.”
You clench at the praise, and Jungkook pumps his fingers in reward, curling up to massage at the spongy patch of your g-spot. You whine, head tossed back and thighs shaking around his hand.
Pain shoots through the base of Jungkook’s spine, and biting back a curse, he reaches down to adjust his cock from where its trapped against you, swollen and leaking.
“Yeah, you’re such a good girl.”
“Please,” you whine before mumbling something else.
Jungkook’s not sure what it is, but figures it’s not all that important when your eyes roll back into your head and your hips twitch.
You start to bear down on his fingers, walls tensing and releasing.
“Gonna cum?” Jungkook nips at your bottom lip, panting into your mouth and sharing breath as his eyes bore into yours. “Fuck! Do it. Wanna feel you cum all over my hand.”
God, you look so good like this; eyes teary and brows crinkled, sweat-slick and mouth slack. A sight he never wants to be without. His sweet girl, his baby, his wife.
“Yeah, that’s it.” His fingers curl and pulse, pet and stretch. “Now open those pretty eyes.”
A hand curls around your jaw, tugs at your chin.
“Look at me,” Jungkook breathes.
Please.
He watches, greedy, as your lashes flutter, the lids weighted down by pleasure. Eventually, you manage to crack them open, and he ruts forward in response. His groan vibrates his lips as they smash into yours in a violent kiss.
You pull away with a gasp, slick dripping down your shaky knees. “I can’t - hnggg - fuck, Kook!”
“Tell me who you belong to.”
He’s unforgiving in his demands, a cold fire burning in the depths of his eyes. His cock throbs, his hips trembling with restraint as he stops himself from rutting to completion against you.
His heart hammers against his ribs, and his stomach swoops.
The answer will either make or break him.
Anticipation floods the room with tension; hovering in the air like a word about to be spoken.
“Tell me.”
“I -- you, Kook, I’ve always belonged to you,” you say, clenching down around him. “Please.”
Capturing you with his gaze, Jungkook hooks a thumb into the corner of your mouth. All the hurt, all the doubts, all the rage bleed out of him like water tossed over the embers of a campfire.
Leaving behind the single-minded desire to give you what you want. What you deserve. Because you’re his and the only thing he wants to do is take care of you.
Love you like you deserve to be.
Like only he knows how to.
The taste of your skin is sharp and bright when his tongue flicks against yours, and he hisses into the plush of your mouth, “Cum.”
Keening, your pussy throbs once, twice. Your belly contracts. And then you’re gushing wetly, a warm flood of slick soaking the palm of Jungkook’s hand, dripping down to puddle on the kitchen tile. Your walls ripple, muscles spasming as you shake apart in his arms.
Jungkook holds you through it, soothing the aftershocks as you slump into him - a marionette with its strings cut. You’re cotton soft, cloudy. Head lolling on his shoulder when you look up at his profile with hazy eyes.
“Show off,” you slur when you catch the sight of his satisfied smirk, the puff of his chest as he stares at something behind you. “Can’t believe you made me cum all over Jimin’s kitchen floor.”
The sound of a choked-off, slightly hysterical laugh comes from the entryway, “Oh, I can. Just glad to see you guys finally made up. Now I’m gonna go wash my eyes with bleach.”
#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jeon jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook x you#jungkook smut#jungkook fic#bts fic#bts fanfic#jungkook fanfic#bts jungkook#jungkook imagine
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drifting alone on a sea of four calendar cafe and lockdown 3.0 feelings
#i fucking love this album#it's so good#i listened to it so much from february '21 onwards#and it's basically just lockdown for me at this point#all the fanfic and work and everything else condensed into one album#it's beautiful#cocteau twins
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no way october's in a few days
#oh god i just want to stop time#bruh i'm making myself even more emotional rn by listening to songs i still memorize so well#how. tragic it is to be full of love and sadness#to be so curious but also be afraid of what awaits#days pass by so quickly. nights feel like a dream#n it feels like sometimes. even my own existence is stuck somewhere in between reality and fiction#but then in these quite serene moments#fuck i feel like crying#there's. apollo. my twin. across the room#my parents outside. in the other room. even w the music in my ears n the aircon that's still on. i can hear movements#it makes me smile. life goes on n the world changes but you're still here#n i'll hold unto that forever.#i don't know what to think or do or feel. there's too much.#if i were to give in to a selfish desire—i hope this would stay. regardless of what it changes to in the future. i really hope it'd stay#i don't understand why there's sm things in life i can't accept even though i know better#i don't know how to put it all in words but deep down i know#but how do i write it down? how do i put it into words? use my voice?#i wish i could just. understand the universe. everyone and everything in it#n express myself properly#instead of crying tears no one else but me would know when everyone's asleep#all the words and poems and songs i whisper to myself. drifting away to the silence of the night#maybe the moon knows. but maybe she forgets. she has phases as well#the limitless possibilities in life and the unpredictability of reality is something that hurts and aches so much but i love as well#deeper than any other book. far more engaging that any other game#and yet. it's so simple yet so complex#and. if i were to give in to a selfish desire#no. it's just the stories twisting my head. fictional stories#n i've always been a writer n a dreamer. these are also part of my imagination.#don't analyze how my fiction reflects on me#i'm the kind of writer that'd absorb emotions of others. i'll write stories made of inspiration that's not mine. you'll find nothing abt me
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Okkkk I am loving all the alastor with twins idea's 😍 💕 💖 could you do some headcannons where he takes the twins on day full of errands like going grocery shopping in cannibal town and a overlord meeting stuff like that
I'm just gonna add a new one here...
Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
✅️Parental
TW: Kids being chaotic, Babies biting, Alastor X Mom!Reader towards the end
Description: ☝️⬆️
Normally, Alastor avoids taking the twins out by himself, preferring to double team it with his wife
It's just so much easier with you by his side
But when his wife needs a day off or is too busy to go with him? It's full on dad mode for him
He talks to them the entire time as if the three of them are having a real conversation
"Which of these two do you think your mother will like more?"
"Baba!"
"You're right, obviously we need to try someplace else."
Takes the kids to visit Rosie and pick up some of his secret snack stash along the way
Rosie absolutely hogs the twins and keeps them in her lap for the entirety of the visit
She coos and fusses over them, allows them to wear her hat and chew on her limbs
"Alastor! Look at those chompers! You're gonna have some real trouble on your hands soon!"
If Alastor takes them to overlord meetings, then Rosie and Zestial will each hold a twin
Rosie is content to just ignore what's being said and snuggle with a baby, smell their fresh baby scent
Rosie that's creepy
Zestial likes to blow on their twitchy little ears just to listen to them growl and bleat at him
It's a game to them
The twins literally can't get enough of Zestial voice and the way he speaks, always just hypnotized when he opens his mouth
Carmilla is secretly dying inside to hold a baby but won't admit it until Alastor offers it up to her
She melts the moment a baby is in her arms, smiling and rubbing noses with the baby
Her daughters will absolutely beg to hold them though
Velvette is pissed because she can't take photos of the babies or even hold one, the last time she tried, she almost lost a finger to those teeth
Alastor loves how he can basically control how an overlord meeting goes just by bringing in his babies
He wants everyone off topic so that they don't look into something he doesn't want brought to light? Good day to bring the twins
If he's taking the twins for a walk, then he's definitely got those child leashes so that he doesn't lose his babies
It's also to keep them from going feral and biting people but nobody needs to know that
If they run into Vox, then he'll suddenly accidentally drop the leash just to watch his kids take Vox down
The TV head won't be getting up without a few bite marks on his screen, Alastor holding almost angelic looking twins in his arms
"My most sincere apologies, Vox! Teething has just been so hard on the twins..."
"Oh fuck you!"
"Ba!"
"Not you!"
Alastor is surprisingly patient and understanding when it comes to his children's needs
He's able to quickly figure out what they want and avoid a tantrum
"Are you hungry, dear one? Papa has just the thing for you~"
And if they do have a tantrum...he knows how to get ahold of his wife...
He'll take them to a park and play games with them just to tucker them out, he actually seems like a normal dad in those moments
Usually by the end of the day Alastor can tell that the twins are tired and missing their mom
He misses her too
Is so exhausted when he gets home and collapses in your arms, rubbing his face into your shoulder
"How was your day out~?"
"Pleasant, but it would've been better had you been with us, my dear~"
You can't help but smile as his arms wrap around you, and he pulls you in for a generous kiss
That's the only moment with you that he gets before the twins push between you two
"BA!"
I love these family asks so much
#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor hazbin hotel x reader#alastor hazbin x reader#alastor x reader#hazbin x reader
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HOW ABOUT THAT @somerandomdudelmao DISASTER TWIN REUNION, HUH
Went a little feral to the tune of 2.2K words of self-indulgence. What else is new?
~~~~~~~
Donnie can't sleep. More accurately, he won't sleep. Not until he's done. He'd never been one to leave a project unfinished; death and resurrection hadn't changed that.
He taps incessantly, repetitively, on a keyboard and screen, the motions long since past inputting data and now only serving to keep him awake. The repetition is soothing, easy, and - counterintuitively - he finds his head drooping forward into sleep-
And he snaps back upright. No. Not until he can confirm Leo is okay.
Leo is behind him, he knows. Breathing. In bed. Asleep. Very much alive. And-
He jumps and whips around as a thud sounds behind him. "What the-"
Leo is on the floor.
Well, that answers the question as to whether his twin is awake.
For a fraction of a second, part of him wavers uncertainly. He loves his idiot twin. The question he hasn't been able to answer is whether his reaction to Leo waking up will fall on love or idiot twin-
"Leo!"
He can hear the exasperation in his voice, and yep, it's the latter. He takes a knee next to Leo and hauls him into his arms, lecturing him all the while, and if he can hear the annoyance in his voice then Leo sure as hell can. Sleep deprivation for the purposes of keeping his brother's soul alight had done nothing for his temper. "I swear to God, all you had to do was make a sound! Why are you such a difficult patient?"
He deposits Leo carefully on the bed - "Sit still!" - and checks him over, running every scan he can think of and making sure his brother's new body really is in good working order, spouting increasingly irritated commentary all the while. Of course the fall didn't hurt him - Leo is tougher than that, and Donnie does better work than that - but he still can't help the rising anxiety in his throat.
This almost didn't happen.
"-stupid, stupid selfless idiot!"
Donnie almost couldn't save him.
"Grrhh-"
Leo nearly died for real. Permanently beyond Donnie's reach. Well and truly gone-
"Do you have any idea how close you were to having nothing left to save?"
And now here Leo is, in perfect health, sitting on Donnie's bed with a big dopey grin on his face as Donnie chokes on his anxiety and damn near shakes himself apart-
Oh for fuck's sake.
"Hey. Are you even listening?"
Leo speaks up for the first time since he's woken up, voice shaky from disuse. "D-Donnie?"
And that is not a goddamn answer to anything Donnie has been saying, because of course it isn't. It's Leo. He's always had his own priorities. "Yeah. No. You're not fucking listening." Donnie heaves a long-suffering sigh, sinking back into the routine comfort that irritation at his twin provides. "At least you're talking." Small favors. "Although I'm surprised you're not throwing your stupid jokes at me." Even smaller favors.
He stops short as Leo's hand closes around his wrist, drawing Donnie's arm to Leo's plastron. "You're real," his brother breathes, looking from Donnie's hand to Donnie himself with tears streaming down his face. "You're real!"
And then, in the space of a thought, Leo's joy breaks, his smile turning desperate. "Are you?"
For a moment, Donnie stares at his twin, wondering at the sudden change in expression. He takes a breath-
And the part of him that had lain dormant for so long after he'd woken up - the part of him that had been screaming for his twin's safety ever since they'd recovered the few scattered embers of Leo's soul - gasps to life, blooming like a time-lapse video of a flower and reaching to the edges of Donnie's soul. Leo had called it their twin sense, and Donnie hadn't had it in him to argue after a while. Whatever it is, it's back, connected to Leo's renewed presence, and-
Donnie's heart floods with emotions. Relief and joy sprout quickly and are nearly swept away in a tide of exhaustionanxietyfearfearfearfearFEAR-
But down beneath it all, steady against the rising wall of terror, is the little blue spark of hope that his brother always carried. His core. The thing that let him continue on in the face of insurmountable odds, and lent that same strength to everyone around him. A ninja's greatest weapon.
It's Leo. It's Leo-
And Donnie can't leave him alone in his fear. Not when there's no need for it. Not when they're safe.
He lets that breath out, and sits next to Leo on the bed. "Mhm. I'm alive. And you're alive. We're safe. The Krang are gone." That's all the news that's fit to print, or at least the most important parts. What else does he have to say?
Oh.
"I'm sorry I..uh…"
He's sorry he what? Died? Left a mess for Leo to deal with? Didn't do enough while he was alive to keep everyone else alive in turn after he was gone? Kept his brother's soul in a fucking mug, because that was the only way he could ensure he wouldn't break it while Leo was still fragile? All of the above?
…yeah, it's all of the above.
He owes Leo one hell of an apology, and he's never been good at any of this, so instead he shrugs haplessly and leans forward, pulling Leo into his arms and hanging on tight.
It's a matter of moments before Leo has him flat on his shell on the bed and is sobbing into his arms. Normally he'd hate seeing his twin cry, but it's proof of life - proof that Leo made it, that his soul is intact enough for him to still be Leo, that he's alive and awake and here - and Donnie will take it.
And if he's squeezing Leo back pretty hard himself, well, that's fine too. Nobody else needs to know.
~~~~~~~
Donnie is yelling at him.
Donnie is strong enough to have picked Leo up off the ground, well enough to be on his feet without support, running tests and reading Leo the riot act over his latest boneheaded maneuver - in this case, forgetting he was missing an arm and falling out of bed.
Donnie is yelling at him, because Donnie is here to yell at him.
And Leo is smiling, because he couldn't be happier. He lets the words wash over him, draping over his shoulders like a favorite cozy blanket that he'd lost so many years ago, and he basks in the warmth that is his brother's voice and smiles.
It's enough to interrupt the yelling for a question, though he doesn't really hear it - just keeps smiling, and says Donnie's name, and it's so nice to be able to say it with a smile now, because Donnie is here-
-he is, right? This isn't just a dying hallucination on Leo's part, right?
(It couldn't be- he remembers his death, remembers breathing his last, remembers being trapped- but this-)
He reaches out, taking Donnie's wrist in hand, and pulls his brother closer to him. "You're…real…" It certainly feels real - skin and scales, softer than his own, and his fingers barely fit all the way around the wrist instead of encircling them with room to spare - and he stares down at it, tears rolling down his face as he finally looks back up at his twin. "You're real!"
The Krang show you what you want to see.
The thought strikes him unbidden, turning his joy and relief to ice. It's a well-known fact: a Krang infection can show its host what they want to see, visions of comfort and family and home, and extract intel from the host's reactions. He knows that- he knows that, and-
And he'd died surrounded by Krang- and even if he couldn't see or hear or feel, he knows he'd been held captive-
But it's Donnie- he wants this to be real- he needs this to be real- he wants his twin back so badly he can't think, and the idea that this could be a Krang hallucination is almost too much to bear-
"Are you?" He can hear how choked the words are as they leave his lips, but he needs to know-
And Donnie stops, and sits down next to him, and tells him everything he wants to hear - everything he could've ever wished for. They're alive. They're safe. The Krang are gone. It all sounds too good to be true.
And then Donnie offers him an apology and a sad half-smile, pulling him into a strong hug-
And the ice in Leo's mind shatters in a flood of warmth as his twin sense opens for the first time since Donnie's death. He feels his twin's irritation, and deep-seated exhaustion, and a choking wave of guiltguiltguiltguiltguilt-
And beneath it all, steady and strong as ever, the thrum of unending determination, powered by an unfathomably deep well of love. It's the backbeat to the melody of Leo's life, the point-counterpoint to his own heartbeat- it's something he'd never had to live without until he did, but it's back, rushing in to fill the silence he'd known with the strength to go on and the knowledge that he is loved loved loved, strong and overwhelming and all-encompassing in the way only Donnie can love-
It's something the Krang could never imitate.
This is real. This is all real-
He throws himself against his twin, toppling them both over on the bed as he clings to Donnie, unable to stand even a fraction of an inch of space between them, as though he could push their hearts together through their plastrons, and he cries, sobbing out worry and terror and grief and the slow, crushing exhaustion of a losing battle finally lost. He cries as though the world was ending - and it had, once when the Krang had invaded and again every time he'd lost a member of his family, over and over until he'd sent his last hope through a portal that had cost his littlest brother his life and succumbed to death himself.
And now he's alive. Here, wherever here is, with Donnie. Clinging to his twin, and being held in turn as Donnie gently sits them both up, never letting go as Leo cries himself out.
It takes a while - long enough for Leo's gaze to settle into a stare and his thoughts to settle into a comfortable static. He's alive, Donnie is alive, and he has no fucking idea what else is going on, but he's just going to be okay with that for now.
His thoughts rouse enough to inform him of something wrong - the line of tension Donnie is carrying down his neck and over his shoulders. That won't do. Leo could try to massage it out with one hand, maybe try to get Donnie to talk about it, but Donnie never likes to talk about it, and Leo isn't one for slowly soothing away tension when he can just take an axe to the release valve instead. Plus, it gives him something definite to focus on, instead of…this whole situation. Whatever 'this whole situation' actually is.
Donnie had mentioned his stupid jokes, right?
"H-hey Dee?" His voice wavers from disuse, thick with tears, but he pushes through. "Why did- why did the tree buy a camera?"
"What?" Oh, Donnie is not going to see this coming. Excellent.
"To do a photosynthesis." It's nowhere near the level of pizazz he normally uses for a punchline delivery - he's still too tired and frazzled and clinging to Donnie entirely too hard for that - but that beautiful pause of a terrible joke sinking in tells him it had hit home nonetheless. Donnie moves - he can hear the telltale slap of face meeting palm - and then breaks down into helpless laughter, smacking the back of Leo's shell as the tension Leo had felt in his twin's shoulders abruptly relaxes. Good. It worked.
"This is so fucking stupid," is all Donnie manages as his laughter fades, and he slumps fully against Leo with a murmur. That's...abrupt. Sure, Leo had felt Donnie's exhaustion, but he hadn't realized it'd been that bad. He takes hold of Donnie, gently laying him down on the bed to rest-
Remember what happened last time Donnie fell asleep next to you.
He gasps sharply at the thought - not again NEVER again - and keeps his hand steady as he moves, laying both fingers gently against Donnie's neck and feeling for his pulse. It's easy to find, strong and steady and even, like it had been before the infection had taken Donnie's vitality and then his life.
But he's alive, and healthy, and sleeping. He's okay. And Leo-
Leo moves his hand to the side of his own neck. His pulse is also easy to find, quickened with the adrenaline of an unknown situation and multiple consecutive shocks to his system.
Okay. Take stock. Assess. Figure out a plan from there.
He's alive. Donnie's alive. The Krang are gone. And everything else…is a big fat question mark, with no easy answers and no indication as to where to begin looking for them.
Well.
Uh.
"What the fuck," Leo whispers to the room at large, as though the walls could answer.
~~~~~~~
(A world away and still very close, a younger pair of twins cling to one another the way a drowning man clings to driftwood: desperately, clutching tight, as though letting go will spell their doom. Neither of them know where the emotions came from, or why; all they know is that each of them are damn glad the other is alive, and they'll do everything they can to make sure that continues to be the case.)
(What the fuck, indeed.)
#rottmnt#cass apocalyptic series#future leo#future donnie#fic#writing#cw sibling death#mention of it at least#referencing the scrapped movie storyboards because it's too good a beat to pass up#we have fun here#no gods no betas we die like NOBODY BECAUSE DONNIE FUCKING FIXED IT#I GUESS#twin sense shit is my FUCKING JAM#inexplicable mystic bonds between two halves of a whole? sign me the FUCK up#I couldn't decide whose POV to write this from so I just did both#which is WHY it's 2K+ words#it's not perfect but it's Good Enough and therefore it's getting posted#fuck it we ball
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Double Trouble
Dad Series
Toji Fushiguro
Warnings: Pure Fluff
Discord 18+ - Twitter - Ko-Fi
Leaving Megumi alone with the twins was a horrible horrible idea. The older brother knows better than anyone that the twins get nightmares, yet when Megumi got the opportunity, he put on the scariest movie he could find; he didn’t do it because he wanted to scare the twins, in fact, he didn’t intend for them to see the movie… Yuuji just kept recommending the movie and Megumi couldn’t put it on while his parents were home so he did the next best thing–
Convinced his parents he could handle two three year olds (took weeks since you weren’t sure it was a smart idea, although Toji was extremely persuaded), convinced them to go on a date, and then when he thought the twins were finally asleep, he put on the movie. Megumi just never noticed the twins on the floor, watching every single second of the movie.
In the end, Toji is the one that has to deal with it. A night light in the twins’ room isn’t enough. He has to sleep on a sleeping bag on the twins’ bedroom floor. While Toji insisted that the twins could sleep with the two of you in your bed, but you told him that they kick you in your sleep and there’s no space for the four of you. Since Toji was the one that ultimately convinced you that Megumi could handle the twins, he’s the one that pays for the consequences.
“Koemi!” Kisho tries to whisper to his sister, but it’s more of a yell. Toji can’t sleep in the uncomfortable sleeping bag, and he’s thinking of yelling at the twin to go to sleep, but Toji is so fucking bored that he wants to listen in.
“What?” Koemi responds, a bit annoyed because unlike her brother, she’s trying to sleep.
“I’m scared.” Kisho says, and when Toji’s about to speak up, Koemi answers before him,
“Daddy’s here.” Koemi reminds her twin, and it brings a smile to Toji’s lips. Toji never really got to feel like that with his own parents so it’s nice to know that his kids trust him enough. Daddy will protect them. And Toji will, he’d give up his life for them. Kisho gets off his bed and goes to the sleeping bag, cuddling up to his father. It doesn’t take long for Koemi to join.
Toji hugs them and kisses the top of their heads. Maybe he should thank Megumi for this and call him over to join in, but he isn’t going to yell so late in the night.
“I love you so much.” They’re not words that usually leave Toji’s lips, but he wants to be different from his family. He wants to express his love for them as much as he can.
“Why are you awake, daddy?” Kisho asks, making Toji chuckle. Toji responds,
“Why are you awake, Kisho?”
#[dad series]#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#toji fushiguro#jujutsu toji#toji zenin#dilf toji#fushiguro toji#toji fushiguro x you#daddy toji#toji imagine#dad toji#jujutsu kaisen toji#jujutsu kaisen x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#toji x y/n#jjk toji#toji fluff#toji x reader
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guys listen listen listen im going insane about the artist attention to detail with their designs holy fucking shit man look at them look at them they genuinely look like fraternal twins and the children of their parents in actual character structure, not just colors holy fucking Shit.
Emizel has Jeffrey's hair color on top but the Queen's hair color closer to the roots where his undercut is. Emizel also has Jeffery's eye shape and the Queen's eyebrow shape!! He has the Queen's cheek bone and jaw shape but Jeffery's chin shape, and he also has Jeffery's overall mouth shape with the stern flat line.
Shilo has the Queen's eye shape and Jeffery's eyebrow shape. He has the Queen's cheekbone and chin shape, but Jeffery's jaw shape. He also has the Queen's overall mouth shape, with the little bow in the center. ALSO!! VERY TINY DETAIL!! but where the light hits jefferys hair and eyebrow in the upper left, its the same golden shade as shilos hair!!
and then on both of them, they both have the same nose, with the Queen's bridge shape but the fathers nose tip shape.
You thought it ends there? No Sir!!!! Even their body structures match!!! Emizel has the Queen's body structure with wider shoulders and hips and narrower waist in a general hourglass silhouette structure, while Shilo has Jeffery's general body shape with the broader/rounder chest and straighter narrower hips providing more power and definition to the upper body
Anyway, to the artist - you did a fantastic job I love them Dearly so so much,, if im Correct in these observations that so fucking cool of you incredible skills there im devouring it,, if im Not Correct then my apologies im simply utterly insane about this show and their designs and im searching for enrichment
#dragons chatting#jrwi the suckening#jrwi#just roll with it#jrwi emizel#jrwi shilo#jrwi the queen#jrwi jeffery#character design analysis is sooooo fun
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did you ever did a part 2 to jjk dudes meeting their child who’s from the future?
⋆｡Part || of JJK MEN meeting their future kids｡⋆
Author's notes: I don't think I've posted it! Considering it kind of left my mind and the old draft is gone, but I did write everything I remember here. Also, it's like 3am and I wrote this crying, not proofread.
CW: Swearing, killing, cannibalism(?) like mention of eating people, children.
Pronouns used for the kids: She/her for Geto and It/its for Sukuna.
Part | (Warning, it's from 2021)
Geto
Starting off strong with Geto.
Definitely another girl. He's such a girl dad.
On a regularly scheduled day like always; it was wake up, talk with his connections, mingle with his family, check on Mimi and Nana, see whatever the hell the non-sorcerers wanted, get greeted by a little girl that wasn't supposed to be on the estate...
What the fuck.
How did she even get here? Why is she here?
Geto would stare at this child in confusion and look around, waiting for someone to claim her.
He has a soft spot for children. Sorcerers, of course. Non-sorcerers, debatable.
So, low and behold this little girl running up to him to clutch at his robes. Him trying to pry her off of him with her relieved cries of "Papa! Papa!" escaping her lips.
Papa?
Holds her by the shirt's scruff like a cat and squints, ready to scold her but pauses when he sees her face.
Because, holy shit, that's literally his twin. And suddenly every rare hookup played in his mind.
But no, she looked no older than 3. He hadn't been with anyone at that time, or ever yet. Not that far.
Drops everything for the next couple of days just to make sense of the situation, only telling his beloved family.
Mimi and Nana fawn over the idea of a little sister but are a bit restrictive if it's not a permanent thing.
The girl didn't speak much except for addressing Geto, the twins, oh and you.
You...?
You.
You.
You, who had just returned from your trip overseas to oversee some tasks involving curses.
You, who the little girl immediately ran to and called "Mama! Mama!"
You, who Geto stared wide-eyed at and surprised as you two tried to settle the fact nothing even happened between you.
Yet.
When that little girl eventually left to her own time, with everything still fresh and confusing, Geto eventually approached you.
Because, well, he wanted to see that little girl again.
After few dates, then a relationship, then marriage. Maybe.
Sukuna
Listen, he is NOT spreading those cursed genes of his pre-human/post-cursed-spirit.
Man hates love.
But, during the Heian period. When some stupid kid wandered into his life as if it always belonged there, maybe, maybe, there was something else in that space in his chest but hunger and his definition of love.
So, there it was. Whatever it was. Standing there with large eyes focused on him with a semblance of admiration and malice.
"What are you looking at, brat?"
"You."
The audacity of this thing. He killed it immediately.
And then it came back. So, he killed it again. And again. And... what the fuck.
This little shit was persistent.
His kid. He doesn't know how. But definitely his kid.
A worthy successor? Fuck no, he's not dying or leaving it as some birthright to a hindrance.
Learning of its origins was pretty interesting, to say the least.
"Not a human? I figured. A curse made from me, huh? Someone weak must hate me so much."
That meant a human parent. Or multiple human parents. Gross.
He wasn't getting into that.
The kid was though.
It often visited this village to... eat? Kill? Fight? Whatever makes it happy.
...
The hell do you mean it was visiting its human mother?
It had a mother? It had a mother that cursed him so much it resulted in a personalized cursed child?
He could see it stare longingly at that woman's village and before he could even kill her, his offspring said goodbye.
"I'll see you in the future, yeah?"
And then Sukuna was sealed.
He probably searched for his offspring in the Modern era.
Author's notes 2: Stopping with these two because it's been a while since I've posted seriously on this account, 2 years? Maybe I've gotten better, maybe not. This was the idea but with updated better minds. Maybe I'll do the others separately again, Yuji, Yuta, Megumi, Toge. Just did the adults first. Doing Choso and Higuruma definitely.
#Jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen headcanons#geto x reader#Geto suguru x reader#sukuna x reader#true form sukuna#ryomen sukuna x reader#jjk imagines#jjk headcanons#jjk scenarios#not fluff but something weird def#Girl dad Geto agenda#Sukuna being a shitty dad#New formats i thijk#its been a while forgive me#ill try and answer old asks ive got like 3#Jjk spoilers? maybe i did something#also the Sukuna portion felt self-indulgent bc it is im sorry yall i got a little curse daughter for him haven't seen the idea of it here#so I thought heee shares here#jjk men#jjk boys soon#jjk x y/n
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Babies on the Brain
George Weasley x reader
Requested by @hahahafucku
Request gist: smut where George sees you holding Fred baby and he feels the need to give you one of his own.
A/N: thanks for the request. I carried on Fred and Angelina’s romance (Freds not dying in my world and George is ending up with the reader instead). I've never been good at writing for breeding kinks (I say like I'm good at writing other things) so I'm sorry if it sounds cliche or cringy or if it's just downright terrible. I don't know if I went a bit overboard on the before smut stuff.
T/W: unprotected sex, soft dom George, breeding kink, praise, kitchen counter sex, ginger baby (jk)
You and George had met in your first year of Hogwarts but your slow build up to a couple started after your fourth year. You had known him for years. His parents loved you, his siblings loved you, and he adored you. You loved his family, from his caring mum, to his mischievous twin, and finally his young sister (who was thrilled to have another girl in the family).
Speaking of George's mischievous twin, you couldn't believe the news when you heard that he was going to be a father. This was a boy who (with his twin) had set a firework dragon on a ministry of magic worker, had stolen a flying car, and had tested joke shop products on first year students back in Hogwarts. He was going to be a brilliant dad.
Those months went by with you and George helping Fred and Angelina with anything they needed, from trips to St Mungos to shopping for baby accessories. Throughout this time, George began to keep a closer eye on you. He’d zone out when you recommended baby grows to get his future niece or nephew or when you’d buy baby products so that the expecting parents were prepared.
A week after Angelina gave birth, she and Fred brought the little one round to meet the family. A little boy who already shared the Weasleys trademark fiery hair. Angelina passed him to you, letting you hold the baby whilst she went for a well deserved rest (Molly had persisted that she looked tired and could take a nap in Fred’s old room). You bounced the little baby in your arms, unaware of your boyfriend watching you from the doorway.
He didn't want to admit it, but seeing you with a baby in your arms made him weak in the knees. He wanted it to always be like this. He wanted the baby in your arms to be his. He'd always thought about having kids with you someday, but this was a wake up call. And the call was answered by that voice inside of him, telling him to make you his and only his.
————————————————————————
Once you got home to the small house that you and George shared, you went to the kitchen to get a glass of water. All you had been talking about all afternoon was how adorable Fred’s baby was with his tiny button nose and little toes. George stalked up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, his face immediately going to the crook of your neck to press soft kisses to the skin.
“You’d make such a perfect mum to our kids”.
His words made you freeze. At first, you didn't think you’d heard him correctly, since his face was still tucked into your neck. But he made sure that you would listen.
“I bet you’d look so beautiful carrying our baby. So full and swollen…so full because of me”.
At this point, he was slowly rocking his hips against your ass. His cock slowly got harder while he left kisses along your collarbone. Small breathy moans slipped past your lips, his words and grinding getting you wetter by the second. You pushed your hips back against his, wanting nothing more than for George to take the hint and fuck you into the countertop. His hand splayed across your stomach through your clothes, muttering a soft “Want me in here, sweetheart?”. Your small whimper and frantic nodding had him smiling to himself. He wanted you to admit that you wanted this, he needed you to admit that you wanted him to do this.
“Need you to tell me what you want, love. Tell me how much you want to be full of my cum”. His breath on the shell of your ear caused you to shiver and turn your head as much as you could to look him in the eye. “Please George, fuck me. Fill me up. I want to be full”. Once he made you beg, he pulled your dress up and pulled your underwear to the side, knowing that it would take too long to pull them off. George pushed his trousers and boxers down, before pushing into you with one thrust that knocked the air from your lungs. His pace was quick and desperate from the moment he was inside of you. His cock felt amazing. You had both had sex without protection before but it felt somehow better when you didn't have to worry or take precautions. Your moans were sultry and erotic, and George swore that he had never heard a prettier sound (apart from the sound of his hips slapping against the plush of your ass).
His hand trailed its way down to tease and play with your clit, wanting to make you cum first. He had always insisted on cumming after you. His mouth was next to your ear in a second, his voice dripping with lust. “That's it sweetheart, milk my cock like a good girl. Show me how much you want me to cum deep inside you. Cum for me and I’ll stuff you so full of my cum that you’ll be carrying twins”. His thrusts got sloppier but his small circles on your clit got more determined. All it took was one final thrust to have you cumming around his cock, your walls clenching tighter than before. George's hold on you got tighter as his cum flooded your insides, not a drop going to waste.
After you had both caught your breaths and calmed down, he pulled his cock out. Pulling your underwear to its correct spot before whispering in your ear “Keep it all in there love, I’ll check tonight and if even a drop is gone, I’ll just have to fill you up again”
#george weasley fic#george weasley#george weasley x you#george wealsey x reader#george weasley smut#george weasley x fem#george weasley x y/n
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Hyuck hard hours weeeee ft. smoking cigarettes and eating edibles because fuck SM
Stoner!Hyuck x Stoner fem!reader
warnings: Hyuck has daddy issues (we're twins weeeee 🤗), fem receiving oral sex, light praise and dirty talk, Hyuckie smokes, fuck sm, there's weed, I'm obsessed with Hyuck's lil facial hair, fuck sm, they're in love, hyuck has an oppa kink, like I really hate how that concept wouldn't fuck off but yeah it's there and I'm not really sure how to feel about it
"I think I bought the wrong ones... this is not working," Hyuck mutters as he examines the packaging closely; quirking his lip up in annoyance, he picks up his phone and opens the camera so he can scan the QR code on the back of the packaging for its authenticity.
"Okay, I didn't so what the fuck is the problem with these?"
"Hyuck, it's only been five minutes. You do this every single time. Just wait, okay?" You laugh. He frowns and turns to look at you. You both just stare at each other.
"Y'know what's crazy?" he asks peevishly as he stick a cigarette between his lips and reaches for the lighter on the coffee table. After lighting his cigarette, he takes a pull from it and blows the smoke into the air slowly.
It's starting. The random guilt ramble.
"What, Hyuckie?" You sigh.
"Parent privilege is crazy to me... my dad used to always talk about how good I had it but honestly I think he had it better because he got away with shit I'd slap a bitch in the street for saying to me which pretty much cancels out the poor impulse shit he kept dumping on me. If my impulse control was that bad, how come he never got his shit rocked?... I wanna call him... maybe tell him I already arraigned his funeral and now I'm just waiting for the good news," he rambles.
Hyuckie hasn't spoken to his dad in years. He acts like he's okay with it but you know it hurts him and every time he gets high, you know he's going to say some random thing about it and you know he's only ever this vulnerable when he's drunk, high, or about to be one or the other.
"Don't call him, Hyuck," You tell him softly.
"Let's go out?" he whispers as he gets to his feet, "I wanna drive down to the pier and listen to music."
"You can't drive while you're high," You hiss as you get up to follow him out of the room. "I'm not high yet. We'll just drive down to the pier and hang out then we can sleep it off at the hotel that just opened right over there," Hyuck says as he gets a small bag and tosses some overnight essentials into it.
You shrug, "Okay sounds fun."
On the way, Hyuck stops off to get a pizza pie before continuing on the way. The ride is accompanied by an opera playlist you both randomly became fixated on a few days ago and Hyuck is on his second cigarette. It hangs from his lips and he occasionally holds it out the window to drop the ash from the other end. It's a bad habit of his but he knows you think it's sexy.
When you arrive, Hyuck parks in a dark corner of the lot along the water and cuts the engine, "Okay, my cock isn't gonna jerk itself off," he sighs as he leans his seat back. You know he's definitely beginning to feel it and you're relieved to know you made it here before this moment occurred.
"Can you at least be romantic first?" You sigh as you turn to hold his gaze.
"You're right. I should put the top down and you should take your top off so I can suck your tits while you look up at the stars... maybe I should eat your pussy out instead," he says softly as he presses the button to put the top down on the car; the warm night air dances over your skin and he reaches out to unbuckle your seat belt, "Imagine that? Being high while you stargaze with my face between your legs? It probably feels like you're in outer space when you cum."
You reach across to palm his cock through his khaki pants and he moans, "You're gonna blow me first? Are you sure? I'll eat you out first, Y/n, it's okay."
You shake your head and open his pants, "No, it's okay. I've been wanting to suck your dick all day," You hum as you shift uncomfortably. Hyuck pushes your hand away, "Let's fix the seats. If we do it now, we won't have to stop and do it later."
You both push your seats as far back as they'll go and Hyuck reaches across to pull your shirt up to expose your breasts to him, nipples perked up from arousal. Hyuck leans over and sucks your left nipple into his mouth. You gasp and he chuckles as you push your chest up a little more.
"That's a good girl," he encourages you before moving over to your side. He drops down in front of you and looks up at you slyly, "I'm going first- watch the stars," he says as he begins shoving up your skirt so he can clumsily get your panties off. You look up at the night sky and admire the stars for a moment as you wait for his next move. After getting you situated in an easier position, you feel his tongue press flat against your cunt and slowly drag its way up. You moan and reach down to tug at his hair. He sucks your clit into his mouth loudly before teasing the soft bundle of nerves with playful flicks of his tongue.
"Hyuck... fuck, yeah, baby. Oh God, yes... Just like that... just like... Hyuckie," You pant softly. The stars dot the black of the night and twinkle dreamily as you feel your body beginning to tremble.
He chuckles as he continues lapping and sucking at your clit; hands squeezing your hips to keep you in place as the soft stubble on his face scratches softly at your inner thighs. The stars look as if you could reach out and touch them and you try to; one hand releasing its clutch on Hyuck's hair to stupidly reach out for a soft orange star that stands out among the rest. Hyuckie laughs harder and licks at your soaked entrance.
He pulls away for a moment and swats your thigh, "Look at me," he says softly. You tear your eyes away from the orange star and look down at him. He stares back at you; eyes wild. hair tussled, and his lips pink, puffy, and wet with your arousal. You hold his gaze as he presses a kiss to your mound, "Call me oppa."
"Fuck no," You spit out peevishly. He holds you a little firmer, "Come on... You know you want to. You don't mind calling me oppa when my grandma's around," he whispers.
"That's different," You moan as goes back to licking and suck in your cunt but much slower.
"Yeah? And how is that?" he says between soft strokes against your clit.
"I'm just... I- I'm just- I-"
"I'm just, I'm just, I'm just... spit it out."
"I'm just... being... respectful..."
"Then be respectful right now and do what I said. "
His eyes burn into yours and you swallow thickly. The sound of the ocean waves crashing against the pier mingle with Il Divo's Caruso on the car speakers and you squirm, "Turn this off. I don't wanna cum to an opera song, Hyuck... It's weird."
"It's scratching my brain. Just relax, I promise it's gonna be different," Hyuck says as he peppers kisses over your thighs.
"You'd know this how?" You ask him softly, annoyed that this dialogue is happening but now oddly engaged.
"I was listening to this song the other day while you were at work and I was doing the laundry and well... your panties- the sapphire ones with the lace embroidery were kinda just there and-"
"You jerked off because of my panties?"
"I jerked off with your panties... the song was just a nice topper."
You snort and shake your head, "That is very on brand for you."
Hyuck shrugs blandly, "I have a hot girlfriend and I'm in love. I am not embarrassed."
You smile and touch his face, "If you weren't so good to me, I don't know what I'd do," You sigh dreamily. Hyuck shrugs again, this time smugly, "It's easy... nothin' to it," he whispers before pressing his mouth back to your throbbing cunt. He sucks on your clit lazily and you look back up at the sky.
He stops again and you look back down at him. He gazes back at you expectantly.
"Hyuck, please."
"Call me oppa and I'll eat your pussy until you're so far gone that you'll think I really did send you to the stars. I promise."
#neoculturecollectives#kvanity#k-lables#nct smut#kpop smut#nct 127 smut#haechan smut#nct dream smut#donghyuck smut#kpop smut for black girls#nct x black!reader#ambw kpop#kpop ambw#nct#haechan#haechan x reader
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Ex-O-Ex-O
GN!MC x Yandere Ex! Solomon
TW: Dub-con, Voyeurism, Exhibitionism, Manipulation, Bondage
Solomon
You always knew he had an mean streak - especially when it came to anyone who threatened your safety. He only let you around the brothers because they seemed to make you happy.
But the day you came home with an injured arm and an apologetic pair of twins - he was internally livid. With a mysterious turn of events the same two brothers fell in a freak accident and fractured the same arm as yours. And of course you weren't allowed to tend to them, not while you were still hurt.
Lucifer screamed at you for wanting to go home early, and ended up with a cursed bottle of demonus that rendered him mute for a week. When they made you overwork, Diavolo got swamped with literally endless paperwork and Barbatos ended up with rats in his room. Harmless jokes that turned extreme soon enough.
He was usually soft and slow in bed - teasing and smirking and chuckling through it all. You loved that about him. But tonight there was a meaness and urgency about it - the way he made you beg for him and the way his desperation for your validation seeped through the cracks.
"Ah MC, you're this turned on already...have I been teasing you too much?"
"Sol-Solomon please...please need you...inside me..." You panted into his shoulder and he listened.
"I'm so sorry, MC...could you tell me a little more clearly?" He said hugging you tighter. You whined and pleaded.
"Please fuck me, Solomon...Need you so bad...."
He kissed you deeply, slowly starting to thrust into you. But in that brief moment of calm, you were sure you heard muffled noises in the room. Like someone else screaming, calling your name. You looked around you in panic.
"Solomon... what's that noise?"
Something sinister ghosted over his eyes. "What noise, my love? All I hear is you and me." His thrusts gained speed. Now you could hear nothing over your bodies colliding, his hot and needy groans and praises against your ear.
He fucked you till you could no longer think straight. But he was sure to make you so comfortable and cozy in his arms that you promptly fell asleep, wrapped up in his bedsheets.
"Mmph...mhhhpppphh....MPPPHHHHCCC!"
"Hush now. Don't you dare disturb my dear apprentice with your ruckus."
"MPHHHHHCCC...MMMHHH-"
"I said...QUIET. Honestly even after I let you see it for yourselves... exactly who MC really belongs to."
"Mmmmhhccc... *sobs*"
"Ugh. What a miserable bunch. This is simply your punishment for trying to sneak into MC's room...and you want more?"
You thought you were dreaming - none of it made sense afterall. Well nothing except Solomon's voice. You rubbed your eyes, forcing yourself awake.
What you saw through the moonlit darkness was nothing less than horrifying. Mammon, Levi and Asmo slumped over halfway between the closet and floor, gagged and bound tightly by glowing purple chains.
And in front of them, Solomon stood menancingly. You could feel his rage even with his back turned towards you, several of his pact marks glowing in the dark. You gathered the sheets together, hiding your bare body.
"S-solomon?"
He looked back with eyes widened in shock. The three demon brothers started screaming your name through the gags again.
"MC... you're awake." He sighed and muttered under his breath. "I knew I should have just cast a sleep spell..."
"What are you doing to them? What's going on...?"
Solomon let out a loud laugh, almost sinister and he looked around as if suprised. "Oh MC, you sure have the wildest dreams don't you?"
"...a dream?" Your mind was still buzzing, half-asleep and tired. "You're in my dream?"
"Yes, my little apprentice." He walked over to you, his bare body glimmering in the moonlight. "I didn't know you were secretly so kinky...you wanted me to claim you in front of them?"
With blurry eyes you watched the three brothers shake their heads and let out more muffled screams. But all you could register was his warm hand sliding between your thighs again, his lips ghosting over your neck as he made you lie down again.
"Mhhmm Solomon..." You were still so sensitive, even the lightest touch was driving you crazy. He repositioned you so your head was towards the brothers and your hips were connected with his.
"You are so irresistible when you call my name like that..." He kissed you deeply, tongue lashing inside. "Won't you say it again?"
You were always weak to his praises. Giggling slightly into the kiss, you called his name over and over again. "Solomon...that tickles ahah...ahh not there Solomon!"
He was so overwhelmed with joy and so ready for you, his length pulsing against your already abused hole. "Shh shh, it's okay, MC. Look how good you're making me feel...in fact, them too..."
Solomon hoisted you onto his lap, piercing you with his length as you watched the brothers while holding onto his shoulders. In the dim light, you could still see their faces bright red, pained and arousals restrained in their pants.
"How pretty you are, making everyone around wild with desire. Especially your own master. My perfect little apprentice." He kissed and nibbled on your eyes, gripping your hips and bouncing you on himself.
"Come to your senses, MC! This ain't a fucking dream!" Mammon's voice was sharp like static. He seemed to have bitten through the gag.
"Wha...what?" You barely register his words.
"You came here to break up with him-- he's tricking you again-- it's a bonding curse--"
"Everytime he fucks you-- he's spilling his essence into you--- the curse gets stronger--" Asmo whined in sobs.
"You keep forgetting-- he's done this so many times before--" Levi's gargled voice followed.
"What noisy demons. MC, let's practice some spell-casting shall we?" Only Solomon's voice was clear enough to comprehend. So that's the only one you followed.
"What... ahhh...spell.... mhhmm" He had increased his pace again, you were so close. He smirked into your shoulder.
"Make them leave. All three at once. And then we both can finish." He slowed down almost to a halt. Your body ached for release - tears welling in your eyes.
"But I can't...can't focus like this..."
"Of course you can. You're my talented little apprentice, you can anything." He kissed your chest, right on top of your beating heart. He always knew just what to say.
"Denizens of darkness, hear me, I, the Sorceror, MC call upon the demons..." You cast your spell as carefully as you could with his length still throbbing inside you. But thankfully it worked. "They're gone now, Master..." You flirted back.
He pushed you down and thrust into like an animal in heat. He came inside you again, flooding you with warmth and a sleepy feeling. "You're simply too perfect, MC...how could I ever let you go?"
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Don't Blame Me
Tangerine x fem!reader
Summary: You've been the Twins' handler for years now, and when Tangerine blows up at you one evening after a mission, he apologizes in an unconventional way.
Genre: SMUT (nsfm)
Warnings: implied fuck boy!Tangerine, bitchy!Tangerine in the beginning, reader is named Peach, unprotected sex, passionate sex, not much foreplay (they're desperate lmao), swearing, insecurities, praise kink, degradation, emotional, Tangerine is all over the place and bad with his feelings!
I'm so sorry I feel like this took forever <3 enjoy! @j23r23
"He loves me, he loves me not. He loves me, he loves me not," you smile, your nails drumming on the desk as you pick at the petals of the roses in the jar near your computer. "Ah ha, he loves me. Knew you were so full of shit," you hum happily.
"Piss off," Tangerine loudly grunts in your ear and you tilt your head, scrunching your nose. You've told him not to yell like that—you've warned him that the earpiece is sensitive and you'll lose your hearing if he continues like this—but he never listens.
Being the Twins handler for almost four years now you've learned how to deal with their quirks.
Lemon, as ruthless as he is, is too trusting. He's also loyal to a fault and he'd die for Tangerine in seconds; something you've had to account for in your missions so it doesn't happen.
Tangerine on the other hand? Recklessness under the guise of control. He'd burn the entire world down for Lemon without hesitation, his temper as bright as the flames of a wildfire.
Unexplainably however, you were drawn to him the most.
While he pushes your buttons like no one else, you also tend to push him in ways that leave him wanting—no needing—more.
"Tan," you warn again, "don't talk so loudly, they'll hear you!"
"Stop your yapping in my ear then, luv," Tangerine snaps, his comment snarky and you hear a loud humph as it sounds like someone crashes into something.
Tangerine sounds out of breath and you use your mouse to click on the map on your computer. You zoom in and ask, "Where's Lem? You aren't supposed to meet any security for a while—"
"He's busy, darlin'. And your little shortcut turned out to be not so short after all," Tangerine says and you hear a loud grunt. It's obvious he's in the middle of a fight.
Your blood runs cold as you chew on your lip. Your hands quickly dance over the keyboard as you try and find another way for them—an easier way—
"Hey, Peach, will ya stop breathing so damn loudly, it's distracting me," Tangerine's voice interrupts your worry and you hold your breath when you hear a loud thwap and then a grunt—immediately accompanied by cursing and more hoarse shouts.
"Tangerine!" his name spills from your lips as you hear louder blows. "Tan?" you whisper when the line disconnects and a low buzz is heard in your ear. You fumble to discard the earpiece onto the desk in front of you and then you focus on finding Lemon.
If anyone can help Tangerine, it's Lemon.
With a frown, you activate the tracker you'd promised not to slip into Lemon's jacket, and a little red light blinks on your computer screen. He's not far from where Tangerine is. You lean over and connect to the microphone on your computer.
"Lemon?!"
You hear a crack and then the shuffling of clothes against the microphone in the tracker. "Peach?" Lemon grunts, "Ya cheeky lil' bird, I told ya not to track me," he lets out a breathy laugh, and another smack is heard, "Fuck me, these fuckers just don't die easily!"
"Lem? Where's Tan?" you ask, seeing that the tracker Tangerine wears voluntarily on his suit hasn't moved in a while. "Is he okay? I think the earpiece broke."
Something must have happened to his tracker too if it's malfunctioning.
"Yeah, which is why I say I should wear it—but he's bossy and he's your favorite," Lemon says.
"I don't have favorites!" you insist, your cheeks burning.
"Sure, whatever," Lemon chuckles and then adds, "Ah, speaking of the devil—I can see 'im now. Damn, he's beat up ain't he. Bullocks. Y'know your little plan was shit, Peach, security swarmed us almost immediately!"
You pinch your eyes and guilt settles in your stomach. "I know, I know, I'm sorry,"
You hear Tangerine's voice distantly as he grumbles, "Fuckin' arsehole broke my earpiece when he punched me—I lost contact with Peach," he complains and you hear shuffling. Your stomach fills with unwanted butterflies at the sound of his voice and how your codename rolls off his tongue.
"She can hear ya," Lemon says, his smirk evident in his tone, "Say hello, Peach."
"She tracked ya?"
"Yeah, and bugged me too apparently."
"What the fuck, my tracker doesn't do that," Tangerine says and you hear an infliction in his voice.
"Yeah, cauz you always have the earpiece."
"Because she likes me better,"
"That's what I said!!"
"Oi, you wankers, I can still hear you," you interrupt, "Will you just come back to the van now? The mission's a bust," you finish. While they continue to bicker for a moment, Lemon finally shuts down the tracker—by breaking it you assume—idiot—and it isn't until the van door slams open that you hear and see them again.
"Oi, now you're takin' the piss," Tangerine exclaims, glaring at his brother as he runs a hand through his mussed hair. He enters the van and you stand. Your eyes scan over his appearance; his suit is torn and bloodied and he has a gaping cut on his forehead. His ear is also bleeding from when you assume the broken earpiece had shattered.
"Christ," you whisper and walk over to him. Lemon smirks as he walks by the both of you and collapses onto the second chair near your desk. He's less beat up than Tangerine—who'd taken on more men you assume—but you remind yourself to check on him later anyway.
Tangerine senses you come up to him and he tenses when you hold his cheeks in your hands and check his wounds. "Tan, this looks bad," you say.
"Peach, I'm fine," he grumbles and turns his head away. He sounds grumpier than usual.
"Look, I'm sorry—I'm sorry I messed up, I—"
Suddenly, Tangerine explodes. His hand comes up around his ears as he scrunches up his nose. "Will ya just stop talkin' for one fuckin' second?!" he yells and even Lemon, who had been a silent bystander to the conversation, looks up from where he's bandaging his hand.
Your eyes widen and you blink at Tangerine. "W-what?"
He presses his index on his temple and narrows his eyes at you. "I have a fuckin' headache 'cause of you and you talkin' my fuckin' ear off all the damn time! And now I can barely hear because it's ringing so fuckin' hard!" he points to the blood inside his ear.
You flinch at his tone and try to control the tears threatening to spill as he harshly berates you.
"Right," is all you say, "sorry," your voice sounds small and you push by him and out to the front of the van to start the engine.
* * *
When you arrive outside their house—well, your house too since you've been living with them for the past three months—you don't talk to Tangerine. You don't even look at him.
Instead, without a word, you walk up to your room, tears still brimming, and slam the door behind you.
Your stomach hurts and your nails dig into your palms as you run a shower. You desperately want to wash away any memory of what happened tonight.
It isn't uncommon for you and Tangerine to fight—but he's never shouted like that and never in response to your worry.
Once you finish with your shower and walk out of the bathroom, just a towel wrapped around your body, you jump when you see Tangerine standing in the middle of your room.
He'd clearly freshened up too but, unlike yours, his hair is freshly dried. You aren't surprised—you know he hates sleeping with it when it's wet.
He's wearing a casual pair of beige slacks and a white T-shirt. The fabric strains against the muscles in his arms as he crosses them across his chest and you look up, feeling a burn in your cheeks.
Tangerine's ear has been bandaged and his cuts and bruises look kindly tended to. Lemon, you assume, he's always been soft on his brother even when he's acting like a jerk.
Tangerine is staring at you intensely, his blue eyes shining a shade darker than usual.
"Shit, stop being creepy," you grumble, holding your towel tightly around yourself. "Have you come to say you're sorry for acting like a prick or just stare a hole into my head?"
Tangerine's eyes narrow and he shakes his head. He stalks closer to you, pink lips parted and his hands find your hair near your nape. He pulls you in, seemingly unbothered by the squeal you make or how you're unable to move your hands to push him away.
Not that you'd want to push him away anyway.
"The fuck you think you're doing?" you hiss, staring at him, "have you gone mad?"
Tangerine just continues to stare into your soul. "You're so damn annoying," he mutters.
"I'll scream and Lemon will come and beat the shit out of you," you threaten, challenging him. You know Lemon would never do such a thing and you'd be a fool to scream.
"But, fuck me, I like you so damn much," he finishes his sentence, and then his lips find yours. His hand tightens in your hair as he kisses you. There's no tenderness in his kiss, no hesitation or remorse, just pure passion as he wraps his arms around you and holds your back as he pulls your chest to his.
You clutch the towel, making sure it feels secure, and kiss him back. You make a small sound behind his lips but you can't deny the heat in the kiss or how badly your stomach tightens just right. The steam coming from your bathroom is taunting as it surrounds you; sticky and warm.
"Tan," you mumble as his hand comes around your jaw and he turns your head to kiss your neck.
"Shut up," he growls, "you talk too damn much." He squeezes his eyes shut and the words fall easily from his lips as they press to your skin.
"God, you don't understand how hard it is for me; hearing your sweet voice in my ear while I'm trying not to get fuckin' stabbed or shot to death! You don't know what you do to me, darlin'. You have no fuckin' clue. It's fuckin' torture," he says as his hand tightens in your hair and you whimper.
"Tan, m-my towel," you tell him, struggling to hold it up as his body presses against yours.
This makes Tangerine snap out of whatever trance he's in for a moment and he looks down at you. His eyes have softened just a little and his tone is sultry when he asks, "Let it fall. I don't care. Do you?" His lips quirk up. "I've dreamt of you naked a thousand times, luv."
Your eyes round at the intensity of his words. You want to tell him to fuck off—that you've never thought of him like this. Never imagined his lips on yours or the way he'd feel inside you. But then you'd be a liar, and you aren't a liar.
Instead, you drop the towel, your eyes still intensely locked onto his. The cold air sends a shiver up your spine and Tangerine's hands find the skin on your back instead of the towel. His eyes haven't left yours and he looks surprised that you'd done it. He hasn't looked down and his cheeks have turned a dusty pink.
"What?" you move your hands up to his cheeks and hold them, "you said you'd dreamt of this. Well?" With as much confidence as you can muster, tilt his head to your naked body. You can feel your hands tremble against his cheeks, all kinds of insecurities and uncertainties bubbling inside you and just as you're going to pull away from sheer embarrassment, Tangerine speaks;
"Fuckin' hell, you look so much better than in my imagination," his hands slide up the curves of your hips and breasts. His touch is surprisingly gentle for how passionate he'd been in the beginning.
You watch as his eyes roam around your body and he runs a hand over his jaw, staring at you with pure admiration. "You belong in a fuckin' museum," he whispers behind his hand.
"Alright, lover boy," you roll your eyes and shift to move away but his hands find your hips and he hoists you up into his arms. You gasp, your arms finding his shoulders and your legs cling to his waist as your wet hair sprinkles water over his face. It's a weird position to be in considering you're naked.
"Tangerine!" you cry as he carries you over to your bed and you squeal when he drops you and hovers over you.
"Let me worship you, darlin'," he whispers as his knee slides in between your legs and he kisses your lips again. He disconnects them and looks at you seriously, "Please," he pleads and your eyes widen.
Tangerine never says please.
You find yourself nodding, too lost in the haze of it all to hear the small voice in your head screaming how stupid this is.
He'll throw you away after. He doesn't care. He'll hurt you. He'll break your heart!
You kiss him again, his lips moving against yours rhythmically. You're so lost in pleasure that when he sits up on his heels to strip his shirt, you whine and grasp at his arms. "Shhh, I'm here, dove," he chuckles, enjoying the power he has over you. When he leans over you to kiss you again, this time your hands find his abs and you can't help but explore them.
"You countin' them, luv?" he chuckles after a moment and his lips find your nipples as he squeezes one of your breasts in his hands. You make an embarrassed sound that quickly turns into a moan when he positions your hips just right so the fabric of his slacks hits your clit.
"I know, I know," Tangerine teases as he senses how needy you're becoming. "Shit, you're just a little slut, aren't ya, luv? Knew you'd wear those dresses to tempt me—didn't ya?"
You nod. You had. You didn't think it worked—he always played it so cool.
"You should know I would wank one out after seeing you—your thighs so visible and," he pauses and uses his hands to spread you open until he sees what he wants, "and that pretty pussy. So fuckin' pretty—
—you let me have a peek sometimes didn't you, naughty girl? Knew you did it on purpose," Tangerine says. He sounds satisfied with himself that he'd found you out and his grin widens when you nod.
"Just for you," you whisper, looking up at him with hooded eyes. "Please, Tan," you whine, you're already so wet for him.
"What do you want, hm? Tell me," he smirks and dips his head down to kiss your neck as his hands wander around your skin. He sits back up and removes his slacks and boxers. Your eyes downturn on his cock and you bite your lip. God, is he really this beautiful everywhere? How fucking unfair.
Tangerine's hand comes up to your chin, "Where do you want me?"
You look into his eyes, unsure how to ask him for what you want. Tangerine smiles, his thumb touching your lip. He's gentle, his eyes softer now, "Peach," he leans in and kisses just behind your ear. You shiver. "It's okay. Tell me where you want me," he smiles against your skin.
"Inside me," you say, your voice small
Tangerine hums and tucks some of your hair behind your ear, "Where inside you, luv? I want to hear you say it for me."
You feel your cheeks warm and you stare up at him. "In my pussy," you say and Tangerine's eyes light up and he smirks.
"My pleasure," he says and shifts his hips until you feel his cock press against your pussy. He feels you tense as your hands tighten around his shoulder.
"Hey, it's just me," he says, pushing in slower now. He looks concerned as one of his hands finds your hair and pushes the strands away from your eyes.
Yeah, that's the issue, you want to tell him but you just nod, squeezing your eyes shut.
"Look at me," he says as he pushes inside you fully. You gasp, arching into him and your breathing becomes harsh. He's so thick and long. Tangerine doesn't move and you let out a whine, your eyelids fluttering. "I said, look at me. I won't move until you look at me, darlin'," he whispers sternly.
When you finally look at him he smiles, "Do you trust me? I'm not gonna hurt you—promise."
You nod, biting your lip. Of course, you trust him. "I trust you," you answer breathlessly.
"Good girl," Tangerine praises and kisses your forehead. He starts to move his hips, pulling in and out of you with torturous strokes. He feels so good.
As he fucks you, he leans his forehead on yours, occasionally whispering praises into your ear as he tells you how pretty you look with him buried inside you.
"So fuckin' pretty with my cock inside your pussy, hmm," he grunts, continuing the pounding of his hips. "You close, luv? Already?" He teases you with a smirk and kisses your lips. You let out small moans, skin warm and sticky as you nod.
"Good," he smiles and uses his thumb to rub your clit, adding pressure as he fucks into you. "So good for me. All for me, hmm?"
"Y-yes," you groan, squeezing your eyes shut.
"Open your eyes, Peach," he demands and you do so instantly. "I want to look into your eyes when you come apart around me."
With that, the tension breaks inside you. Your body feels weak from the pleasure and your chest rises and falls rapidly once your high finishes. You let yourself relax into the mattress for a moment, ignoring the sudden stream of thoughts—good and bad—that race into your mind. Tangerine's lips touch your forehead again and then he pulls out, finishing on your stomach with a grunt.
You blink, feeling the bed dip and then his warmth disappears. You panic a little but you're too weak to move. If he wants to leave, let him, you convince yourself as you stare at the ceiling. However, when you feel something cold and wet across your stomach, you flinch and scramble to sit up.
Your eyes are wide and Tangerine pauses, removing the washcloth from your skin. He frowns a little, "Hey, what's wrong?" he asks softly. You stare at him. He's still shirtless but he's pulled up his trousers.
"You aren't leaving?" you ask, looking around the room and you suddenly feel very bare.
Tangerine's frown deepens but he doesn't speak for a moment as he washes away his cum from your skin and, after discarding the washcloth, he reaches behind him to hand you his shirt. You accept it without thinking and put it on, wrapping your arms around yourself as you continue to stare at him.
He shifts, sitting beside you with one leg off the bed. He still hasn't answered and you start to feel an impending pit in your stomach.
"Why would I leave?" he asks calmly, his voice doesn't have a hint of concern in its tone.
You fiddle nervously with the hem of his shirt, looking down. Your hair, now half-dried, is a mess from the pillows and you push it down and around your ears in an effort to compose yourself in front of him. "Well, I- I just assumed that you would—"
Tangerine tilts his head. "You think I would fuck and ditch, did ya? Ya think so low of me, Peach?" It feels like he sounds almost amused.
You shake your head but your nerves don't stop. "I mean, what do you expect me to think, Tangerine?" you look into his eyes and continue, "You come in here, all pissed at me—you yelled at me earlier and made me feel all shitty about myself—and then out of nowhere you kiss me and then we—"
"Fuck." Tangerine finishes bluntly.
You narrow your eyes at him. "Yeah, that," you let out a breath, "So, please, tell me. What am I supposed to think? What do you want from me now? Because I can't be one of your fuck toys, Tan. I refuse to be that girl. I- I care about you—" you feel your emotions get caught in your throat and you feel your eyes sting. Furiously, you wipe your eyes with your hands, refusing to cry in front of him.
Tangerine hasn't said a word. He's looking at you but you can't read his expression. You hate it. You shut your eyes, ready to call it quits, and tell him to leave, but then you feel the bed dip again and you feel his hands cup your cheeks. Your eyes snap open.
"Don't cry," he whispers, his thumb sliding under your eyes and catching your tears, "Please, don't cry because of a stupid bastard like me," he cracks a smile, hoping you'll smile too but when you don't and he sighs, "Okay, I was a dick, a real fuckin' dick, and you didn't deserve any of that. I'm sorry."
You nod, still listening to him, "You really were a dick," you whisper.
Tangerine chuckles and nods too. "Yeah. I was," he pauses and moves his thumb across your cheeks as if admiring you some more, "Do ya really believe I'd fuck ya for this to be a one-time thing, luv? That I'd just throw ya away after?"
Your cheeks feel warm. "I- I don't know,"
"You do know. You think I would do that to ya," Tangerine says, his voice low.
"I mean—that's what you do don't you? I've known you for years, Tan. All those girls—"
Tangerine suddenly laughs and his hands drop from your face. "Peach, you aren't those girls," he says, suddenly serious, "I wasn't just making it up when I said how hard it is for me to listen to you in my ear all the time. Not because you're annoying—which sometimes you are but that's beside the point—but because I haven't been able to stop thinking about you for years. You're all I goddamn think about. Do you understand how hard that is for me?"
You just frown, shaking your head a little. "No. This doesn't make sense. Why now—why not yesterday? Or months ago? Or years ago?"
Tangerine runs a hand in his hair and lets out a breath. "Because I didn't want to but I snapped, I snapped, okay? I'm not fuckin' proud of it. I yelled at you and I felt so bad after I didn't know what to do with myself anymore—
—you're always there for Lem and me, and I realized, after that fuckin' earpiece broke, that I hated not having your pretty voice in my ear anymore. It felt like I'd lost you—do you have any idea how scared that made me feel, even when I knew it was irrational and that you were completely safe?" His words come out jumbled and strained. "I fuckin' hated it, I hated feeling like that so I snapped," he finishes.
You stare at him, his words hitting you hard. You've never seen him like this and it scares you, but it also turns you on some more. Why does he have to be so fucking hot? "And I'm sorry. I am. I would never throw you away. I don't want to throw you away after this—especially after fucking you—that's the last thing I would want! I– I-"
You stare at him some more, your eyes wide, "You what—?"
Tangerine pauses, "I love you," he says, articulating every word so you hear him clearly.
"You love me?"
"Yes."
"As in love love?"
"Fuckin' hell Peach, ya want me to scream it at ya or somethin'? I'm in love with ya. I love ya more than anythin' I fuckin' have. You're my everything. I love you so damn much."
All your anger, doubt, and shame instantly vanished into thin air. He loves you. All this time he'd loved and he was just shit at expressing his emotions? You laugh, covering your mouth with your hand as happiness overwhelms you.
"Are ya laughing at me?" Tangerine's voice cuts in the air and you focus on him. He looks surprised and hurt.
Your smile falters and you shake your head. There is so much you want to tell him that you're at a loss for words. He looks so pretty like this, sitting in front of you, and your hands find his cheek instead of using words.
Your fingers skim the bandage that's still wrapped around his ear and you want to ask him if it still hurts. You want to ask him so many things. He's staring at you, chest heaving, and you don't think as you kiss him.
It's softer than the previous passionate kiss you'd shared. Only, Tangerine reacts with as much eagerness as earlier. His hands find your back and he presses you against him, your lips sliding against yours. It's intense and lovely all in the same.
"I love you too," you say quietly between kisses.
"Say it louder," Tangerine suddenly hums, his eyes shut in pleasure. You think he needs you to talk louder because one of his ears is bandaged and hurt.
So, you do as he asks and it earns you another kiss, however when Tangerine mutters, "I wanna hear ya say it again," you know he heard you fine. His voice is so love sick you just grin and wrap your arms around him, your hands bunching in his curls.
"I love you, Tangerine," you say breathlessly, "I love you."
"You have no idea how happy ya just made ma, luv," he responds instantly, running his hand over your cheek as he looks into your eyes. "God, I'd die for ya," he mutters and you frown, slapping his arm a little.
"Don't talk about you dying, you git," you reprimand, and Tangerine smirks.
He kisses your neck and with a teasing tone he reassures you, "Ya have nothin' to worry about, luv. I'd much rather live for you. You have all of my heart, darlin'. It's all yours," he guides your hand to press your palm against his chest and you feel how quickly his heart is beating.
"This beats for you."
You smile and kiss his lips once more as you bring his other hand to your chest too. "And I'm yours," you whisper. "Only yours."
And until then, you'd never seen Tangerine's grin widen as widely as it did when you said those words.
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Menace
prompt: ( request that i accidentally deleted ) in essence, "drabble about Tangerine going to the bathroom and texting Reader 'come here'."
pairing: Tangerine x female!reader
fandom masterlist: Bullet Train
word count: 4.4k+
warnings: cursing, OC!Tangerine, we talk mental health (social anxiety), established relationship, busy public work settings, the request and then some, alcohol consumption, smut, bathroom sex at a work event (Cherry, what the fuck?), handguns and mild depiction of violence 'cause it's Tangerine, i give him a 'real' name (Aaron), not edited.
"This is such bullshit, sugar, c'mon, fuck are we doin' here?" Tangerine snipped in your ear, his arm curled protectively around your waist as he glared at those in rich suits and expensive colognes around him. "We don't belong 'round this lot, they're just here t'wave their money. There's no real reason for us bein' here, sweet girl, c'mon, let's just shove off. Better than chokin' on whatever this lot's wearin' - I mean, Christ Alive, smells like a bloody Bloomingdales, don't it?"
You smiled prettily in case of watchful eyes, telling him sternly in a sweet tone, "Lovie, I told you, my boss said we were needed for at least cocktail hour. We can leave before dinner, okay?"
"This is gonna last fuckin' hours, princess, c'mon, we should just go," he grumbled. "Fuck these people and these bullshit fundraisers."
"We'll be okay, I promise," you soothed sweetly, the honest opposite of Tangerine - leaning in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. You were constantly touching one another and early in your relationship, you realized how much you loved kissing him and completely forewent lipsticks or glosses because of it. Another peck and you told him in a soft tone, "C'mon, just remember we said we'd pick up Changs on our way home and there's that bottle of nice Merlot A - I mean, Lemon gave us," you almost used your boyfriend's brother's real name, but caught yourself with plenty of time.
"Hmm," he smirked, his favorite takeout place being a happy distraction. "Cheat day sounds nice, yeah, but still don't make this go any faster, now does it?"
"No, but we're not gonna be here forever," you soothed, turning into his chest to pet the expensive material of this navy three-piece suit. "You look so handsome, my love. Really love seein' you in navy suits, and the white button up looks really clean with it." Tangerine smiled down at you, the bustle around you melting away as he could only hear, see, smell, feel, and focus on you. Then, you spoke coyly as you fixed his tie, "If you behave the rest of the night, I promise I'll make it up t'you. Yeah? Maybe wear that li'l white thing you love?" He perked up, but before he could respond, you ended, "Or maybe I already have it on - anyways, so, listen t'me, I have to go talk t'some people and do the job that pays me, so I suggest you just take a deep breath; get another drink, find Lemon, and then we'll go soon, okay?"
He looked around the usual investors his private employer had to shmooze for donated funding and frowned when he was acutely aware of not just the sheer number, but how many "important" people attended the evening's gala. The Black Market was funded by multiple someones; most of whom were in this very room and while under the radar, it still made Tangerine feel as if a huge target was painted on the building's wall. There was always a need for services outside the law and these richie-riches couldn't take the money with them to the grave, so, they donated money if it meant they were "well taken care of".
The Twins' handler insisted they attend the gala tonight; being well aware that they were more like show ponies for being on display for investors to see. Putting a face to names made myth into reality, and your boyfriend was a hot commodity due to his skill as a contract killer. He and his brother were legends around the various active agencies, investors happy to see their money going to good use; all wanting to know what they had bought for a price-tag of several billion.
The common conversation of the evening was how readily available The Organization was able to offer their services with no questions asked, no matter what. Tan hated these events, feeling nauseated, overstimulated, overwhelmed; overall, exploited by his employer as attendees gossiped about the Bolivia Job, the Kyoto Crash, the Libyan Disaster, and a few other memorable jobs Tan and Lemon were involved in. Their beady little eyes followed him around, mouths hidden behind crystal flutes of champagne, and bodies always shied away from him as if he were a wild beast.
Sure, they pay to sit and gather in the arena, but flee when the raging bull they've helped antagonize gets loose.
Then you came along and took on the brunt end of these social events. Tan was never quite sure how you got involved in this life, you always giving a new answer, but knew you had gone to university for multiple degrees - one being in something called "communications". Now, if you had asked Tan a few years ago, he'd've said that was a bullshit job, bullshit degree, a total waste of time. Now that his popularity had grown and he was exposed to more social obligations, he was was beyond grateful to have someone navigate this with him. Tangerine's bad attitude most of the time was just a deflection, being why you and Lemon could handle him; knowing the lad's anxiety often choked him past logic and made him a sarcastic, violent cunt.
When Tangerine forced himself back to reality after glaring at the other warm bodies mingling around, Tangerine's arm contracted tight enough that he could bring you in for a quick kiss. Quietly, he muttered in your ear, "I'll give you half an hour, darling, no more."
"No less," your eyes rolled but your lips were spread in a grin. He chuckled and softened his expression; whoever might've been watching feeling something akin to shock and awe (like one felt when they saw a lion in person for the first time), knowing Tangerine was a horribly stoic, violent, and short-tempered man. To see him now, amused and soft with such a beauty of a woman - well, it was jarring. He was still known to be an asshole, but it seemed you had a stronger leash on Tangerine than his handler ever did. But perhaps, no stronger than Lemon.
"Right," Tan sighed. "What was first on your list fa' me t'do?"
"You're gonna take a deep breath, get another drink, and then find Lemon," you repeated softly, "but I'm gonna say you owe me a kiss before that drink."
Tan huffed.
"That wasn't a deep breath, Tan, c'mon, we've been over this," you mock glared, feeling both his hands secure to your hips. He pet the expensive silk you wore with his thumbs, the pocket square resting over his heart a tailored square of the same material.
"Sweetheart - "
"In through your nose, out through your mouth, Tan," you cut him off. "Together, I'll do it with you, c'mon. In..."
Tangerine adjusted his stance in those shining Italian leather shoes you gifted him for Christmas that year. He took a steady breath in through his nose when you did, watching for your subtle nod, then exhaling slowly through his mouth - when you did. Again, together, in through the nose, your nod after about seven seconds, then exhaled through the mouth. After one more, you smiled at him in encouragement, both hands splayed on his lapels; his own moving so they coiled around you.
"All right," he grumbled, "yeah, it helps, pretty girl."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah, yeah."
"Feel better?"
"Don't push it, plum," he mumbled, bringing you in closer so he could kiss the hinge of your jaw, just below your ear while stroking your spine with his fingertips. "Thank you," he whispered, mustache tickling your skin, "always know how t'get me out me head, don't'cha?"
"I try, but you don't always make it easy, you know?" You rolled your bottom lip between your teeth to smother your grin, leaning into his chest. "Kiss me, please, then go get a drink and find Lemon. Don't talk to the investors," you warned, adding, "please."
This made a mischievous smirk spread across his lips, "Awe, hey, c'mon, aren't they here t'see me? I can say hello. You won't even 'ave'ta introduce me, they'll know me."
"Okay, yes, they're here t'see the lot of yah, but they're not here to get yelled at, yeah? Or called cunts? Insulted in any manner?" You sang in a light tone; caressing his cheek to guide him to your lips for a long desired kiss. The hand on his cheek curled around to grip the back of his neck, gently tugging the neat strands of hair as you tried to convey your pride.
Social anxiety was a bitch and though he'd deny it vehemently, Tan was riddled with it. Seeing him endure this evening (despite the constant complaining) was a mighty feat, wanting your kiss to spark something in his gut that would cause his confidence to soar so it'd put a bit of "pep in his step" to get through the rest of the evening.
And boy, did it.
After parting ways, Tangerine was left to get his drink with a full-chub that made him shake both legs out in an attempt to hide his arousal. Yet as he watched you melt seamlessly into the crowd, he couldn't get the picture out of his mind that maybe you were wearing that white thing he liked. Tan leaned on the bar top, cock stirring to life with each passing second; watching you mingle and mix and shmooze investors and wanting nothing more than to interrupt and get you alone. With his drink, he located Lemon, trying to forget the way his cock was begging for attention while you worked your magic on these walking-talking-money-bags.
"All right, bruv?" Lemon asked, the two standing with a few other agents that were wrangled in for the event.
"Hmm?"
Lemon glared, then snickered to himself. "Oh, fuck me, mate, you're fucked, aren't you?"
"Come off it," Tan took another slug from the expensive whiskey glass. "'S only me second."
Lemon blinked in shock, "That's not possible. You hate these fancy things, you don't like bein' sober at'em."
"I've been distracted."
"No shit, 'cause your lady's here, gotta be on your best behavior, don't yah?" Lemon snickered, sighing as he shook his head and accepted the champagne being passed around by a waiter with a full tray. "But enough that you ain't been drinkin'? Yeah, right - oh, shit, wait," he beamed, "didn't Y/N get that administrative promotion? It's that, ain't it? Ho-ho!" He laughed, "Yeah? Don't tell me you've been her arm candy all night, mate?"
"We've been tucked away, actually," Tan admitted, missing the way Lemon blinked in shock 'cause he was searching for you in the deepening crowd. "She knows I don't like these things, right, so, we stood away from 'em all, ova there," he pointed off to where Lemon knew was roped off for VIPs. "We were just talkin', laughin'. She makes these shitty li'l jokes, you know? Kept us more entertained than the rest of these fucks," Tangerine chuckled, hand hiding his grin of amusement as he wiped around his mouth to play it off.
This made Lemon nod with impression, "Yeah?"
"Yeah, but," Tan sniffled, "duty calls, she's gotta work a bit, get some donations goin'. Apparently, I'm not allowed t'talk t'the fancy donors."
Lemon checked his watch, "Fair enough, you did punch that Sultan - "
"Oh, come the fuck off it, that was three years ago! He was fine."
"You broke his nose, mate. You want another?"
Tangerine skulled the last of his drink, shaking his head. "Nah, I'm good, mate. Might be time t'go soon."
"I'll leave when you two do, wouldn't wanna be stuck here alone," Lemon agreed, the two turning away to stand at a cocktail table together and away from the others. "This is why we don't work inna office, this lot - Jesus, fuck. Oh, shit, oi, mate, you seen who all's here tonight? Fuck's sake..."
"Yeah, mate, I've seen 'em all, but there's too many t'know who the fuck you mean specifically." He pulled his phone out as Lemon rumbled on in excited impression about the evening's guests to send you a quick text,
wrap it up, pretty girl. i got things i wanna do to you that ain't for others to see unless they pay.
He could see you from where he and Lemon stood; and when your phone chimed, you checked it almost instantly, smiling at the message. He waited for your rapid reply,
if my panties had a crotch, they'd be soaked. love you in blue 💙
That was enough for Tangerine, who nodded at his brother, "Gimme a minute, yeah? Gonna pop off t'the loo before we go. Have another," he pointed to the drink in Lemon's hand as he backed away, "but not that frilly shit, mate, have a real fuckin' drink. Oi!" He snapped his fingers at a passing waitress, "Sorry, sweetheart, yeah, my bruva, there," he pointed at Lemon, who waved awkwardly, "will take a double whiskey, on the rocks, yeah, and he likes them lemon twists. That somethin' you can grab for him, love?"
"Absolutely," she nodded, high-strung ponytail swishing.
Tangerine snickered lightly, shelling out a hefty tip that she accepted, "And bring him a Lemon Drop shot, too, please."
"Anything else, sir?"
"Ah, if you'd like, maybe your number for him, too?" Tan instigated, hearing Lemon groan and grumble in embarrassment. "My bruva, there, he's bloody golden, yeah? Can't do no better, man just has no flaws - less we count tha' he's a wee bit shy, innit? Pretty ladies intimidate him a bit, but he's the bravest man I fuckin' know. Just gotta warm 'im up a bit, don't'cha know?"
"He sounds like a real gentleman. But maybe I can give mine if you give your number to my friend?" The waitress countered, pointing towards the central bar that the servers operated out of. There was a decently pretty girl with dark hair, twiddling her fingers at them with a pearly grin. "She's sweet, kind, absolutely wild in bed - "
"Sounds like an even deal, sweets, but you see - I've got a woman, yeah? And my lady? Well, she's kinda one of your bosses tonight, so, uh, might not be a good idea now, would it? She gets all territorial, protective, likes what's hers t'be just hers - ain't real big on sharin'." The waitress flushed in embarrassment. "But my bruva, here," Tan pointed back at Lemon while unlocking his phone, "he's a fuckin' don, yeah? Ain't nobody gonna treat cha' t'a better night. Oi, hey, I'll be back, bruv," he called to Lem with a smirk, then reminded the waitress, "double whiskey, lemon twist, on the rocks. And that Lemon Drop, please."
"Of course, sir, right on it," she agreed, Tangerine finally backing away fully. He typed you a new message,
meet me in the bathroom right now
Inside, it was decently spacious; unisex, six stalls, made of pristine marble, veiled fluorescent lighting, and there was a lock on the door - which Tan cared most about.
He planted himself behind the two other men at the walled-off urinals, hands clasping together in front of him. "Right, then, you two," he gestured between them, "got 'bout 30 seconds to finish yourselves and get the fuck outta here." He pulled the usual gun from his waistband, threatening, "Or I'll give you fuckin' fucks a show 'bout all them stories you love whisperin' 'bout. Yeah? How's that? Hey? Thirty! Twenty-nine! Twenty-eight!"
They were barely zipped up and gone by the time Tangerine got to second 21; you entering right as the two were scurrying for the swinging-open door. You yelped a little, jumping out of their way, offering Tangerine a strange look and musing, "Uh, what was that? You fightin' in the privy, again?"
He put his handgun away as he stalked towards you, "Just makin' sure we wouldn't be interrupted."
"Tan, hell no, there's so many people!"
He yanked you from the doorway, making sure it was shut before locking it loudly. "Then we gotta be quick, don't we? C'mon, doll, real fast, bosses won't even question you bein' gone."
"I still have work - "
"Nah, nah," he pawed your gown's skirts upward, "you been teasin' me all fuckin' night, lookin' too fuckin' good - I can't wait, baby. Just look so Goddamn pretty, feels like I'm losin' my mind. Lemme see yah," he got the silk bunched around your waist, gasping loudly when he saw your panties. "You really did wear 'em... Like the good girl you are," he purred, one hand dropping the silk to run his hand over the strappy and lacy material you wore. "Swear I'll take my time with yah at home, the way I want - but can't do that here, just needa be inside yah, sugar, c'mere."
"Baby," you gasped when his fingertips ghosted around your cunt that was bare due to the crotchless cutout. "I only need a-a-a," you trailed off, panting when one finger suddenly plunged into your cunt, "ohhh, shiiiit. Yes, baby, oh, God!"
"Keep talkin'," He smirked, backing you up towards the marble counter. "C'mon, tell me off. Tell me what's more important right now, huh? More important than this? Is it work? Huh? Work got you distracted? Wanna get back t'it instead of bein' here with me?" The heels of your palms slammed into the pristine counter, whimpering when he pumped erratically. "Aht, here you go," he smirked, pausing to pull his hand free of your warmth; seizing your waist and helping hoist you back onto the sink's ledge. Your lips meshed sloppily with his, Tan letting you dominate the kiss because you were mewling - so desperate for him, you were nearly suckling on him; hands trembling as they held his cheeks with your manicured fingertips. When your legs instantly spread to accommodate Tangerine's hulking form, grinding your hips into him, he seethed, "Good girl," before sinking his digit back into your wet heat that halted your ministrations out of pure relieving pleasure.
"You're a menace," you panted against his mouth when you remembered reality, Tangerine's belt rattling open and his zipper teeth shrieking when you shucked them open. "Gimme," you whispered, reaching for him; dropping his pants the rest of the way to take his pulsing cock in hand. "This what you wanted? Right? Why you texted me? Interrupted me?"
"Exactly," he licked his lips before smashing them to yours in a suffocating kiss, always the one to help you push boundaries and do things you never thought you'd ever do if not for him. "Why're you so wet? Huh? Why's that? Had this on your mind, too, didn't'cha, dirty girl? Why else would you wear my favorite?"
"'T reward you for tonight," you panted, giving his cock a few pumps. "'S my scene, not yours, just so fucking proud of yah - for how you did, gettin' through it," you guided him to your weeping entrance after pushing his hand from you, both gasping when his cockhead notched on the lip of your cunt. "Yes, yes, yes, yes," you chanted, praising him as he sunk his hips into your own; effectively blurring your mind.
He grunted, needing a single moment to press his balls between you two as he waited for you to accommodate to his size. Forehead to forehead, your eyes remained shut; breathing the same air, feeling your insides fluttering at the size of him. His mouth was at your ear, demanding, "Tell me again, pretty girl."
You knew what he wanted, letting your legs spread a little wider and held onto his shoulders since this position didn't allow for much else. You whimpered, "You did so good tonight, baby. Oh, fuck, I'm so proud of you - you did so fuckin' good." He groaned and retracted his hips, beginning a brutal pace and messy rhythm to pump himself in deep strokes. You had to hold onto his upper arms now to allow him space to move. "Always so good for me, but tonight? Fuck - you're so good, Aaron. So fucking good - and tonight you were fucking amazing. I'm so proud, so fucking proud of you," you whimpered, his hands holding your hips so the counter could pose as leverage to allow him the angle to pound up into you while shifting you down on him.
"Almost there, baby," he begged, eyes all over. He loved the sight of your 'panties' still on; the criss-crossing of the straps and pattern of the lace still in place while his cock made a mess of you. Your gown glittered in this light, your skin tacky with a thin layer of sweat from your arousal that made him dip low and lick a bold stripe between your breasts. "Lemme see - lemme get a taste, doll, want you in my mouth," he muttered against your cleavage, still holding you on his cock as you pulled a tit free. You gave a shrill yelp when Tangerine surged forward suddenly and bit harshly on your budding, sensitive nipple; but it was in-sync with him changing the pace of his thrusting to something borderline painful.
It wasn't a secret he was well-endowed, there wasn't much to the imagination with the way his suits are tailored.
But having ten(plus) inches; fully swollen, engorged, jackhammering into you at this angle? It wasn't the most pleasurable at first, but with Tan licking, nipping, and sucking at both nipples now, you endured until moaning authentically. You were all but hanging off the counter by now, Tan the only reason you weren't on the floor; using upper body strength to hold onto him while slithering a hand toy your stomach to toy with your enlarged clit.
It took very little time of harsh pressure from your fingers to come undone, pleasure mounting to a crescendo before shattering your grip to reality. With a gasp, your hips humped into Tan's by your own blinding vocation; arms tight around his shoulders to remain upright as you milked yourself.
The contraction of your cunt was all Tangerine needed, and four slaps of his balls later had him doubling over and pinning you in a small slam, chest-to-chest, to the marble.
"Oh, my fuckin' God," you panted in appreciation.
"Shit," he realized, "shit, fuck, did I hurt you? Fuck - baby - "
"I'm not hurt," you panted, keeping a tight hold to refuse him from standing up, "just happy."
He deflated with a small chuckle. In your neck, he mumbled, "I can't feel my legs."
"Wanna sit?"
"Nah, not here," he mused, licking the sweaty skin of your pulse point. "Just had t'wear the li'l white ones, didn't'cha?"
"You get all worked up when I do."
"With good reason, should see yourself the way that I do - Goddamn, doll. My girl's divine, too good for these fuckers out here."
You were about to retort, but there was a loud, rapid banging at the locked door. "Hey! Hey! Whoever's in there! There's people that need in, you fucking arseholes! Get your dick wet at your own place, you broke bitches!"
You gasped and slapped a hand over your mouth as Tangerine finally stood off you, keeping you balanced on the counter as you sat up. "Oh, my fucking God, Tan! I-I-I-I'm gonna get fired! Oh, holy shit! This isn't happening!"
"No - "
"Aaron, we were literally just caught - "
"Hey, hey, just breathe," he paused, sighing as he caressed your cheek. "Let me handle this for us, okay? The way you protect me, let me protect you. Yeah?"
You nodded mutely, looking ready to burst into tears. After Tan pulled out and helped you clean up (ignoring the warm cum that dripped down your inner thighs), he simply wrapped you in his navy suit jacket, rolled up his crisp white sleeves, and pulled out his handgun. "Oh, baby, don't - "
"Trust me," he purred, arm secure around your waist. "Oh... Shit, hang on," he set the gun down to use his hands and fix your hair, your heart soaring by the sweet, domestic gesture. "I got'cha, pretty girl, one sec - there we go, yeah," he smirked, looking proud of himself. "Yeah, all right, there we go," he cupped your cheeks, "all perfect."
"Thank you," you whispered.
"Now, we're gonna walk out with confidence. Just don't stop, don't look at anyone. Actually, look a li'l smug," he instructed. "And we're just gonna grab Lemon and get outta here, yeah?"
You pouted lightly, "After I get the O-K from my boss."
"Nah, we don't ask permission, just forgiveness."
"Terrible philosophy."
"I prefer effective. Ready?" He asked, picking his gun up again. You nodded, latching onto him as his arm secured around you again, then approached the door. He unlocked it loudly and yanked it open, glare instantly taking over his expression as you were met with a gaggle of angry, grumbling patrons. "We got a fuckin' problem?" Tangerine sneered, his gun winking in the dim lighting; those who were waiting instantly backing off.
You did as he advised: didn't look at anyone, didn't stop, looked a little smug. He lead you through the throng of people, hearing a woman sneer under her breath - gasping when Tan turned his gun on her. "Tangerine!" You snapped, the people around you all freezing.
"Got somethin' t'say?" He taunted the woman, who shook her head. "No? You sure? Now?" He asked, shifting the weapon over to her date's forehead. She shook her head again. This made Tan smirk, "Jealousy ain't pretty on anyone, love. Keep your fuckin' mouth shut."
"Let's go, now," you insisted, tugging on his unbuttoned waistcoat to walk away together. "Can't shoot everyone who offers insult."
"No, but word will spread," he smirked. "Ain't nobody gonna say a fuckin' word to yah now. And if they do," he shrugged, "you'll tell me. All right, now, uh," he paused you both, nodding ahead, "that's a bit of my doin'. Question is, do we interrupt?"
You peered around a person or two until Lemon and a pretty waitress was in sight. She was giggling and grinning, the two deep in conversation; just enraptured and toying with each other's hands.
"We should probably let him know we're leaving. Maybe text him?"
"So, we are leaving, huh?" Tan smirked. "No more precious work to go run off to?"
Your lips moved beside his ear, licking the shell before speaking so your cool breath fanned over the wet skin, "I can't work with your cum leakin'."
His hand groped your arse cheek tightly, "If you do, I promise t'make yah my li'l Twinkie, huh? Fuck you all night, like you deserve."
"Oh, now you wanna stay? You fuckin' serious?"
"Yeah, but, now it's a game."
"You're a fucking menace!"
requesting rules and masterlist
Bullet Train masterlist
#tangerine#tangerine bullet train#bullet train tangerine#tangerine x reader#tangerine smut#tangerine imagine#tangerine x you#tangerine x y/n#bullet train#bullet train movie#bullet train 2022#atj#tangerine atj#atj tangerine#atj character#tangerine x f!reader#tangerine x female!reader#tangerine x fem!reader#bullet train tangerine x reader#tangerine bullet train x reader#tangerine x reader smut#requested#queers gambit
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