#But it would take a damn lot of convincing to change my mind | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

spiicii · 3 months ago

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the og bloodline / bloodline property (snapshots)

jey uso / jimmy uso / roman reigns / solo sikoa / sami zayn x fem!reader word count → 7.0k summary → you belong to the bloodline, but life with the family isn’t without its shenanigans. between prank wars and arguments over movie night, the boys certainly know how to keep you on your toes. notes → this fic is meant to be a fun look at the character dynamics! i get a lot of questions about how the reader interacts with the family outside of the steamy scenes and i thought this would be a fun way to explore it. that being said, there’s still plenty of smut at the end where jimmy finally gets the reader all to himself ;) links → masterlist / taglist tags → daddy kink, dom/sub lifestyle, unprotected piv sex, degradation, dirty talk, begging, spanking, hair pulling, crying, possessive behavior, jealousy, cuddling, and fluff, jimmy likes to be called sir (change my mind)

Movie Night

The living room was in an uproar. The three brothers were arguing, all of them standing off in front of the TV as they continued to talk over each other. It didn’t help that they all spoke with their hands, gesticulating wildly as they continued to bicker. You could hardly make out the words amidst the chatter, each sentence louder than the last.

“I done told you we ain’t watchin’ that shit, uce! I hate that fucking series.”

“What’s wrong with Halloween, man? You nothin’ but a hater!”

“You picked last time anyway! Why don’t you sit yo’ ass down and shut the fuck up for once!”

“At least I got some taste! What ‘bout you? Always pickin’ the longest fucking movie ever and then complainin’ when everyone falls asleep. I should snatch that damn remote out yo’ hand!”

You rolled your eyes, moving back to the microwave to check on the popcorn. You were the only one in the house who wouldn’t burn it. You watched with an amused expression as Sami moved to your side, his eyes still glued to the conflict in the living room.

“Are they always like this?”

You chuckled. “Just for movie night. They take it very seriously.”

Sami made a sound of agreement, watching as Jey grabbed a blanket from one of the couches and hurled it at his twin’s head, who dodged it with ease.

“Ha! I see yo’ aim ain’t improved since college!”

“Aye, you better watch yo’ mouth!”

Sami’s eyes moved to where Roman sat near the balcony door, his hand covering his face in annoyance as the boys continued to yell.

“And Roman just…let’s it happen?”

You shrugged. “If he gets involved they just yell louder. But don’t worry, they just need to get it out of their system. Once the popcorn is done they’ll calm down.”

Sami didn’t seem convinced, frowning as Solo snatched the remote from Jimmy’s unsuspecting hand.

“Hey! You ain’t slick - give that back!”

“Don’t nobody wanna watch that shit, uce. Your picks always suck!”

“Oh you one to talk! Whatchu wanna watch tonight? The Notebook?”

The bickering continued, Roman leaning his head back against the chair to stare at the ceiling in exasperation. You couldn’t hide a smile as you pulled the popcorn from the microwave, motioning for Sami to hand you a bowl.

“How on earth do they ever decide on a movie?” Sami asked, his eyes flickering back to the living room in concern as Jimmy tackled Solo to the couch, both of them fighting for control of the remote.

“They don’t.” You replied.

Sami still seemed confused. “Then how-?”

“Just watch.”

You turned off the kitchen lights, handing the bowl of popcorn to Sami, before moving into the living room.

The boys were still wrestling on the couch, Jey now getting involved as he placed his younger brother in a headlock. The yelling was so loud you knew you’d get a noise complaint from the neighbors. Again.

With a practiced ease, you approached the couch, avoiding the flurry of limbs, and deftly plucked the TV remote from Solo’s hands. They didn’t even notice, Solo now using his feet to fend off Jimmy. Now irritated at his younger twin’s intrusion, Jimmy decided to lunge for Jey who let out a creative string of expletives as his brother tackled him off the back of the couch and onto the floor.

Roman let out a long-suffering sigh, watching with a growing irritation as the twins knocked over a lamp in their tussle.

You threw a cheeky wink to Sami who was watching the scene unfold with horror. “Watch this.” You cleared your throat, speaking loudly over the yelling. “Oh no! Who am I going to sit with for the movie?”

You watched with amusement as the yelling instantly stopped, the three brothers scrambling to return back to their seats. You raised an eyebrow as Jimmy kicked his younger twin to the side in an effort to make it to his seat first, his eyes innocent as he looked back at you.

“You can sit here, baby.” Jimmy cooed, patting his lap. “It’s right here waitin’ for you.”

“Man, shut up!” Jey snapped, taking his seat beside his twin. You were impressed at how quickly he switched from irritated to begging as he gave you his best puppy-dog eyes. “You can sit wit’ me, sweetheart. Come on, you know you want to.”

You glanced over at Solo who had taken a chair of his own, now glowering at his older brothers with his arms across his chest.

You turned back to Sami who was staring at you. “See?"

You took the popcorn bowl from a still surprised looking Sami, popping a few pieces in your mouth as you turned back to the brothers. “I don’t even know why you’re arguing. You know we’re still watching the Scream movies in order, right? Aren’t we on the third one now?”

The brothers frowned, looking at each other. Clearly they’d forgotten.

You sighed. “Well, you’d better get comfortable. I’m about to start it.”

Jimmy and Jey scrambled to pick up the blankets and pillows from the floor, still looking at you expectantly in the hopes that you would choose them as your designated seat for the night. Solo, ever the wise one, didn’t even try, knowing full well what your intentions were as he settled into his chair.

You couldn’t help but press a kiss to Solo’s forehead, watching as the irritation melted from his face, his eyes now sparkling with fondness as he looked up at you.

You turned to Sami. “Sit wherever you want, hon. But don’t engage in the arguments about horror movie tropes. It only encourages them.”

“Horror movie tropes…” Sami seemed bewildered.

You waved a finger at the twins. “You got a lot of nerve. Making a mess of this house and expecting me to sit with you. And in front of Sami too? He’s gonna think we’re animals or something.”

The twins at least had the decency to look embarrassed, both of them fidgeting under the mountain of blankets they’d accumulated. You made a pointed look to the lamp they’d knocked on the floor and Jey quickly returned it to the table, offering you a sheepish grin.

You rolled your eyes, making your way over to Roman’s chair who had been watching you with unconcealed pride. You were the only ones who could wrangle the brothers without making a scene and he made a pleased sound as you climbed into his lap, offering him some popcorn as you curled up against him.

The twins began to protest, still staring at you with pleading puppy eyes, but a sharp glance from the Tribal Chief quickly silenced them. You chuckled, pressing a kiss against Roman’s neck just to watch the twins stare in jealousy.

You held out the bowl to them. “Popcorn?”

Prank Wars

Monday

It started with Jimmy. Of course, it started with Jimmy. He’d decided to hide behind the shower curtain to scare Jey one afternoon after a workout.

You hadn’t known about it in advance, but you were sure that was calculated. Jimmy knew you would have stopped him.

It wasn’t because you hated fun (although you knew Jimmy would disagree). You loved a good prank as much as the next person. The problem was that pranks were never just pranks with the Samoans. They always escalated and once it started it was difficult to stop. The last time the brothers got into a prank war it had taken months to finally come to a truce.

You’d been in the living room with Solo, curled up in his lap as you both read the newest Stephen King book.

“Are you ready to turn the page?” You asked, already reaching up to do so before he snatched the book away.

“No, I’m not ready to turn the page!” Solo grumbled with a frown. “You read too damn fast.”

You chuckled, a clever retort already on your tongue before you heard Jey’s bellow of alarm, followed by Jimmy’s maniacal laughter.

You and Solo were quick to abandon the book, making haste to the twins’ shared bathroom to see what all the commotion was about.

“What the actual fuck, man?!” Jey’s tone was indignant, completely naked as he fumbled with the towel he’d dropped in surprise.

Jimmy was too busy cackling, pointing childishly to his brother’s naked form.

“You should have seen your face!” He crowed, doubling over with laughter.

Jey already looked pissed, but once he saw you and Solo in the doorway his face went crimson. You let out a sigh, Jimmy’s loud laughter still echoing against the tile of the bathroom. There was a glint in Jey’s eye and you knew that this was just the beginning.

He was already plotting his revenge.

Tuesday

You didn’t think Jey would retaliate so quickly, but you couldn’t say you were surprised. Once the prank war started, things always got out of hand.

Roman and Paul were out, but the rest of you were in the living room eating dinner. Sami was sitting next to you on the couch, his leg pressed against yours as he showed you a video on his phone while Solo and Jimmy were talking. Meanwhile, Jey was leaning back in his chair, apparently scrolling on his phone.

Things seemed normal. Calm.

Jey eventually put his phone down and returned to his salad, easily joining the conversation with his brothers.

Nothing out of the ordinary.

Eventually Jimmy’s phone started to ding. You didn’t think anything about it at first, but the notifications kept coming, his phone continuing to light up and vibrate as more and more messages came in.

Jimmy noticed, setting down his bowl to pull his phone from his pocket. “The fuck?” He muttered, his fingers tapping on the screen to see what all the commotion was about.

“What is it, uce?” Jey’s voice held a teasing note and you were immediately suspicious.

Sami’s phone started to vibrate as well and you saw a few notifications pop up at the top of his screen, all of them from Twitter.

@CodyRhodes Looks like someone played too hard last night!

@AustinCreedWins Posting this online is diabolical

You watched as Sami clicked on them, pulling up a photo of Jimmy in bed asleep, a spoon hanging from his mouth and a cup of chocolate pudding in his hand. The caption read ‘Big bro caught lacking again’ and already had 800 likes, despite only being posted 3 minutes ago.

“Are you fucking serious?” Jimmy’s voice was scathing, his eyes narrowed as he looked up at his brother.

Jey’s smile was smug. “Hope it was worth it, uce.”

It was taking all of your willpower to avoid laughing, but Sami wasn’t helping, already covering his mouth to hide his giggles.

Jimmy sucked his teeth. “That’s cute.” He said, his eyes fiery. “But weak. You can’t do better than that?”

Jey shrugged, taking an innocent bite of his salad while you and Sami watched more notifications come in.

@RandyOrton 😴🍫

@FightOwensFight So this is why he’s slow as hell in the ring

Jimmy was typing furiously on his phone, still scowling. You saw Sami’s finger hover temptingly over the retweet button, casting you a conspiratorial glance.

“I’m not sure you want to get involved.” You whispered.

“Oh, come on.” Sami whispered back. “It can’t be that bad.”

“Did you change the fucking password to our Twitter account?” Jimmy’s voice was outraged and Sami quickly turned off his phone, the temptation gone.

Meanwhile Jey just sat there and smirked.

Wednesday

Soft sunlight filtered through the bedroom window, warming your cheek and slowly rousing you from slumber. You could feel Jey’s strong arms wrapped around you, his breath tickling the back of your neck as he kept you pulled close to his chest. You let out a contented sigh, snuggling closer to him and smiling as you felt him lean up to kiss your temple.

It wasn’t uncommon to wake up in someone else’s bed. You weren’t picky about where you slept and you tried to be fair, giving each of the brothers an equal amount of attention. Jey made it hard though. He was quick to whisk you away to his bedroom, often doing his best to monopolize your time whenever the Tribal Chief was gone or busy.

“Mornin’,” He rumbled, his voice still heavy with sleep.

“Morning.” You echoed, twisting around to face him. He always looked so beautiful like this, his brown eyes half-lidded and sleepy as he offered you a lazy smile.

“Sleep good?” He murmured and you nodded, smiling as he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips.

You quickly shied away, covering your mouth. “I don’t think you want all this. I haven’t brushed my teeth yet.”

Jey’s smile was a burst of sunshine. “I’ll survive.”

You relaxed as he kissed you again, his lips impossibly soft. You let out a hum of contentment and he pulled you closer, his hands warm against your bare skin. But when he moved his leg up to wrap around yours he immediately stopped, breaking away from the kiss to frown.

You stared at him. “What is it?”

Jey moved his leg around underneath the sheets, his brow furrowed. “This bed feel wet to you?”

Now it was your turn to frown, moving your legs around beneath the sheets to feel for yourself. The sheets did feel damp, especially near your feet.

You both leaned up at the same time to look and you couldn’t suppress a scream when you saw what was at the end of the bed.

It was a lobster.

A living, moving, wet lobster. The fucker was huge, rubber bands around his claws and his beady eyes staring at you. You continued to scream, pulling your legs up to your chest and pressing yourself against the headboard. Jey was so startled, both by the lobster and your screams that he jerked back, sitting up so quickly that he lost his balance. He fell off the bed, pulling the sheets, and the lobster, with him, where they landed on the floor with a loud thump!

You had enough courage to lean over the side of the bed and stare at Jey who was now sprawled out on the floor, his eyes wild.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” He swore, yanking at the tangled mess of sheets and blankets to look for the lobster, who was now drowning in a sea of cotton.

You heard the source of the laughter before you saw it, Jimmy’s guffaws giving away his position in the bathroom. He was crouched in the doorway like a gremlin, a shit-eating grin on his face as he continued to point and laugh at his brother.

“Oh my god, that was fucking priceless!” Jimmy could hardly get the words out, his smile so wide you could see all of his teeth. “I should have gotten that on video!”

Solo and Sami were quickly in the room, summoned by your screams and Jey’s cursing. Solo looked worried, though the worry quickly shifted to annoyance at the sight of his older brother laughing hysterically. Sami just looked confused.

“What happened?” He asked, his eyebrow raised at Jey. “What are you doing on the floor?”

Jey hurled a pillow at him. “You think I’m just chillin’ here, uce?” He snapped and Sami looked like he was trying not to laugh.

“Where is it?” You asked meekly.

“Where’s what?” asked Sami. He took a step forward and you raised your hand in a panic.

“No! Not another step!” You shrieked. “There’s a lobster in here!”

Sami immediately jumped back, staring at the jumbled sheets on the floor in confusion. There was a beat of silence before he finally said, “There’s a what in here?”

“Got it at the store this morning!” Jimmy sounded far too pleased with himself. “And if she hadn’t been in here,” He pointed at you. “I would have put it next to your face!”

Jey quickly stood, uncaring that he was naked or that there was a lobster somewhere lost in the room. He launched himself at his twin, the two of them tumbling to the ground, while Solo stared up at the ceiling in exasperation.

Thursday

Roman had insisted they take you out somewhere nice tonight. They had a big show tomorrow and you knew it would be some time before all of you could spend time together again. You were thrilled by the suggestion, smacking a huge kiss onto Roman’s cheek in your excitement when he’d told you the news.

It was the nicest restaurant in town, though you weren’t surprised. The Tribal Chief only took you to the finest places - nothing but the best for his girl. Roman had ensured that the seven of you had a private room, far away from the press and fans who seemed to follow them everywhere.

You sat beside Roman and Jimmy, watching with a smile as Paul told a particularly entertaining story about his ECW days.

You noticed Jimmy shift next to you, as if he were uncomfortable, reaching a hand up to tug at the collar of his shirt.

You leaned into his side. “Hey, you alright?”

Jimmy met your gaze with a distant smile. “Hm? Oh, yeah. It’s nothing.”

But clearly it wasn’t nothing. Jimmy continued to fidget uncomfortably, sweat beginning to bead on his forehead. He seemed unsure of what to do with his hands, often tugging on his shirt or pants while trying to be discreet. You leaned over, about to question him again, but he quickly got up and excused himself before you could, hardly tossing a backwards glance your way as he made a beeline for the bathroom.

You furrowed your brow in confusion, though the confusion was quickly cleared up when you met Jey’s triumphant gaze. He’d done something to his brother, that much was obvious, but you weren’t sure what.

You felt Roman’s hand on your thigh and you were reminded that the Tribal Chief knew nothing about the pranks going on between the twins. He hated them even more than you did and you knew that he would disapprove of the shenanigans, especially since he knew how quickly they escalated.

“Did Jimmy get lost?” Sami finally asked when Jimmy failed to return to the table. You were the only one to notice Jey’s smirk, though he quickly hid it by taking a sip of his drink.

“This is supposed to be a family outing.” Roman grumbled, his hand tightening against your thigh. You were quick to reassure him.

“I’m sure he’s fine,” You cooed, taking Roman’s hand in yours and rubbing your thumb across his knuckles. “Maybe he’s just feeling a little under the weather.”

Jimmy didn’t return to the table until well after the food arrived, his copper cheeks flushed red. You noticed that his forehead was still shining with sweat as he continued to fidget uncomfortably in his chair.

You reached out to take his hand and give it a squeeze, but he only offered you a weak smile in return.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” You whispered and Jimmy nodded quickly, focusing on his food to avoid your concerned gaze.

Eventually Jimmy’s fidgeting caught Roman’s attention. “What’s your problem?” The Tribal Chief demanded, causing Jimmy to drop his fork in surprise. The entire table went silent, everyone staring. Jimmy seemed flustered.

“Uh…nothing, uce. Whatchu mean?” Jimmy tried to play it off with a weak chuckle but was failing epically.

“Why can’t you sit still?” Roman’s tone was scathing. “We’re supposed to be out enjoying ourselves and you’re acting like it’s torture for you. Is going out really that big of a problem?”

“What? No!” Jimmy seemed alarmed. “No, I’m good, uce. I just think I might be allergic to our laundry detergent or something.”

Jey snorted in amusement but he quickly returned to his food when Roman looked at him.

You pressed a sweet kiss to Roman’s cheek. “It’s fine, baby,” You murmured, hoping to distract him from his growing irritation. “I’m having a good time. Did you enjoy your food?”

Roman gave one more annoyed look to Jimmy before he turned back to you, his gaze softening as he answered your question.

Jimmy slouched in his seat, relieved to no longer be under the Tribal Chief’s scrutiny, though he threw his twin a dirty look. Jey ignored him, resuming his conversation with Paul and Solo while Sami looked on with interest.

Eventually the dinner concluded, the seven of you walking back out to the parking lot. You stayed by the Tribal Chief’s side, though you didn’t miss Jimmy grabbing his brother’s arm, hissing into his ear, “What the fuck did you do to me?”

Jey’s grin was devious. “Did you know you could buy itching powder online? Me neither. Glad to see it worked so well.”

Jimmy was seething. “I’m gonna fucking kill you.”

But Jey just laughed.

Friday

The twins were in the living room, both of them lounging exhaustedly after a particularly brutal workout. They wanted to be sharp for the show tonight, especially since they were defending their tag team titles. You watched appreciatively as Jey leaned back in his chair, his crop top riding up to reveal his toned stomach and his long legs stretched out in front of him as he leaned back to close his eyes. Jimmy looked equally delicious, manspreading on the couch with his phone in hand, his long hair tied up in a bun.

You stopped in front of them, clutching your back with a bit more drama than you usually did.

“Oh, god,” you moaned, rubbing your lower back as if you were in pain. “What the hell have I done to it?”

The twins materialized at your side, their hands immediately on you.

“You alright, pretty girl?” Jimmy seemed concerned, his hands warm as he reached under your shirt to feel the muscles of your back. You hissed dramatically as he touched you and Jey took a step back.

“What is it?” Jey asked, his tone worried. He was reaching for his phone. “Do I need to call one of the trainers up here?”

“No, no.” You waved your hand dismissively. “No, I think I just need you to pop my back.”

The twins had done it a million times before, their strong arms able to lift you with ease to pop your back whenever you had pain.

Jimmy’s arms were around you instantly, pulling you backwards against him so he could lift you.

“Ready?” he asked and you nodded.

He lifted and your feet left the ground. That’s when you did it. You’d hidden two pieces of uncooked pasta in your teeth and you quickly bit down on them as Jimmy lifted you up, simulating the sound of bones cracking.

You immediately went limp, closing your eyes as you allowed your body to collapse.

“What the fuck?!” Jey’s voice was panicked, someone’s hands on you to keep you from falling to the floor. You felt a warm hand cradling your neck, someone’s breath against your cheek.

“Oh my fucking god!” Jimmy’s voice was equally panicked, his hands roaming you. “I didn’t…I didn’t think I-”

“What the hell did you do?” Jey bellowed, more hands on you as the two shuffled above your limp body.

“Babe, open your eyes!” Jimmy sounded distressed. “Oh my god, what the fuck…”

You didn’t actually want to torture them so you quickly opened your eyes with a wide grin. The twins were kneeling over you, both of them staring down at you in a weird mixture of shock and panic.

“Surprise!” You garbled, spitting out the uncooked pasta just to watch the twins’ eyes widen in realization. “I’m not dead!”

Jimmy’s mouth fell open. “You…”

“What the actual fuck?” Jey demanded, still angry and running high on adrenaline. “Why’d you do that?”

You sat up, trying to suppress your laughter. “To prove that pranks are stupid.” You told them, giving them a knowing look. “And to beg both of you to stop with the prank war before someone really does get hurt.”

Jimmy closed his mouth, his pupils still dilated from the near heart attack you’d almost given him. Meanwhile, his twin was still huffing and puffing, his brow furrowed as he looked down at you.

There was a beat of silence and you stood up, the twins quickly following in suit.

“I mean it.” You told them, your gaze at them now serious. “The last time you got involved in a prank war you almost burned down a hotel and wasted hundreds of dollars on a cement truck. Hell, I don’t even know what the cement truck was for. All I know is that we don’t need to go in that direction again. You're both even now. 2 for 2. So let’s agree to just end it here. Okay?”

There was a long silence. The twins looked at each other, then back at you. You could tell they didn’t want to, but you refused to give in, raising an eyebrow at them.

“Okay?”

The twins finally nodded, though they still refused to look at each other. You frowned.

“Good. Now hug it out.”

The twins stared at you incredulously, already beginning to protest.

“Come on…we agreed to stop, ain’t that enough?”

“I ain’t gonna hug Mr. Ugly, are you crazy?”

You held up your hand. “Hug it out or no blowjobs for a week.”

The twins’ arms were around each other so fast you couldn’t help but laugh.

Game Night

I ain’t ever playing wit yo’ cheatin’ ass again!

Cheating? Just admit you suck, uce.

You one to talk. Didn’t Solo take half of yo’ last paycheck?

Oh, you got jokes now, huh? Rich comin’ from you after Roman done took every penny to your name.

How ‘bout I come over there and knock that disrespect out yo’ mouth?

That was how poker night had ended last time. Had the Tribal Chief not intervened, the twins would have come to blows right there in the living room. After pulling them apart, Roman had sworn up and down that poker was officially banned and that they would not be doing this again.

Unfortunately, Roman was full of shit.

It didn’t matter how horrible the last poker night ended, they would still somehow always end up back here: gathered around the dining room table, beers in hand, and loud music in the background. No matter how strict Roman pretended to be he was just as weak as his cousins when it came to gambling. You couldn’t be sure exactly why, though you suspected that it might be because he was actually good at it. He almost always won, no matter how hard his younger cousins worked to take his money.

Even now as he kept you perched in his lap, his hand curled possessively on your thigh, you could see him holding the winning hand. You couldn’t help but smile, leaning back to pepper his neck with kisses. You heard his chuckle rumble in the large expanse of his chest, his lips soft as he kissed your cheek.

“Come on, y’all. We ain’t doin’ dinner and a show.” Jimmy’s words were annoyed, but his tone was playful as he eyed you in his Chief’s lap. You saw the way his eyes traveled down to your exposed breasts, his eyes filled with want. He was waiting for you to give up Roman’s lap for his. Which you had considered. But for now you were more than happy to stay in the Tribal Chief’s lap, his hands warm against your bare skin.

“What do you think, pretty girl?” Roman asked, his tone knowing. “Should I raise?”

You grinned up at him, nuzzling against his soft beard. “Mm hm. I think so, Daddy.”

“Well, you heard her, boys.” The Tribal Chief said, pushing his chips to the middle of the table.

You watched as Jey frowned, his eyes scanning his own cards. You’d told him a million times to work on his poker face but nothing ever changed. He still wore his heart on his sleeve, every thought still on his face no matter how hard he tried to hide it. It was one of the things you loved about him, even if it did cause him to lose every hand of poker he ever played.

Solo, on the other hand, was a professional. His stoic nature was both his weapon and his shield. In all their years of playing poker together, Solo was the only one to ever take any serious cash from his older cousin, much to Roman’s chagrin. Perhaps he’d win again tonight, his stony face giving nothing away.

While Jimmy was certainly better than his twin at hiding his emotions, he had tics - dead giveaways that you were quick to learn. His cocky attitude wasn’t nearly as effective as his younger brother’s stoicism and you could always read his eyes, no matter how much bravado he put on.

Sami was a bit more difficult to read. He was new to the game and he had been timid so far, folding every chance he got without taking any real risks. You wondered what Roman thought about it, though you didn’t get a chance to ask, his hand slapping your ass to urge you up.

“Grab me another beer, will ya, baby?”

The Tribal Chief’s words were commanding and you were eager to obey. “Yes, Daddy.” You murmured, pressing another kiss to his cheek before heading to the kitchen.

You tried to suppress a smile as the entire table leaned forward to watch you walk away. Roman really thought he was slick, but you knew him too well. He’d used you as a distraction. And his family had fallen for the bait.

You weren’t sure exactly what happened while your back was turned, but you heard a loud cacophony of groans and yells, no doubt indicating that the Tribal Chief had won. Again.

“Man, this some bullshit!”

“Jesus, we can’t catch a single break.”

“Damn, Sami, you gonna do somethin’ tonight, or what?”

“Hey! I’ve been dealt nothing but crappy cards!”

You returned with the Tribal Chief’s beer, smiling as he kissed your knuckles in gratitude. He didn’t urge you to sit back down in his lap, which you took as a sign that he was comfortable with you offering your attention elsewhere.

You looked up and immediately met Jimmy’s hungry gaze again. He’d been waiting for you for a while now and you knew you couldn’t deny him, making your way to his side and allowing him to pull you into his lap.

His arms were wrapped around you instantly, his lips attached to your neck as he pressed kisses there. You couldn’t help but giggle, your laughter causing him to smile against you.

“Sweet girl,” he murmured. It was his favorite thing to call you. “Love it when you sit with me.”

You leaned back against him, pulling your legs up to curl contently in his lap like a lazy housecat. “Love it when you hold me.” You returned, nuzzling into his beard as he leaned forward to grab the cards that Solo had dealt.

You didn’t miss the way Jey’s eyes flashed over to you, his emotions once again written all over his face. He was jealous, despite the fact that he had bent you over the kitchen counter no more than an hour ago. The man was insatiable. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the younger twin, throwing him a cheeky wink just to watch him squirm.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Jimmy’s voice was smug. He’d noticed his twin’s jealousy too. “Got the prettiest girl in the world in my lap, don’t I? Too bad she don’t wanna sit with you.”

A splotch of color dotted Jey’s cheeks. “She only sittin’ with you ‘cause you need a handicap.” He grumbled, causing Jimmy to throw back his head and laugh.

“Don’t be mean,” You chided Jimmy, your fingers curling in the soft fabric of his shirt. “Or else I’ll get up.”

Jimmy’s grip tightened against you. “Oh, you ain’t goin’ anywhere, babygirl.” His words sent a shiver down your spine.

He held up his cards to you but you didn’t care much about them, opting instead to press your face to his chest and close your eyes.

You heard the others talking amongst themselves, but you felt lost in Jimmy’s touch, practically purring as he stroked your soft skin. You felt him slide his hand down your thigh, his hand resting dangerously close to your already leaking pussy. You felt your breath stutter, instinctively opening your legs just a little further to grant him access.

To the table, Jimmy announced, “Call!” and threw some of his chips into the pot. Meanwhile, his hand continued to creep further between your legs, your eyelids fluttering at the feeling. And when he found the wetness there it took all of your willpower not to moan lest you distract from the game.

“Still soaked, baby?” Jimmy had been the one to catch Jey fucking you in the kitchen. “Or is it just me that you all wet for?”

You reached out and grabbed his wrist, holding it like a lifeline. “Just…just you.” You stuttered, your hips instinctively pushing back to find the erection Jimmy was hiding in his sweatpants.

Jimmy chuckled, still completely in control as he dipped his fingers in between your folds, playing with you.

“Call.” Solo said gruffly, his eyes meeting yours across the table. He was always so difficult to read, but you could have sworn you saw the barest twinkle of amusement in his eyes as he looked on, knowing exactly what his older brother was doing to you under the table.

“Five.” Roman put in his bet. Sami folded. Jey raised. You leaned further into Jimmy’s touch, forcing yourself to keep still as one of his long fingers reached further down to tease at your empty hole.

“What do you think, sweetheart?” Jimmy asked you, but you were playing a different game, pressing open-mouthed kisses to his neck as he kept his movements slow between your legs. Jimmy chuckled darkly, his lips brushing across your forehead.

“Guess I’ll call then.”

He leaned up to place his bet and you felt his erection dig deeper into your backside, your pussy spasming at the feeling. Jimmy smirked against your shoulder as he pressed a kiss there, his breath warm against your ear.

“Such a needy little thing,” he cooed, keeping his voice low as his brothers began to argue. “Need me to take care of you, baby?”

You nodded into his neck, your cheeks flushed as you met the Tribal Chief’s amused gaze. He seemed entertained watching you try to sit still in Jimmy’s lap, his eyes traveling down to where Jimmy was keeping a possessive grip between your legs. He smirked at the sight and you wondered exactly what he was thinking.

The final card came out and you glanced at Jimmy’s hand. He had nothing.

Still, the older twin’s face gave nothing away, his fingers continuing to glide through your soaked folds as he kept you close. You could feel warmth pooling at the base of your spine, goosebumps exploding across your skin as Jimmy’s beard brushed against the back of your neck.

There was a silence around the table and you realized that someone had asked Jimmy a question. They wanted to know if he was still in.

Jimmy chuckled against your ear. “I’ll let our pretty girl decide.” His finger dipped into your leaking hole and you couldn’t take it anymore.

“He folds.”

You heard laughter from the rest of the table as you grabbed Jimmy by his shirt and dragged him to the closest bedroom, though you didn’t miss the way Jey’s eyes followed the two of you, his expression hungry.

Jimmy kicked the door shut behind you, still chuckling as your frenzied hands tugged his clothes from him.

“Need me that bad, honey?” He sounded smug and it would have annoyed you if it didn’t turn you on so fucking much.

“I do,” You were too horny to be embarrassed about how desperate you sounded. “Need you so bad.”

Jimmy’s eyes darkened at your words and before you realized what was happening he was picking you up with ease, throwing you onto the bed.

His body was on yours in an instant, his lips latched onto your neck with such ferocity that you felt your back arch at the feeling, the pain and pleasure sending more warmth between your legs.

You felt his cock nudge against your entrance and your legs parted easily for him, soft whimpers falling from your lips.

“Such a slut for me, ain’t you, baby?”

You nodded, willing to agree to anything if he would just fuck you right now. Jimmy leaned up to look at you, his chain dangling above your nose.

“Beg me to fuck you.” He commanded, ignoring your gasp of surprise as he flipped you onto your stomach with ease. “Beg me to fuck you and if you sound pathetic enough maybe I’ll consider it.”

He was so full of shit. He was just as desperate as you, his cock rock-hard as he pressed against your backside. Still, you didn’t hesitate to obey, every thought in your brain focused on him.

“Please, sir, please.” You begged, the honorific rolling off your tongue with ease. You knew it drove him crazy. “Please fuck me, sir. I need it. I need you.”

Jimmy chuckled darkly, landing a harsh swat against your ass just to watch you jump.

“Keep going. I want to hear more.”

You wriggled your hips pathetically beneath his strong hands and he smacked your ass again. “Don’t be greedy,” he admonished, his voice rough. “Keep talkin’, slut. Let me hear it.”

You looked over your shoulder at him, desperate tears forming in your eyes. His eyes were dark, looking far too close to a predator surveying his prey, and you shivered.

“Please, sir. I need you to fuck me.” You sniffled, arching your back to present yourself to him. “I need you to claim me. Make me yours. Please, sir, I need it so bad.”

The tears started falling and Jimmy seemed pleased.

“Good girl,” he cooed, his cock beginning to push through your soaked folds. “It’s alright, baby. I’ll give you what you need. And you need it bad, don’t you, honey?”

You nodded, letting out a hiss as he pushed deeper into you, your body struggling to adjust to his size.

“Jesus, you stranglin’ my cock, little girl.” Jimmy groaned, placing his hand between your shoulder blades to push you down into the mattress. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of your hips and you knew it would leave bruises. “So fucking tight. Practically sucking me in.”

You whined beneath him, your body beginning to tremble with need as he filled you so perfectly.

He bottomed out and you almost sobbed from pleasure. You could feel him brushing against that sweet spot inside of you, this angle keeping him lodged so deep that you felt it in the back of your throat.

“Sir, please-”

You could hardly get the sentence out before Jimmy pulled out and slammed back into you, the movement so rough that you felt yourself being shoved back into the mattress.

“Yeah, that’s it, slut,” Jimmy moaned, his hips picking up speed as he thrust into you. He reached out and tangled his fingers into your hair, yanking at it so that your back could arch even more against him. “Take it all. You can do it, baby. I gotchu.”

His sweet words, so at odds with the brutal way he was fucking you, sent you into a haze, pleasure spreading across your body like wildfire.

Jimmy slapped your ass again and the sharp pain had you moaning, your pussy spasming around his massive length.

“Oh, you like that shit, huh?” Jimmy’s words were scalding you from the inside out, your cheeks burning as he continued to tug on your hair. “Like it when I rough you up?”

You tried to nod but Jimmy’s grip on your hair made it impossible. Jimmy laughed and the sound was mean.

“That’s okay, baby. I can give you whatchu want.”

He shifted the angle of his hips and you let out a strangled scream, his cock now hitting your g-spot with devastating accuracy. A few more slaps against your ass had you crying, the pleasure so good that it was threatening to overwhelm you.

“Please, sir.” You sobbed, barely able to keep your eyes open as he continued to hammer into you. “Please, can I come?”

“Come on this dick, slut.”

You lost all control of yourself, your muscles tensing as the powerful orgasm wracked your body. Jimmy’s tight grip on your hair kept you from fully collapsing on the bed, your pussy continuing to spasm and convulse around Jimmy’s massive cock.

“That’s it, baby,” he gasped, his hips stuttering against yours. “Such a good girl.”

He pulled out so suddenly that you choked on a sob, your body shivering at the sudden feeling of emptiness. Jimmy smacked your ass one final time before he came, thick ropes of come painting your ass and thighs.

Jimmy let out a contented sigh, slowly releasing his tight grip on your hair to allow you to collapse onto the bed.

"Shhh, it's alright, honey," Jimmy cooed, moving to your side so he could kiss your forehead. "You did so good, baby."

You felt goosebumps prickle at your exposed skin, shivering again as your body came down from its high.

Jimmy noticed, quickly wiping you down with his discarded shirt so he could cover with you a blanket, crawling beneath the covers to join you.

You let out a sigh of your own as Jimmy pulled you close, the feeling of his strong body beneath you keeping you grounded. Jimmy continued to whisper sweet praises in your ear as he stroked your hair, his lips soft as he kissed your tear-streaked face.

Jimmy suddenly looked around, as if he were just now figuring out his surroundings. "Ain't we in Jey's room?"

You looked around too, letting out a small huff laughter at the realization. "Looks like it."

"Hm. He ain't gonna be happy about that."

You smiled, pressing adoring kisses beneath Jimmy's jaw. "He'll get over it."

_____________

next part: valentine's day (solo)

previous part: bloodline property (part four)

besties: @mindairy @amandairene88 @askullasunflower @acute-crashout-jeyuso @partypoison00 @brianochka @femdisa @luvrsluxe @zephyrazzz @scorpiochaos @gardencottage

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readwritealldayallnight · 6 months ago

Text

Right With You (Part 3)

Captain John Price x Reader

wc: 6.7k words

(18+ MDNI) warnings/tags: fluff, mutual pining, tension, smut, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, no protection (use protection kids!!), finishing inside🫣

You might have bitten off more than you could chew this time.

The sound of your heels clicking and clacking against the marble floor are completely drowned out by the din of the many hundreds of party goers mingling throughout the lavish ballroom, glasses clinking together in cheers, uproarious laughter bellowing out between songs being played by the live musicians. The outskirts of the room are difficult to maneuver without bumping into one another, as the centre of the space has been cleared for dancing.

You’ve been inside the target’s home for all of five minutes and you’re already feeling like you’re way in over your head. You know that amongst the elegantly dressed men and women, there are people here on your side, posing as guests but keeping an eye out for your safety. They’re connected to the comms, as are the approaching men of the 141, intent on finding their own way in as well.

You should really only be using your earpiece if you have no other choice, the whole point of this operation being to go as undetected as possible. If a scene can avoid being made altogether, all the better. You know better than anyone that if John the men hear you sounding anything other than confident over the line, they’ll be barging in, stealth be damned. Right now however, you’re almost wishing you could use it if only to get some help in spotting your target amongst all the moving faces.

Before either of you had even had the mansion in sight, John was directed to pull the car into the long queue of vehicles slowly making their way in the direction of the actual driveway. He’d sent you a glance in the rear view mirror, his eyes betraying the gears that were already beginning to turn in his mind. There might be more people in attendance tonight than expected.

“You’re trying to tell me all these people are also fashionably late?” You’d question, eyeing the long line of fancy cars in front of you, another one having already pulled in behind you. You were purposefully showing up several hours after the party began, the more guests there were there the easier you could blend in. And the later the party, the more intoxicated and distracted party goes would be. But this seemed like a lot of people to still be showing up considering the increasingly late hour.

“I think there might be a guest list we don’ know about.” He had gritted out, gripping the steering wheel with more force. “Or they’re lettin’ any fuckin’ muppet walk in-”

“John,” you’d cut him off. “It’s fine, this doesn’t change anything. Might just take me longer to spot him, but we’ll manage.”

“Gonna be harder for ‘em to keep sights on ya.”

“Well then when I need help I’ll be sure to wave a hand up in the air so they can see me.” You had attempted to joke, but you’d spotted the near imperceptible narrowing of his eyes in your direction. “John, they are there as a precaution. I won’t even need ‘em, you’ll see. What? Unless you don’t believe that I can seduce a man?”

Though he had only been moving at a snails pace with the cars still ahead of him, the mansion only then coming into view around the bend, John slammed on the breaks, lurching you forward ever so slightly at the sudden stop.

“Seducing is not your job tonight.” His knuckles had gone white he gripped the steering wheel so tight before he’d released his death grip, rubbing his eyes in exasperation. “You are a soldier, that’s the only job you’ll do tonight.”

“My superiors have asked me to sneak into a party, discreetly convince a man to follow me to a room alone together, and gave me this to wear as gear.” You emphasized, waving a hand down at your attire. He didn’t want to take the bait, but while you’re in that dress and close enough he can smell the sweet smell of your perfume, he’s a weaker man then he’d like to admit. He glanced down at your figure, admiring not of the first time tonight how utterly ravishing you appear.

You weren’t trying to complain, you yourself had agreed that the plan made sense, but you also wanted him to be realistic here. The expectation was that you were going to get the target alone, as subtly as possible, whatever means necessary. At the very least you were going to be flirting and flattering your ass off tonight.

Undoing your seatbelt, you’d sat on the edge of your seat, inching closer to John in the driver’s spot, leaning in until your painted lips were mere millimeters from his ear, a soft hand landing on his shoulder.

“Orders are orders, after all.” Your lips barely grazed the shell of his ear as you whispered to him, trying to disperse his worries with your teasing. “I would never want to disobey my Captain.”

He’d let out a long, deep sigh through his flared nostrils, the internal conflict within him raging on. You were right, as odd as the circumstances of this mission were, it was nothing more than exactly that, another mission. They’d each been tasked with a job to do, and he knew that as with everything you set your mind to, you’d blow them all away.

As a Captain, he had full confidence in you as a soldier. But as nothing more than simply a man, who so rarely in his life allowed himself to be selfish and do something for no reason other than his own self centred wishes, a man who could no longer deny the way he was falling madly, deeply, irrevocably in love with a woman, well that man despised tonight’s plan.

The extravagant front entry of the target’s home was now within sight, multiple footmen waiting by to open the doors to arriving vehicles, welcoming guests and taking names. John knew you didn’t have much longer now before he’d have to let you go.

One of his hands snuck up to reach for yours, still laying as a delicately as a butterfly perched on his shoulder. His fingers gave yours a squeeze, thumb gently stroking the soft skin of your inner wrist.

While the thought of anyone other than him having the privilege of seeing you dressed up to the nines, getting to chat you up, putting his hands on you all under the guise of a respectable dance, got his blood boiling, he could never, would never ask you to go against your job.

Not for him, not for anyone. You were more than capable and had earned your position on this team. He wasn’t going to allow his rose tinted glasses to cloud his judgement, not even when the animalistic, testosterone raging, possessive side of him was pleading for the opposite.

“Well then your Captain’s orders, my dear,” he says in a low voice, stretching your hand far enough to plant a kiss onto it, unable to help himself really. “Are to knock ‘em dead. Not literally though, we do have questions for ‘im.”

You offered him a genuine smile, hearing the playfulness returning to his tone. Begrudgingly releasing your hand from his hold, John steered the car directly in front of the door, the heavy tint of the windows concealing him from any prying eyes.

“Sooner I’m in, sooner I’m out.” You reassured him. “Maybe I’ll have time to save you a dance.” You added at the end, catching his eye on final time, returning his nod subtle nod in the mirror just as your door was opened for you. As the footman offered you his hand, helping you out of the car and shutting the door behind you, John kept is gaze trained on you, not driving away until he saw you disappear through the doors, already counting down the seconds until he had you with him again.

A fake name given at the door, slightly modified version of the guest list having been slipped into the security’s grip earlier that evening, and you were allowed into the party without a second glance. Getting in was never going to be the challenging part of this operation. The challenge now was in spotting your target amongst the crowd.

Having decided the ballroom would likely be the best place to start, seeing as this was where the most people seemed to be gathering, you slowly strolled through the swarms of dresses and suits, wondering to yourself just how many of these people were involved in illegal affairs, and how many were feigning ignorance to their hosts choice of career.

Plucking a drink off the tray of a passing waiter, you brought the glass to your lips, taking the opportunity to more carefully glance through the many unknown faces. You manage to hide your grimace when a scratching noise comes through your earpiece for a moment, before a familiar Manchester accent crackles instead.

“Bravo 7 to Rookie. We’re in.” Ghost informs you. “Second floor. East wing. Guest room by the library.”

“We’ll cover the west side. Aim at taking the office on that end.” You’re less subtle at covering up the small gasp that slips from your mouth at the sound of John’s voice coming through the line. Clearing your throat, you take a small sip of whatever liquid you’ve grabbed, spotting another strolling waiter, sauntering over to her.

“Good, thank you.” You say, returning your still nearly full glass to her, speaking more in response to the men chatting in your ear than to the confused looking woman, who still smiles politely and takes the drink from you.

Knowing that the 141 are inside now, you go over the blueprints again in your mind, picturing where they are, taking a deep breath to steel yourself as you continue your search. Continuously bumping elbows with everyone gathered on the edges on the ballroom, yours and many others heads turn when a large group of gathered men all burst into uproarious laughter. Scanning the faces of the well-dressed guests, you nearly do a double take, eyes landing on the face you’ve spent countless hours memorizing.

Your target is stood there, one arm holding onto his friends shoulder as he continues to laugh in the way only rich men with no problems can. He and his friends are evidently intoxicated, each with a drink in hand, if not two. The man stood directly in front of him is telling the apparently hilarious story, hands waving about as he animatedly gestures, alcohol sloshing out of his glass.

An idea comes to mind, and you see your opportunity present itself before you on a golden platter. Slipping through the crowd, you come around the other side, so that you’re walking in your target’s direction, in his line of sight. You purposefully slow down your gait, running a hand through your hair carelessly, eyes gazing about the room absentmindedly, you even slightly push your chest out, catching the man’s eye just as you come close to walking past his friend.

The drunk man continues to flail his arms and spill his drink carelessly, larger and larger spills landing on the marble floor. It looks purely accidental to anyone watching when you attempt to walk by him, his arm knocking you off balance, and your heeled foot slipping on his spilled alcohol. Luckily, someone catches you before you fall to the ground, a few small gasps ringing out front the people around you who notice your fall.

“You alright ma’am?” You look up at the man who caught you, wearing what appears to be an embarrassed smile when in actually is your attempt to conceal your satisfied smirk, glancing up at none other than your target.

“Oh! Well, suppose I am better now.” You murmur with a small giggle tacked on at the end just for show. Based off the way this man’s eyes have yet to meet your face, gazing down only at your chest, you’re thinking this whole plan is about to be a lot easier than anyone anticipated.

“Sound like she’s made contact.” You hear Soap’s accent ring out through the earpiece.

Oh, right. They get to listen in on your interaction with the target thanks to the open comm line on your end. Good, in the sense that they’ll know which direction you’re headed in and will be ready, not so good, in the sense that John is about to overhear every word of your faux flirting.

“You’ll have to excuse my friend,” he finally breaks eye contact with your cleavage and pulls you up to stand, noticeably keeping his touch on you. “We were just cutting him off for the night, in fact, but are you sure you’re alright?”

He’s got one hand on your waist, the other is holding onto you elbow to steady you. You open your mouth to politely insist again that you’re okay, when he interrupts.

“Please, allow me to get you a drink. The very least I can do.” He implores, hardly waiting for your reply before he begins to lead you by the arm, in search of said refreshment.

“I don’t believe we’ve met before.” You say to him, batting your eyelashes at him when he offers you a glance.

“Trust me darling, I would remember meeting someone like you.” He doesn’t even attempt to hide the way he scans you up and down, ogling every bit of skin that your dress reveals, leaving you feeling exposed, though you hide any trace of discomfort behind a flirtatious facade.

“Someone like me?” You question coyly.

Your new friend walks you into an adjoining room where a bartender is mixing drinks for the dozens of people milling about the space. Sliding up to the edge of the bar, he leans against the bar top and signals to the man working.

“Certainly you must know how, appetizing you look this evening.” Your face does not betray the way his words make you groan internally, fighting not to roll your eyes. The bartender approaches, and as your target is distracted for a moment, you glance at the new space, spotting a staircase leading to the second floor not far around the corner. With how easy everything has been thus far, you wonder if you’re pushing your luck by trying to expedite the process even further.

As the target turns his attention back to you, beginning to introduce himself, you bring a hand to your forehead, interrupting him.

“I’m sorry, I’m starting to feel a bit dizzy actually.” You say, shaking your head when he sets the drinks down and goes to pull out a bar stool for you. “You wouldn’t know of anywhere you could help me sit down, would you?” You slowly reach a hand out, to stroke his hand. “Somewhere you could help me lay down, maybe?”

You watch the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows harshly, eyes widening slightly in surprise at your suggestion, before quickly turning to excitement.

“Lucky for you ma’am, I’m good friends with our host tonight.” He snakes an arm around your waist, drinks long forgotten, and you’re relieved when you see he’s leading you towards the very staircase you were hoping he would take. “I know just the place.”

“Are we allowed to go upstairs?” You giggle obnoxiously, letting your men know that you and the target are on the move.

“Copy. Target’s headed for second level.” Ghost acknowledges over the line. As you come to the top of the staircase, blueprints sprawling through your head to picture where your teammates are currently placed, you realize that against your better odds, he doesn’t try to lead you towards either the east or west wing.

“Like I said princess, you’re in good hands.” Instead of leading you towards the 141, your prince charming is supposedly headed towards the washroom at the top of the landing, exactly in the middle ground where your team could not go, due to the handful of security guards patrolling the hallways. You’ve no doubt that in each of the rooms that the men were waiting for you in, there likely lay a few injured guards that had been tasked with watching those unfortunate quarters.

You knew your luck was going to run out eventually, but now you had to think fast and on your feet. Sliding out of the man’s grasp, you took a step away from him, tracing a finger along the bannister in a way you hoped came across as seductive.

“I don’t know. I feel like maybe I’ve been a bit too easy on you.” You wink for added emphasis that you’re trying to toy with him now. “I don’t even know your name.”

“Nor do I know yours.” He tried to challenge, raising a brow at your behaviour, though still slowly stalking towards you, not yet willing to let you go. “We do not need names to be friends, do we?”

“How do I know what kind of man you are, hm?” You question him, continuing your slow walk backwards, eyes scanning the room and you realize you’re slinking towards the west wing. Price and Gaz. They said they would be in the office in the west wing. You just have to get him there.

“I did help you just now, did I not? I believe I am a good man. Let me show you how good I can be.”

“And if I wasn’t looking for a good man? What then, hm?” He halts momentarily in his steps as he continues to follow you in what he believes is a game of playful banter, foreplay if he’s lucky. You’ve spotted a total of three guards so far, though none of them are very near this moment. Making up your mind, you steady yourself as you say, “What if I wanted someone who would chase me?”

Still keeping him in sight, you quicken your pace, hoping that he really will gave chase to you, allowing you to lead him like a fly to a trap.

“Whatever the lady wants.” He humours you, following you when you break into a sprint without hesitation, hoping your memory is doing you justice and the door you’re headed towards is indeed the one concealing one half of the 141. The sound of both your pairs of footsteps echoing down the corridor, you’re gripping the door handle the moment it’s within reach, turning to glance over your shoulder, seeing your target is only a few paces behind you.

You shove the door open with your shoulder, and just as you’d planned in all those briefings, you enter the room, grip never leaving the door, allowing the target to follow you in, and shut the door behind you, revealing the two large men who’d been hiding behind it, now with guns trained on the man before them. Before he even realizes what’s happening, Price has got him knocked out cold, hitting him with the blunt end of his weapon, letting his body crumple to the ground where he falls unconscious on the spot.

You’re thinking up a clever response to say about how easy this mission has been, before either of them can beat you to it, when your earpieces all buzz apiece.

“Alpha 5 to Bravo 6. Over.”

“Go for Bravo.” Price replies, pressing his finger to his ear, stepping over the unconscious target to come closer to you. Gaz has crouched down, examining the target, preparing to restrain him for transport back to base.

“Guards saw a woman get chased by a man on the second floor. They’ve sent someone to check it out, you’ve got one headed your way now. Less than 30 seconds.”

At those words, the three of you are glancing at each other, before Price is already acting.

“Garrick, help me get his jacket off then get him out of sight.” He orders his sergeant, who without question begins assisting the captain in removing the target’s suit jacket, before dragging the unconscious man towards the window they had apparently entered from. To your utter bewilderment, Price’s fingers then begin working speedily at his own tactical vest, pulling it over his head and off of himself, tossing it in Gaz’s direction.

“What are you doing?” You ask him, half wondering if he’s forgotten you can’t actually read his mind. He’s continuing to pull weapons off of himself until there’s nothing left, leaving them with Gaz.

“Guards saw two people walk in here, then two people will walk out.” He says, slipping the man’s jacket on over his shoulders. Price’s shoulders are without a doubt wider and bulkier, the sit being too small, but it’s not so bad that he looks outright odd. “Trust me here, love.” He asks of you, receiving a nod from your part instantly.

All in the blink of an eye, Gaz has tossed the equipment out the open window, and is carrying the unconscious target over his shoulder as he slips out that same window and vanishes out of sight. The door to the room is being tossed open, and John is grabbing you with a force you haven’t personally felt from him before. One of his large hands is in your hair, the other is grabbing the fat of your ass, and he pulls you flush against his own body, sealing his warm lips to yours in a kiss so passionate, so needy, it knocks the breath out of you.

“Oy!” The guard shouts at you two. “Fuck are you twos doing up here?”

“Sorry ‘bout that, mate.” John breaks the kiss, before he answers apologetically, holding a single hand up in peace, the other keeping its tight grip on your behind. “The missus got a little eager. We’ll get going, don’t mean to be any trouble.”

Playing the part of a couple nearly caught in the act, John takes ahold of your hand and keeps his head ducked as he quickly leads you towards the door. You squeak out your own bashful ‘Sorry!’ as you step past the man, following along with John in your feigned shame at being caught. Your mind was absolutely reeling with all the adrenaline of the last five minutes coursing through your veins, your captain holding you against his muscled body being at the top of your list.

“Now hold on just a minute-” the guard tries to shout after you both, taking notice of John’s unusual appearance compared to the other well dressed men walking about, but the pair of you are hurriedly making your way towards your escape.

“Stay with me now.” Price gave your hand a reassuring squeeze as he keeps a steady pace down the hall, headed for the staircase, intent on making a swift exit.

“Bravo 6 to Bravo 7. Slight change o’ plans. Garrick’s got our target. Help ‘em get to the rendezvous point and Rookie and I’ll meet you there.” John hurriedly mumbles under his breath, placing a steadying hand on the small of your back as you begin to descend the steps.

“Copy. Out here.” The Lieutenant replies diligently.

“Nicely done, Rookie. Think that’s record time.” You hear Soap’s playful tone come through the earpiece.

“We’re not clear yet, Sergeant. Stay alert.” Price tells him as you both land back on the bottom step. With the guards now on higher alert, one likely still hot on your heels, you need to blend back in with the crowd before sneaking your way towards the first convenient exit, still keen on avoiding drawing any further attention to yourselves. With all the confidence in the world, your captains steady hand leads you back through the bar and into the still crowded ballroom, musicians instruments playing with an much enthusiasm as they had before.

John’s keen eyes spot the handful of security patrolling the room with their gazes scanning the crowd. Turning to face you now, John brings your clasped hands up higher, placing your free hand on his shoulder before landing his own palm on the small of your waist.

“John, what are we-” Your words are cut off as you recognize he’s placed you both in the familiar position for a waltz, your eyes looking up into his own with questions unspoken.

“Follow my lead.” He whispers to you so softly that you nearly miss it with the sound of the music picking back up. You don’t even need to answer him before your body is instinctually doing just that, following his lead as he begins to softly move to the beat of the song.

Your eyes never break apart from one another, gazes locked in their own private choreographed moment as the captain smoothly dances with you from one end of the room to the other, going unnoticed amongst the swarms of other dancing couples. His hold on you is searing hot, sending sparks shooting though every nerve receptor he touches. He’s feeling just as affected by you, his heart hammering in his chest so strongly he’s certain you must be able to feel it against your own sternum.

Spinning you close enough to the edge of the ballroom that the front entry is once again in sight, John needs only cast a glance to the door for you to understand his message, gripping your clasped hands tighter together. You offer him a small smile and nod in agreement, letting him know that yes, you’ll follow him anywhere.

“You should be sleeping. Sun’ll be up soon.”

You’re holding a steaming cup of tea in hand, one hand on your hip with a look on your face that says ‘Really?’ pointed at your captain who has yet to leave his office since you’d all returned from the mission hours ago. You slowly approach his desk, your feet eternally thankful for the comfort of your boots over the heels you’d ripped off. In the time since you’ve returned to base, the target’s been secured, you were all dismissed for the night as well as the following day, considering it already was the early morning hours of the next day. You’d combed your hair out of his hair sprayed style, wiped all traces of makeup off your face, intent on following your captain’s orders and making your way to bed.

“I won’t even bother telling you the same. Both know you wouldn’t listen.” You set the mug down on his desk for him, your hand lingering along the surface of the wooden top.

“Thank you.” He smiles gratefully up at you from his seat, genuinely appreciative of your thoughtful gesture at this late hour. “Though, think I’ve heard the lads arguin’ once or twice ‘bout how you’re the only one I do listen to.” John’s smile widens as he notices the faint blush creeping along the apples of your cheeks.

“Well,” you playfully rolls your eyes at his comment, coming to step nearer to the broad man, turning slowly to present him with the back of your dress.“Help me out of this thing would you? So I can actually get some sleep.”

The black of your dress is open down to the middle of your back, where a short zipper begins. You don’t need any help with it, you’d been able to put it on without issue before the mission. However as you stood in your room, preparing to take off the garment, you couldn’t erase the image in your mind of John’s eyes landing on your figure as he hungrily took in your appearance. You couldn’t forget the feeling of his wide hands holding you against him, pressing every inch of his muscled physique to yours, lips desperate to chase the taste of your mouth.

Your heated thoughts brought you to the small kitchenette in search of a glass of water to cool yourself down, however as your eyes landed on the kettle, and your thoughts continued to swarm your head, you’d begun heating up your Captain’s tea and walking in direction of his office before you’d been able to convince yourself it wasn’t a good idea.

Now, peering over your shoulder to see John’s face as he takes in the expanse of exposed skin displayed before him, his breath catching in his throat, grip tightening on his pen in hand, you’re certain this was an excellent idea.

Taking a deep steadying breath through his flared nostrils, John’s eyes meet yours, a playful mischief hidden behind his gaze as you recognize that he’s just as well aware you can undo your dress without his help, without his hands to assist you, but still taking the bait you offer him. Part of John’s chest had swelled up with pride when you’d led the target to him and Gaz earlier tonight, even knowing that the odds had been 50/50 depending which direction the target went towards. He’d only been more than happy to oblige when you, the cunning little spider, lead her fly into the trap of her web, and broke the bastard’s nose as if you’d served him up on a platter.

He feels almost similar now, a bug being led into your sticky trap, watching you dangle the enticing bait in front of him that could lead to his ultimate demise, his unavoidable detriment. Though from the look in his eyes, it seems more likely that John is the one intent on devouring you whole tonight. His throat bobs as he swallows, spinning his chair to face you better, hands twitching for a moment before he brings them to trace the edge of the fabric where your dress meets your bare skin.

Your own breath comes out as a soft gasp as the feeling of his digits teasing along your back, the warmth emanating from his touch a thousand times hotter than the blood pooling in your face. You can feel his hot breath fan across your skin, just as his fingers bring themselves to grip your zipper firmly. Achingly slow, dragging the process out as if to torture you, John inches the zipper down at a pace only a hardened military man could maintain when face to face with more and more of your bare body appearing before his eyes.

The both of you are now holding your breaths as he finally drags the last of the zipper open, his fingers now grazing the top of your ass. You hear him let out a deep sigh, before his hands are sliding along the smooth material of your dress, the chair creaking beneath him as he comes to stand behind you. His hands tease along your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake as his digits skim higher and higher up your back until he reaches your shoulders.

You can feel every inch of him pressed up against you from behind, his body emanating heat like a furnace. But more noticeably, you can feel his rock hard member through his slacks pressing up against the swell of your ass.

“You know how proud you made me today, hm?” He asks softly, before pressing a kiss to your temple. You feel hardly in control when your eyes flutter shut, leaning back to put your full weight against him, letting him embrace you like this. He brings his mouth lower to kiss your reddened cheek, your neck, behind your ear. “Had the muppet in the palm of your hand soon as he laid eyes on ya.” His warm breath is fanning across your skin, rolling your neck to the side to allow him better access.

“And who could fuckin’ blame him?” He nearly growls, slipping one of the thin straps of your dress off your shoulder, allowing it to fall down your arm, his palm now coming to land on your exposed, bare waist, fingers spreading wide as he takes in your softness. Your eyes open as you feel a finger stroking your cheek, tilting your face to meet his, his shining blue orbs, glazed over in obvious desire, asking what he dare not speak out loud. You nod all too eagerly, telling him everything he needs to know.

John’s hand is sliding away from your cheek, fingers dancing across your shoulders as he gently tugs at the final strap holding your dress up, the tension that has been building and heating between the two of you for far too long now coming to a head. As the fabric falls from your figure and pools at your feet, leaving you bare before your captain, wearing nothing more but the necklace he’d put on you only so many hours earlier. John wastes no time in pulling your lips to his, curious hands exploring the expanse of your skin as you practically melt into his touch.

His large hands are squeezing your waist, your hips, one hand is reaching to grab ahold of your breast, fingers teasing your sensitive nipple. He hears you try to hold back a small moan, and he thinks you’re the sweetest thing in the world. Believing that you can hold back any of your delicious sounds from him. In the blink of an eye, John is turning you around, clearing everything off his desk in quick swoop of his arm, before lifting you up by your thighs and seating you atop his desk.

“Now, gorgeous,” he says almost sternly, putting on a faux captain voice, though he’s certainly never sounded quite so lustful over comms before. “That’s the first and the last time that I ever want to hear you try and keep a single one of your pretty little noises from me. Understood?”

You’re nearly panting you’re breathing so hard, watching as John pulls his chair up and takes a seat in front of you, his hands coming to pull your legs further apart until his shoulders are between them your thighs, your face going beet red as his own head is merely inches from your bare, completely soaked folds. In reality, you had been dripping down your thighs since you’d walked into his office with nothing underneath your dress.

“Seeing as you did such a good job tonight however,” he adds, fingers massaging the soft skin beneath his touch. “and considering you never even gave the bastard a chance to ask you to dance,” his gaze locks with yours at that, his eyes communicating the sentiment behind his words. “Lettin’ your old captain steal a one from ya,” his mouth comes to plant a kiss on your thigh, then another, and another, working closer to your centre. “Suppose you deserve a reward.”

Your moan would be embarrassing if the feeling of his warm lips sucking your clit wasn’t so heavenly. He spreads you open, tongue working at your sensitive bud with a fervour only a starving man could match. He is starved for you, has been since he’s met you and now that he’s tasting you, he doesn’t know how he’s survived without it. He can’t decide which is sweeter, your taste or the noises you make, so responsive to his touch, as if you were an instrument he’d memorized the most beautiful melodies to.

As his tongue continues to work feverishly at your nub, one of his fingers comes to tease your throbbing hole. His digit slowly slips in until he reaches his knuckle, slipping back out, wasting no time before slipping in a second, earning a lustful gasp from above him. Your hands are threaded in his hair, trying not to rock against him, but quickly losing grip of your self control, as he brings you closer and closer to that peak.

His two fingers begin to curl inside you, searching for that soft, sweet spot that has you seeing stars when he reaches it with his long, skilled digits. Your thighs are beginning to shake, one of his hands coming to steady you, but never dropping his pace, as his tongue and fingers work in tandem to bring you to that crest.

“Come on sweetheart,” he mumbles into you, his voice barely reaching your ears over the sounds of your own pleasure. “Give it to me. I’ve got ya, cum for your captain. Give me a good one.” Before he’s reattaching his lips to your wet folds, attacking your clit with renewed vigour.

John clamps a hand over your mouth just in time to muffle your scream as you cum all over his hand and mouth, soaking his beard with your arousal, his movements never slowing down until you’re pushing his head away from you, unable to take any more of the intense pleasure having you seeing stars. The both of you are panting now, as he slips his hand away from your mouth and around to the back of your neck, standing to his full height before you. He’s memorizing the look on your face at this moment, the glazed expression over your features, eyes gazing longingly into his as though you’re the only two people on this base, maybe the world. Fuck, how he wishes he could give you the world.

He brings his lips to yours, caught up in his undeniable feelings for you, going much, much further than simple attraction. Yet he’s having a hard time thinking very hard about that, or anything at the moment, when you’re kissing him back with the same intensity, one of your hands sneaking down his torso, reaching for the front of his trousers.

John can’t help the deep groan that comes up his throat at the feeling of your hand wrapping around him through the fabric of his pants. All too eagerly, he’s fumbling with the buckle of his belt, never letting your lips separate from his. Practically ripping the belt out of its place, he tosses it aside, feeling your deft fingers quickly pulling at his zipper, glancing up to meet his eyes when your fingers creep along the edge of his boxers underneath.

He gives you a single, confident nod, torn between rolling his head back in pleasure and keeping his eyes locked on your every expression as you tug down his trousers and underwear together, freeing his aching cock. His member springs to life, precum beading at his red, swollen tip.

“John…” you murmur as you size up his cock, excited and equally concerned about his impressive length.

“I know love,” he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “We’ll make it fit.”

You spread your thighs wider, arms coming to wrap around John’s shoulders as he lines his cock up with your entrance, already groaning at the feeling of his head touching your warm, wet folds. The both of you gasp as he slips his tip inside you, foreheads pressed together, as one of his hands tenderly holds the back of your head, fingers threaded through your locks while the other wraps around your back to squeeze your hip, holding you close to him.

Inch by inch, John rolls his hips forward and back, taking his sweet, sweet time in discovering the bliss that is being inside of you, wrapped around you, simply being with you, until he’s filled you up entirely to his base, hairs at the base of his groin coming to rub against your already sensitive clit, creating a delicious friction that you know will have you finishing quickly already.

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart,” he groans out, rolling his hips back, earning a pleased moan from your lips as he rocks forward again, filling you completely. “Gonna be the death of me.”

You haven’t a single functioning brain cell left to answer him, and he knows it, your continuously flowing arousal seeping down between where the two of you are joined, echoing sinful sounds throughout the small room. As if your moans wouldn’t be evidence enough as to what was happening in Captain Price’s office, should anyone walk by. Keeping a steady pace, the captain fucks you against his desk relentlessly, earning more and more of those very noises from your lips.

“Oh my god, John! Oh fuck! John!” Hearing you, John feels like he’s about to burst. He hasn’t cum in ages, and he’s been so hard for so long now, he doesn’t think he can hold back much longer. Not when he’s hearing you whimpering his name so sweetly, not when you feel as incredible as you do wrapped around him like this, squeezing him so tight. He’s pressing hot, open mouth kisses against your neck, your collarbone, any skin his lips can reach.

“Love,” John grits out through a clenched jaw, holding himself back as best he can as he continues to move with you, bodies rocking back and forth as if in their own choreographed dance. “Where can I- where do you want me to-”

“Inside!” You plead wrapping your legs tighter around his waist. “Inside John, please! I’m- oh fuck!” You say as he delivers another deep thrust. “On the pill. I’m on the pill.”

John needs no further permission, his cock continuing to hit that sweet, sensitive spot inside of you, that has your eyes rolling back in please. Just as his fingers reach between your two bodies to press against you throbbing clit, you moan out his name, reaching your blissful peak for the second time tonight, all at your Captain’s doing. John groans out, feeling himself begin to burst, holding his hips against yours.

“Fuck!” He shoots thick, hot ropes of his spend deep into you, his member twitching inside. “I got you love.” He talks you through both your cresting orgasms, grinding impossibly further into you, never letting go of the tight hold he has around you. “I’m with you, love. Right with you.”

Later on, as he walks you back to your room, insisting he has to see you make it there safely even though it’s technically become so ‘late’ that some of the early risers are awake by now, John asks:

“You did have panties on under the dress durin’ the mission though, right?”

If you’ve made it to the end of my first ever completed series, then thank you for making it this far!

I felt very bleh about the ‘mission’ part of writing this but hopefully my first ever attempt at legitimate smut made up for it!

This is the end of this little three part series, but I’ve got some more Price fics lined up for sure

I know I said it in the initial disclaimer but seriously y’all, wrap it before you tap it, fan fiction is fiction, pregnancy and STDs are real, use protection! (But like me, read all the filthy, filthy fics your heart desires)

-M 🫶🏻

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vesperaominosum · 24 days ago

Text

Second reason (pt. II)

Summary : You take a week off your new job, amidst admiring the life you've built after leaving the secret service. Part 2 of Second reason that no one asked for. Few years later.

Pairing : RE4 Leon! × Fem Reader

Tags : (sighs) angst, unreliable narrator, hurt/comfort, slight smut, moderate strong language, OCD descriptions, PTSD, disordered eating, animal death (mention), depression, alcoholism, fertility issues, paranoia, stalking, dub-con (if you squint real hard), family planning, emotional cheating.

Word count: 20.3k

A/N: This is just something that crawled out of me for no reason at all, I kept getting those random questions about the story in my head and wrote some answers down.

Special thanks to @writingwisterias for encouraging this, @purplerosebouquet for the original request. @coeurbrule, @badwer @marymustdie, @cheesywedgy for motivation and everyone who liked the first part, it means A LOT actually.

Zero point two meters, zero point one meter, zero point one meter, zero point one meter, stop- stop- stop- stop- stop-

Road rage was not something you exhibited often, but when it happened, it was mostly caused by your own inability to park. Or as you liked to convince yourself, the inability to park of others. Maybe if people were a little more considerate, you would have zero problems getting into the spot, but since every other driver assumed their Nissan deserved two parking spaces instead of one, you had to go an extra mile (sometimes literally) just to get out of the vehicle and go on with your day.

With your evening, in this case. But it was an important evening, nothing extravagant, but your boyfriend was about to leave for a long work trip in the morning and wanted you to spend a night at his place. He’d be waking up earlier than you, so you couldn’t block his driveway with your car and had to park nearby, which was a problem. You were used to dropping your car off by your apartment complex where you had a designated spot just for you, that didn’t block anything for anyone because it was designed this way. This is how things were supposed to be, designed to be easier.

You killed the engine and let out a frustrated huff through your nose. You had a perfectly good day, nothing got in the way of your routine, but you kept noticing a collection of small irritating details getting bigger and bigger on the top shelf of your mind. It started with your morning coffee leaving an aftertaste akin to sewer water, continued throughout the day with your pens not cooperating and a damn flash card taking too long to load your presentation, which caused you to stand in front of students (who were not much younger than you, so the pressure to be at least presentable was high), then your heel bent weirdly at one point, the sensation of unsteadiness that lasted a second, caused you to feel…, well, unsteady, for the rest of the day. On top of it all you met an annoying colleague in the hallway at work, right when another colleague, who did not like the one you were talking to, was walking by and saw it; now she will assume you were the one who fed that guy information that cost her a position at the department, when all that pest wanted to chat about was the cafeteria changing the type of chocolate they put in their cookies. You were not friendly enough with the girl you now had to win back at your side, so it was vexing. And the damn parking. You almost forgot about how you had to prove to the café manager that Riley was a service animal at noon, and while it wasn’t a big deal, it surely added to the pile.

Riley was patiently waiting for you to finish actively hating on everything under the sun so you could go out and meet your boyfriend with a smile on your face and an easy-going attitude that he deserved to witness before departing. Your boyfriend, your fiancé, it was complicated.

You rubbed small circles above your eyebrows and got out of the car, Riley happily following you down the suburban street. So much space everywhere, yet you couldn’t park anywhere because it just wasn’t allowed and it wasn’t how it was done. The gates made no sound as you opened them, you sent Riley to play in the yard with a quick command and entered the house with a spare key you rarely used, but since you were late as it was, you didn’t think to wait longer.

You greeted your boyfriend with a small kiss, falling into his toned arms, smiling at his dissatisfied noises as he kissed you more. The dinner that he had prepared went cold, but it was destined to regardless of your tardiness, since your greeting kiss would’ve led you to the bedroom in every possible scenario.

You only remembered the dinner, as you were drying your hair with a towel sitting on top of a large soft bed, hunger crawling its way into your stomach after a very passionate welcome. It seemed to be the case with him as well, but, perhaps, a hunger of a different kind.

“Don’t!” – you smiled and shifted away, he matched the smile and began to pull you in with one hand, tugging the robe with another, kissing the bared shoulder, “I’m so serious, Jim, I have an expensive lotion on.”

“I’ll buy you more” – he kept placing kisses all over your shoulder, moving to the collarbones, - “You smell so good”.

“It’s the lotion,” – you tried your best to keep your smile from growing bigger, - “it’s expensive.”

He laughed into your neck, - “You sure? Let me check,” – his lips sucking in sensitive skin, awaking the arousal, hands disrobing you to get a hold of your chest, pinching a nipple with just enough pressure to make sure you won’t be falling asleep without another round, - “Yeah, seems expensive.” – he affirmed, voice hoarse behind the humor.

After the second shower, you both sat in the kitchen, eating cold dinner with your hands.

“This is good,” – you put a slice of something that looked like a sweet potato covered in sauce in your mouth, closing your eyes as you tasted different spices. You still didn’t get accustomed to his vegan cooking, but hunger made everything enjoyable; there was a possibility it was actually good for a change.

“As long as you keep in mind that it was better hot,” – Jim said, - “I will take this compliment.”

You let yourself melt into the relaxing atmosphere. It was rare you got to do something like this, both busy at work, and when you weren’t you had a million arrands to run. Today though, even the thought of your little date stealing precious time from your sleep didn’t disturb the tranquility.

The upcoming week promised to be turbulent at best. Jim would be gone, attending some conference he was sent to, you had to drive Riley to the vet and leave her there for a few days, since she needed a checkup and you had to finish renovating your apartment before selling it, all the chemicals not safe for a dog. Jim kindly proposed that you could stay at his place and renovate later, get a week off work and deal with the apartment during the day, coming back to his place in the evening. But you knew he didn’t like the idea of Riley being inside the house, you had to make him comfortable with the reality of living with a dog when he was present, so there won’t be any resentment down the line; generally speaking, it was a nice offer, but it wouldn’t change much, it would just complicate everything.

You’ll get a week off, may be more, leave Riley at the vet clinic, work on the apartment in peace and when he comes back, you won’t have to burden him with your problems.

The sun was softly pressuring your eyes to give in and open, gradually shinning brighter and brighter, light muffled by see-through curtains. You woke up alone, your boyfriend already departed, his red car nowhere to be seen along with the suit he prepared for the conference. It felt strange being in his house without him. Something you’ll have to get used to since you’ll be moving in together soon.

Weekends were the worst, because they disrupted a routine. It’s harder in a new environment, ‘It’s going to be harder without Riley’ – you thought to yourself, rubbing your eyebrows. Overnight moisturizer grinding into little pellets; the sensation gave you something to focus on without letting too much thoughts in too early in the day.

You were ready for this. It’s been three years since you started therapy (EMDR worked wonders). Ready to spend time alone without Riley, ready to move out and move in, ready for a new day. Your anxiety about it was the biggest saboteur, since you never had issues when you weren’t deeply aware of the impending doom. But acknowledging it alone didn’t help. You had to be cautious, but not too cautious, not so you start listening to every sound your ears could pick up.

Jim had a very clean looking kitchen that was always messy for some vegan reason. It was always something scattered around, some peas in the corners of every surface, little rice grains, grey looking powder. He always mentioned how it’s dry thus not a big deal and that when you actually cook your food with multiple ingredients it’s bound to happen. It truly wasn’t a big deal, cleaning it up was peaceful in a way. He also preferred ‘real tea’ so he boiled water in one of those steel kettles on a gas stove. It made an alarming whistling sound when water came to a boil, so you put up the whistling part. That wasn’t a sound you’d like to hear.

The truth was, it wasn’t just Riley and Jim’s conference trip that set you off to be this aware of your surroundings. You dealt just fine with small changes in the routine and different environments, despite what your therapist suggested, it even helped to feel more in control.

Big changes are what irked you the most. First time it happened two years ago, when you decided to quit working at the rehabilitation center and applied to the university, not the best position but you needed the minimum of three years of experience on top of your degree to submit your thesis. And you haven’t even started working on figuring out what your project was going to be about. Imposter syndrome did not help one bit. It would take years to work on, write, apply and submit. If you wanted a PhD by late thirties, you had to get yourself together now. So, there was no time to waste working at the center, even though the job was rewarding, you liked helping people you could relate to, your own triggers kept you from getting too involved, which was necessary.

Besides everything, sheltering yourself was not the best strategy, so you quit. Getting used to a new job was somewhat challenging, but you got through it. This time the big change creeped in slowly: your boyfriend decided to propose.

Well, it wasn’t a big gesture, and according to him wouldn’t change much. You met at the rehabilitation center where you worked before quitting. He was a physiotherapist, seven years older than you, a good family, patient when it came to people, strong hands, thick dark hair. Asked you out on the spot, you hesitated, but figured you needed a distraction from a harsh breakup anyway. Well, the breakup wasn’t harsh, but you had a hard time dealing with consequences.

Jim was patient with you and soon you found yourself in a symbiotic relationship, he was always there when you needed to discuss something, he wasn’t possessive and gave you space. So, he understood when you hesitated accepting his proposal. You were still in your twenties; you were comfortable with the relationship that you had. But his family was pressuring him, and he told you that it didn’t mean that you had to get married. A shut-up-ring but for his family, as you joked. It made sense; he was in his thirties with a demanding job. His final argument broke through your defense – “Do you consider leaving?”. You did not. Then why does it matter, since marriage was a goal eventually anyway. Not now, but eventually. This is what the proposal was, just an ‘eventually’. The ‘we’ll get married down the line, someday’ message to his family, to everyone.

It started to dawn on you that you were the last to get that message. At first you didn’t pay it any mind, everything stayed the same; you didn’t even wear the ring. But soon you noticed your thoughts circle back to the idea every time you noticed something that stood out.

You kept thinking ‘I’ll have to live with this forever’ every time you saw the mess in his kitchen. ‘This is going to be about our kitchen.’ Someday. That ‘someday’ was the real reason for your anxiety. You thought about raising kids with him, would he insist on them being vegan? He never cared about your eating habits, offered to try his food, different alternatives every once in a while, but nothing extreme. But it would be different with kids. You weren’t proud of your thoughts, but a habit of scaring yourself in preparation for the worst remained your most trusted ally.

You thought about kids before, just after you got away from the secret service slavery. Sitting at the doctor’s office; you recall the regret of having a memory from high school of the day you first learned that you lost your period from intense exercise. Back then it made you feel better about yourself. You found some twisted pride in knowing that your student athlete career (that landed you a spot at the university) closed the door for a quiet life. Like the universe accepted your choice to never have a proper family. The consequences only revealed themselves later in life. You felt cheated.

It wasn’t like you wanted kids at the time as well, but sometimes you caught yourself wondering. So, you followed every recommendation like the most obedient soldier; took all the pills, strict dietary plans, check-ups. There was so much comfort in gaining the possibility back, like the universe leading you back to that hallway, full of doors to open. It wasn’t about kids, it was about having a choice, having a future you can still bend.

That fixation faded once your ex walked out on you. Or once you threw him out. Depends on how you wanted to view the story in the moment of reminiscing. But it didn’t matter, because you were not reminiscing. What mattered is that you got out of the frenzy and the subject of having kids never entered your mind again.

The subject of having kids never entered your mind when you got together with Jim, you did not think of it throughout your relationship. Mainly because it was too early. But now when you were technically engaged under the premise of agreeing that you did not want to break up in the future anyway, that meant that any kids you will have will be with him. Makes sense? And that was not something you were prepared to even think about.

It wasn’t that he wasn’t a good candidate, but God, even thinking about him as a candidate was weird. Thinking of anyone as a ‘candidate’ was weird. It was weird thinking about kids. You felt like a teenager who was harassed by older relatives at the family function. But those older relatives were your own thoughts, and you were not a teenager anymore, despite feeling like one sometimes.

Jim was nice, attractive and healthy. Good hairline, straight teeth, amazing personality, stable job, big family. Built a perfect relationship to set an example. You just needed time to grow comfortable with that thought. Reality was a bit more complicated than him being decent as an individual, unfortunately. Would he insist on his family being involved in the lives of your children? The mere idea of that was suffocating; it’s not that you disliked them, but you were not comfortable with handling relationships with someone outside of the people you picked. And you did not pick them. His family liked you. You suspected they were having their issues with you, but no one is perfect and no one is going to like everything about you anyway.

When he told his parents that you were engaged, they looked happy. Later you overheard him talking about you to his mother, Jim said that he’s glad she’s happy because you’re truly the best girl, and she agreed, said “She knows how to play the role”. That comment rubbed you the wrong way, but you knew she didn’t mean it like that. His mother disliked your past in the ‘military’, disliked how career oriented you were, and despite all of it, she accepted you. Refused to be mean from the start and gave you a chance. You were grateful for it. After all, she’s just a mother who wants the best for her child. You would want the best for your kids as well. Would you want them to have a life like this? Would you want them at all?

A strong smell pulled you out of these thoughts. Stinging metallic smell of burned plastic and copper, bitter. The damn kettle, you forgot that you put the whistling part up, and now all the water boiled out without a sound, leaving an empty metal kettle with a plastic handle heating up under direct fire. Burning up.

Wrapping the handle in the towel, you swiftly put soot covered metal in the sink. The sound and the smell making your heart race faster. You had to open the window to let the smoke out, the smell out, you needed to get out. You needed Riley. Had to go to the vet, stick to your plans. Immediately. Now.

Got dressed, got Riley, got in the car, got to the clinic, signed the papers, said goodbyes, back in the car, the smell isn’t gone. There’s no smell in the car, it’s in your head. The smell of the heated iron, the smell of bullet shells. Did iron smell like blood because of..., well, iron? Or was it just your brain dragging the nasty sweet-sour smell of blood out of your memory and tying it to the one of heated copper? Was it even copper? Fuck, you had to open your car windows. You immediately felt panic set in, car windows had to be closed. Why weren’t they closing fast enough? Open windows weren’t safe. Your windows weren’t even bulletproof anyway so it didn’t matter. You had a regular car. Because you were a regular person. You took deep breaths. You, a regular person, sat in your regular car, and took deep breaths. To calm down, because there was no point in panicking. Nothing would happen. Nothing bad was going to happen to you.

Riley was stressed leaving you in that state. Well, Riley didn’t leave you, you left Riley. Your poor girl didn’t have to stress about being a bad friend. It was all on you, you wished you had a way to let her know. But you had to stick to the plans, otherwise you’d lose it.

You were not coming back to Jim’s place. Did you take the kettle off the stove? Fuck, hopefully, you did, because you were not coming back. You did. You had to, you had a good reaction and you always did the right thing in the moment, the haziness usually kicked in after the fact. It wasn’t foolish to trust yourself with this. You did everything right, and you were going to your apartment to deal with the renovations.

The apartment used to feel like home before you decided to renovate and sell it. Even before any attempts to change how it looked, it just lost its magic the second you set your mind. Now it wasn’t hard to tear off wallpapers and throw out some old furniture. It was all easy now - and that wasn’t easy. It was scary how simple discarding something meaningful was to you. Like it didn’t hold any significance anymore. You noticed this trend some time ago.

It was the most annoying state of mind, when the silence unnerved you, made you listen to every little sound, but music made you anxious because of the idea that you might not hear something. What was it you waited to hear? It was ridiculous, there was nothing to look out for, no danger, yet you found yourself on the verge of another episode. First one in a long while. That wouldn’t work, you had to pick up Riley earlier. Rent a place. Renting a place won’t work - new environment - new corners to get used to, new furniture that casts new unfamiliar shadows that you mistake for movement. Jim had to be back. You would never tell him that.

You promised to yourself to never involve Jim in your problems, he was a part of the life where no problems of that caliber took place. Normal life. Peaceful life. Civil life. He didn’t deserve this, he worked with many veterans at the center, he had no business dealing with another one at home. You would never do this to him.

You liked Jim for not knowing what it’s like to chase shadows and gasp for air amid nightmares, you had a fair share of experience dating someone who knows. Someone who knows and understands that problem too damn well. Didn’t work out.

You were not ruining something good for a quick relief, some temporary comfort, a couple of nice words that won’t change a thing; you’d work on it yourself and give the best version to the person who gives you the best version. This is how things are supposed to be.

You learnt the hard way how important trying to be the best person for each other was. Watching your ex drive himself straight into fucking alcoholism, refusing help. It’s not always simple, but you could do your part. For now, your part was not bugging your boyfriend with your problems. Your boyfriend, your fiancé, fuck.

There was no way to give the ring back without it changing something fundamentally in the relationship, and changing something was not at all what you wanted. That was the main thing, you did not want to change anything. And he promised nothing would change, but things did change. For you, they did. It’s frustrating being mad when there’s no one to blame. You couldn’t even blame yourself. It made sense. What could you do? Tell him that you wanted to leave the door opened? Considered breaking up in the future? It wasn’t true. You did not want to break up. You just didn’t want this. Wasn’t ready for the thoughts of forever just yet. And he understood that, he promised it’s just a formality.

Besides Jim being great and your relationship being fulfilling, there was no way you’d ever put yourself through getting to know another person again. The idea of learning something new about someone new made you nauseous. Letting someone in? That wasn’t an option. You figured it never worked anyway. We all play our roles in the lives of others.

We play a role of a friend, a daughter, a co-worker, a girlfriend… A wife, a mother. “She knows how to play the role”. That was a complement. It took you a lot to get it right. Before that, you let people in. It was all a blur, a co-worker, a lover, a friend, a client even… You thought people could handle each other. That someone could accept all of you. Maybe it’s the case with kids, when you’re just experiencing the world and trying to see other people for what they are. Every corner of their mind sparks interest. But grown-ups had boundaries and roles. Roles and rules to adhere to.

It sounds bad, but it isn’t really. Couldn’t be. How could it be bad if it worked? You wouldn’t tell things you tell your friends to your kids. Same thing.

At least tomorrow you wouldn’t be alone, a couple of plumbers will be occupying the bathroom and you’ll feel the obligation to be social. Maybe you should call up your friends, fill up the rest of the week. You took the sleeping pills you haven’t touched in a while and closed your eyes, wishing for a better morning.

It was a shameful secret, but sometimes, despite your education, you believed you had some magic powers. If you wished for something hard enough, it happened just the way you wanted to. And your magic powers proved themselves right the next day, when Jim called you up and said that he’s coming back earlier. Didn’t even have to ask him.

Your mood through the roof; the ‘roof’ like the sound that Riley let out as soon as she smelled you coming in, her soft black fur in your face, wagging tail hitting your shins. That joyful little Labrador made everything better. Your friend, the guardian of your peace. Her vet annoyed at your inconsistence: you made a deal you’d leave Riley for longer and they didn’t finish whatever they had planned. They’d manage to do it all in a day, but since they assumed they had the time… It was okay, you’d bring her back later. Riley was a trained service dog, so she needed intense check-ups. Since she was given to from the special service K9 unit, they were extra strict with it. She was more than that to you, so you’d do it anyway. You’d do anything to keep her happy and healthy – a thought ran through your head as you ruffled her cute ears, black eyes staring at you in adoration.

You assumed the same look of adoration was on your face as you listened Jim talking for what seemed to be hours about the conference. Apparently, he got in an argument with someone and won. The argument was very public and he got noticed by some guy who wanted Jim to talk about the importance of physiotherapy and an active lifestyle for office workers at some event at his company.

“So, I will be needing lessons from you.” – he joked.

“Oh, I teach kids”

“They are teenagers. Young adults even”

“Well, that’s way worse!” – you were laughing, energized by his enthusiasm.

“Oh, you don’t like to teach them? Imagine how I feel,” – he hugged you and looked at your face, timing the kiss.

“And what’s that’s supposed to mean?” – you raised your eyebrows, understanding perfectly fine that he was, once again, teasing you about being younger.

“Well, I deal with you.” – the smile was warm in every muscle in his face, it was hard trying to keep up with the fake argument, so you just laughed and let him land that kiss he was hovering.

“I missed you, don’t leave me again.”

He pecked your pouted lips – “I won’t. Only for this event.”

“The event is out of town?” – you let the worry in your tone seep out, and bit your tongue.

“Yeah, this Tuesday. Just for three days. You could come?”

“What? Why three days? What are you going to do there for three days?” – you immediately hated the way you sounded, like a clingy paranoid housewife. It wasn’t that. You weren’t that.

“A day to fly in, the day of the event and a day to fly back.” – he’s sympathetic, - “You could come.” – swaying you around a little.

“I can’t, I have work.” Shit, why did it have to happen like that?

“Didn’t you take your days off?”

“Yeah, no…” – you took his arms off of you, trying to shake the stress off, - “I still have to deal with the load I took home… And my apartment… And Riley.”

“We could take Riley.”

“She has a vet in two days.” – you sighed as Jim hugged you again, kissing your temple.

“And when do you have a vet?”

He made an exaggerated pained sound as you elbowed him, smiling, - “Next month? I don’t know. I saw Clara recently; she didn’t see a point in meeting sooner.”

You assumed he was talking about her. He could’ve meant the doctor he put you on to, the one who removed scars with that laser, but you didn’t want to talk about that. You had a nasty scar on the side of your body, a deep stab wound. You didn’t mind it, but Jim assumed it triggered you somehow. Clara was your therapist, a skinny thin lady with condescending lips. You figured she pursed them in an understanding expression way too much so they turned into that shape with age. Made a mental note to never do that yourself.

“Well, as long as you’re going. Next month or whenever… How’s everything with the apartment?”

Now was his turn to listen to you rumble about how you dropped the curtain poll and other boring details.

You were truly happy that Jim got this event thing, sometimes he felt trapped at the center, working at the same building every day. It was good for him to get away, you just didn’t want to deal with him being away. It was your problem to deal with, not his. You wouldn’t make it his problem. You were better than that.

But the days grew shorter and shorter and soon you found yourself waking up alone. Jim bought a new kettle, didn’t even get mad that you ruined the old one. Told you that you could drop the curtain poll here as well and he wouldn’t care. It was comforting, but you still didn’t feel like he meant it. He meant it of course, but he didn’t know yet what he meant to mean. You couldn’t even dare bring Riley inside. She was running free in the backyard and stayed at the building you referred to as a ‘summer kitchen project’. It wasn’t a summer kitchen yet, but it wasn’t anything else as well. Maybe one day Jim will turn it into a little guest house. Or a proper kitchen. Maybe you will do it together.

The thought plagued your mind once more. And it was heavy. Why was it heavy? Everything was fine. It was too early to think about those things anyway. Why think of them? But was it too early? You said yes to a goddamn ring, it wasn’t just a pinky promise. His parents knew.

He wasn’t close to his parents. They turned him into an overachiever, expecting nothing but the best, and soon he figured out that the best was never enough. They always wanted him to do better. So, he distanced himself. You liked that about him, he set boundaries. He never disrespected them, but he didn’t let them in into his life, so they couldn’t affect it. He used to laugh at their assumption that they had a grip on him. He told them what they wanted to hear, and did as he pleased anyway. You noticed how it was changing as well. ‘She’s just my mother’ (with an eyeroll) started turning into ‘Well, she is my mother’. Were you about to walk into a trap?

It’s just you. And your trust issues. He never did anything to hurt you, never deceived you. All he did was being supportive, and even assured you he wasn’t leaving with a promise, a ring. And you were paying him back with doubts. Maybe his mother was right after all, he needed someone less turbulent.

But you were less turbulent. You grew to be so much less turbulent, you had to stick to a routine not to choke on another panic attack. It used to be much worse, you had to acknowledge your progress. That’s what Clara always raved about. All the work that you put in building this life, it paid off. Panic attacks weren’t the issue, it was this state of heightened anxiety that felt like a tunnel vision on everything at the same time. Your mind turned into this quiet buzzing, like something was about bout to happen and you had limited time to fix it. How much time? What would happen? What were you supposed to do? When will it end? Would it?

It was hard to see it sometimes, but the bigger picture was clear. You’d figure out the project you wanted to work on, you’d finish it. All while getting the required experience with your university job, write your thesis, defend it. Get your PhD title and your life would be over. Done, you meant. Your life would be complete. Complete, that’s the word.

And the rest will follow. Steadily, just like the life you were building: steady, peaceful, fulfilling.

You planned on taking Riley for the leftover tests only, but got told that they will need her to stay at the clinic, might need a transfer to the providing organization; found something worth ‘looking into’. They had that look in their eyes when they said “It’s nothing serious, we don’t think”, that look like they were just saying it, you knew that they were lying.

She was not your property when it came to documents, K9 trained for the secret services. They only let you have her when you promised to return to ‘work’. You didn’t. And now that something happened, they’d take her away. Was it your fault? Did she absorb too much poison from your emotional state?

You sat in your car, trying not to let any thoughts in. Everything you ever wish really hard for always happened, so you had to think really hard about the good things. “It truly is nothing serious.” It’s good that you do these check-ups. It’s probably something other pet owners wouldn’t even notice for years until it’s too late, but you had a privilege to detect it early, so everything was going to be okay. Had to be thankful.

Should you call Jim? You couldn’t. You wouldn’t disturb him before an event that’s very important to him. He probably will tell you that everything will be fine anyway. And you knew it. You could tell it to yourself all the same. There was no need.

Your throat dry, like your body sucked up all the moisture in order not to cry. You couldn’t cry. Crying would mean you’re dealing with something and you were not. Because Riley would be okay. For fucks sake, you were smart. Crying was just crying. A complex emotional and physiological response that serves a function, various functions even. You were overwhelmed, not fucking grieving. It’s things like this that made you feel inadequate about your expertise sometimes. You were smart when it came to other people and textbook cases, yet toyed with all this magical thinking when time came to process your own shit.

You let out a frustrated sigh and rubbed your eyebrows, not caring about the makeup. You wouldn’t ever care about anything anymore if something were to happen to Riley. Shut up.

Nothing would happen. You got Riley even before you officially quit your job at the secret service, during the hospital leave. She was with you through everything, the only one that saw the path you had to take to be okay again. As okay as you were.

No one else stuck around, it wasn’t like there were people to stuck around to begin with, but still… A job like this can be isolating, so isolating you resorted to dating your partner. You did not think about those times, nor him; Clara agreed it did no good. Triggered a lot of destructive thought patterns and got you out of the loop.

You never intended to date him, it just happened. You knew it wasn’t a good idea and didn’t care, so you got exactly the ending that was due. It was good at first, too good. You could sleep when he was around. Falling asleep next to him was easy, because that’s what you did during the missions. You knew that if he lets you sleep, it means it’s his turn to be awake, and he’d be watching out for anything and everything. It worked in many ways. Sometimes you’d wake up in cold sweat, alarmed by the memories punishing you in your nightmares and you would see him next to you, sleeping. And that meant you were home. Because he’d never sleep in any other situation, you could trust him with that. You felt safe enough with him, an important transitional period. It wouldn’t be right to go cold turkey on that part of your life, having a familiar face around made it easier.

But then you started seeing each other less. He got entangled in missions above your understanding, he never talked about those, never talked about any of them; it wasn’t right for you to hear it and well, it was classified. And every time he went away your anxiety would feel fresh, and every time he came back your anxiety would feel fresh again. You couldn’t see him in the state in which he returned sometimes; bruised, bloody, swollen, that shell shocked dissociated look. You were used to it before, now it reminded you of something you’d rather forget.

He noticed the way it was affecting you, but didn’t find any better solution than not seeing you straight away; waiting a few days till the horror gets out of his system; and drinking during these days, evidently.

He never listened when you confronted him about his problem. At first, he hid it pretty good. Only drinking on the day of his arrival, sobering up the next day and then you’d meet up. But soon enough he started drinking to the point of sleeping through the entire day you were supposed to meet, claiming that it was just exhaustion. It wasn’t just exhaustion. And finally, he’d drink when you were together, to keep his mind sober, as he claimed. To deal with a hungover. When you confronted him about being hungover in the first place, he’d act like it was his God given right to drink when you weren’t seeing each other, so you made it clear it wouldn’t work. He had to find a way to deal with the problem. And alcohol wasn’t the problem. The ‘job’ was.

There was no way for you to get better with him around, there was no way for him to get better reintroducing himself to danger every other week. You were caring and kind and you begged for so long, before you snapped and gave him an ultimatum. He could go on another mission, but you wouldn’t wait for his return. It was his choice to make. His alone. You were not a bad person for doing that.

He didn’t choose you. Somehow you always knew he never would. You lied when you said you wouldn’t wait for his return, you waited. You waited for his return, wished for it. At some point the realization hit: that wishing for his return so hard against his will might work. And he might return, but not in the way you intended, it struck you like a lighting. What have you done? He’s going to return in a body bag. That’s generous, he’s going to return as a pile of ashes. So, you had to stop thinking about it.

Only saw him once after he left. Riley snuffed him out in the crowded street after your open lecture. It was more than a year ago. Neither of you wanted to talk, but Riley was too excited, so you talked for a while. He refused admitting he was seeing your lecture, despite his motorcycle, that he now used to move around, being parked outside the lecture hall. Looked somehow older, maybe the lines on his forehead deepened, maybe it was the look in his eyes, detached, maybe it was the fact that he went few days without shaving. Or sleeping, by the looks of it, eyebags almost red. It was all so unlike him. He used to have it all under control, was the one you relied on. It felt wrong seeing him like this, like he was taking away something from you.

Took so much strength not to act like a nagging ex. You wanted to ask all these questions: whether he was drinking, whether he was getting help, whether he knew it was wrong, whether he had someone to take care of him. But you weren’t his mother. Had to keep it in check. He was your ex-boyfriend. Essentially, just a stranger who knew too much. Boundaries.

Never saw him after that, never thought about him, went on with your life, built something great for yourself. Your life was real, without constant death looming in the corners. Your mind went to Riley and you hated your brain for it.

What if you never see her again? What if your little girl turns to ashes and this is all you’re going to hold in your hands when you touch her again? Your ex-partner appeared in your head once more. It’s the same disgusting thoughts, it’s never about anything other than your brain and it’s patterns. You had to stop, before you lost vision, hyperventilating in the car, like you saw ghosts.

What if it’s a sign? What if it’s the price for the new life you’re about to start? All your thoughts were about to come true. Your new life, and the sacrifice in the shape of two plastic bags half-full of ashes to finally let you go and live out your dreams. And the smell. Earthy smell of ashes. You started seeing black. You never wanted it. The idea of those warm black paws… Those hands that held you… All turned into dust.

You opened the car-door, breathing in the air through the mouth, in and out, desperately; and just walked out.

You had to call Clara, talk to her about it. She’d reassure you it was all in your head; but you already knew it. It was the problem. You were scared that whatever’s in your head always found it’s way to become a reality somehow, and this is why you didn’t want to acknowledge these thoughts. You’d never share it with anyone, you’d never make them any more real than they were. And they weren’t. None of it was real. You needed to fall into routine. Something to occupy your hands and your head.

Working on your apartment wasn’t helping much, everything made you think about how you’re getting rid of not just things, but also every other aspect. You loved clinging to things and thoughts. It kept you grounded for a while. There was no way to check up on Riley, they’d lie anyway. They’d lie and tell you everything is good; they already did that. If this sacrifice is tied together, this means your ex… This means if he’s okay, then Riley is also going to be okay. That made sense.

There was a way to see if he was fine, without coming in contact, had to be. Maybe you should call up some past colleagues and ask around, find a way to make it seem normal. There was no way to make it seem anything but deranged. So, your mind switched from thinking about to Riley to this.

It felt like something to grip onto. An indicator you could check. If he’s alive and well, then Riley is going to be alive and well. This is how the universe worked today.

The thought simmered in your head for the entire day as you painted the wall in your room white, so you cave in, got your old phone out, charged it, tried to find any contacts that could be useful. Try to ignore the way the phone makes all the memories smell.

You came up with a legend, rang up a girl who used to work in the archives, she wasn’t useful. Didn’t talk. Well, she knew how to keep information, that’s like, her job description or something.

You needed someone less loyal, who wouldn’t see any malice in an ex-employee asking questions. Because there was no malice, it was just small talk. Called up a guy who worked at the storage facility. He was in the mood to talk. You weren’t sure he remembered you, but he was honored an ex-agent called him up to chat randomly. You told him about how you were at the airport another day and had to carry your luggage, which made you think of all the work he’s done for you. Thanked him in a long speech, and as you were wrapping up the call, asked around. Just a polite ‘how’s everyone doing’ type of thing. ‘Please just straight to the point,’ you thought to yourself, all this talk made you nauseous. You just wanted to hear any random fact about that one person. That’s it. But the guy never mentioned him, made you work for it. You ask a couple of questions about other people he didn’t mention. Come on, sound nonchalant and make it look natural. Will it be less suspicious if you ask about him after getting your answers about three random people prior? Three is too text-book, make it four. Make sure to ask about someone else as well afterwards, so it doesn’t sound like it was the goal. Make sure your voice doesn’t give it away when you mention his name. It’s easy.

The interrogation was supposed to leave you feeling at peace, but what you learned left you confused instead. Confused in your own feelings. Irritated, enraged…, upset? What do you mean that motherfucker quit?

Peeling the carrots was relaxing, skinning that orange vegetable. Small white lines becoming more and more transparent before disappearing, strong refreshing smell. What else is orange in the room? One of the buttons on the TV remote was orange before you threw the TV out, that black mirror of the screen made you anxious, so it had to go. Jim’s place had an orange towel, not much of color at your place. You had an orange eyeshadow in one of the makeup pallets, one of those colors no one ever used. You only used natural ones, to make you look presentable, but still respectable and serious. Why would he quit? Found something worth leaving it all behind for? Someone? Good for him. Would be good for him, if it was the case. Probably wasn’t. Probably quit to drink more.

You couldn’t imagine him doing anything other than what he was doing. He was out of place anywhere else. He was the kind of person who was so reliable in stressful situations, but an absolute mess in a day-to-day life. You wondered if he knew how to pay taxes. Always had the government do everything for him, they basically groomed him and he was too comfortable. And the motorcycle? With the drinking? A recipe for a fucking disaster. A recipe, right. You needed another carrot. You were stressed beyond reason as it was, here he was giving you another headache. You threw the carrot into the sink. You already peeled enough actually.

So, he quit four months ago. And you’re just getting to know about it. Like that, from some random guy. No one even bothered to tell you, like it didn’t matter. Did they consider even for a moment that maybe you knew something that had to be accounted for before letting him go? How did they even just let him go? You went though a lot of bullshit to finally quit, your trauma playing a factor. Did they catch him drinking on duty? He always said it wasn’t this simple when it came to quitting, so what changed?

This fucking salad wasn’t turning out great. And you weren’t even hungry anymore. Jim was about to be home in few hours, you had to eat or else you’d be forced to eat the cow vomit he called food.

This was wrong, mean thoughts. Jim didn’t do anything to upset you. If you didn’t like his food, you should take the matters in your own hands and cook for him. Find vegan recipes online. You could find anything online.

You could find anything online. A couple of thoughts ran through your head, conflicting with each other. You were not about to stalk your ex.

Anyway, vegan food didn’t have to be nasty, Jim was just in too deep and got used to it, you didn’t have to suffer. You’d cook up something decent. He’d be glad you’re committing to the bit.

The recipe. To the store. To Jim’s place. To the kitchen. Fuck the carrot salad. Fuck all of this.

“This. Is just. Amazing” – Jim annunciated, taking another forkful of the mushroom gravy pie with garlicky kale mashed potatoes, - “Is there anything you’re not good at?”

‘Oh, you have no idea’ – a spiteful thought ran through your head.

“Well, you tell me,” – you smiled instead.

“As far as I’m concerned,” – he stood up, grabbing your waist, - “You’re perfect.” – placed a kiss to your temple. Why is always the temple?

You almost pushed him away, before recognizing that your annoyance wasn’t directed at him, you actually liked how he hugged you, you tried to relax into his arms.

“It’s going to be okay, Riley’s gonna be fine,” – he placed another kiss to your temple. Who the fuck asked him to mention Riley? He never even let her in the house properly, what does he know about anything? You let out a suppressed scoff and inhaled sharply. It wasn’t his fault; you were just on edge.

“Thank you.” – for nothing. That mean person in your head just couldn’t shut up. Shut up. “I’m sorry, last couple of days were crazy. I’m glad you’re back.”

Be the best version of yourself for others. Unlike some.

The conference or the meeting- the event-whatever, went well, he even managed to land another similar gig, that was good. Jim told you all about it, he went out to celebrate with the people that organized all that and got you a stuffed toy from the slot machine. Sweet. You laughed at his stories and he almost made it all better. But once a thought got into your head, you were persistent to abuse it, obsess over it, you knew that trait, and you had to manage it somehow.

“Remember Kennedy?” – you said nonchalantly, brushing your teeth before bed.

“The president?”

“No, the guy I used to work with.” – you had to talk with someone about it, otherwise you’d keep thinking about it in private. Those thoughts needed a way out, and you could tell Jim anything.

“Ah, the one you used to date.” – he was getting ready for bed as well, assembling the pillows in that secret smart way that gave him superpowers of never straining his muscles or something.

“Yes. So, I was catching up with some colleagues and guess what? He quit few months ago.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. No one even told me. This is how I get to know about it.”

“Yeah, what about it though?” – the pillows must not be pillowing because he was not paying enough attention. – “Why would they tell you?”

“Jim. Do you understand the situation? How it looks like?” – you glared at him, toothbrush in hand. – “This is not about him, Jim. This is about me. About my reputation.”

He put down the pillow, looking at you, dumb expression on his face, - “How is this about your reputation now?”

“Are you kidding me?” – you spat toothpaste out, washed the brush and fastened the silk robe around your waist, - “Do you know what kind of training he went through? We went through. Him, especially.” – it wasn’t about him though, - “The… What we’ve been through? Generally. Last time we spoke, he was coping horribly, drinking and-…”

“You’re super tense.” – Jim came over and put his hands on your shoulders, rubbing slightly. – “Ease up. Want me to rub your shoulders, huh?”

“I want you to know why I’m upset.” – you sat down on the bed, Jim still rubbing your back, - “You just don’t quit that kind of job without support. What if something happens and then… Me.” – you pointed both hands at yourself, like you had to explain it to him, - “What are they going to say? What kind of a psychologist am I? Who’s going to grant me with a prestigious position and a PhD with an ex who did… all… that?” – you couldn’t bring yourself to say that, but you trusted Jim to figure it out. It wasn’t a healthy situation.

“Listen, I know.” – Jim started working on your neck, it wasn’t even tense, - “You can always twist it though.” – Twist what? Your neck? – “See: you both went through something so horrible…, and look what it did to him. But you, you managed to crawl your way back from hell. And you can help others.” – he said it with a theatrical grandiosity, knew how to lighten the mood.

“This isn’t funny.” – you swerved your shoulders away; it wasn’t working in the moment.

“Or look.” – he sat up straight – “Nobody cares about the timelines, it’s the story that matters. Can always say his demise inspired you to help others.”

“This isn’t funny, Jim. I’m so serious right now.” – what was he even talking about?

“Okay, fine.” – Jim sighed, like you upset him by not complying, - “Let’s be real. I honestly don’t think anyone’s gonna care about your personal life like that.”

“You don’t know how it is, they will dig up every possible reason not to lend me the spot. It’s men who can date high schoolers and still work with kids. Me, a woman-…”

He rolled his eyes, - “There we go… Yes, I understand it’s the whole world against you.”

“You don’t know what’s it like, it’s important, I cannot let my reputation be tainted with something like-“

“Oh, how would I know?” – why was he mad? – “My job’s not that serious. I don’t have to care about my reputation.”

“Jim, don’t fucking do this. This is not about you.”

“Yes! What is this even about? I don’t think your ex is going to fucking kill himself because he quit. Guy’s probably having the time of his life right now.” – he looked at you – “Damn, not everyone’s fucking crazy!”

You stared at him.

What? You had to go get some water. Anything to just calm down. He was supposed to comfort you, not this. Not everyone’s fucking crazy? Like whom? Did he just call you crazy?

No, he didn’t. And he was right. You spent way too much time with suicidal people, not everyone’s like that. You needed to relax and let it go. You finished you water and came back to bed.

Just laid there in silence for a moment, before Jim shifted to cuddle up, you put your head in his neck.

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m just stressed. It’s the apartment, it’s Riley being away, you leaving…”

“It’s okay” – he kissed your head, - “I get it.”

He kissed your shoulder and it felt like you were pressured into peace you did not deserve. Restless. Moving in with him would be a challenge, you suddenly found yourself clinging to all the chaos you still carried inside, knowing that he’s on a mission to install order over it. You cannot imagine sleeping next to someone every day, not being able to twist and turn till sunrise.

You closed your eyes, feeling the bees and worms move under your skin. One day, they will go away. It will all go away.

“I don’t like what you said last night…” – you brought up in the morning, getting ready for another day.

Jim was not in the mood for the conversation, but you both valued communication - “Is this about your…”

“Yeah, I don’t like how you talked about him.” – you both understood each other without having to say much.

“Okay. What was it I said that you didn’t like?” – he was putting up with you at this point. You didn’t like feeling like you were someone he had to put up with.

“You talked about him…” – you motioned with your head – “ending things?”

“Yeah? I thought you did that.”

“You put it harshly, I don’t like this, don’t do that.”

“I’m sorry, I won’t do it.” – he was just saying things.

You sighed, - “It’s not that… It’s a sensitive topic for me, you know that. And it’s very real.”

“I know” – he buttoned up his jacket and walked up to give you a small peck.

When you got together, Jim promised he would lean a thousand languages to get through you. That you will always find a middle ground. Sometimes it felt like he was just saying what you wanted to hear to shut you up.

The day was slow, full of grading assignments, checking if the paint was drying flat at the apartment (you already managed to mismatch the primer with the paint once, causing it to bubble up before), talking to the vets at the clinic, who assured you that all Riley needed was a small surgery and that it wasn’t anything to worry about, but she was transported. You could even see the pictures from before they took her, except you couldn’t. You couldn’t see her in the state that you were. And if you miss out on the chance to see her one last time, you wouldn’t forgive yourself. And you’d be forced to end things. It was a nice set up, Check-mate, universe. There will be no life without Riley, so everything had to be okay.

You were happy you no longer worked with people; you wouldn’t wish a therapist like yourself on your worst enemy. But then maybe you would. That would be a neat punishment.

You did not manage to find anything about your ex on the internet, gave up on that task and picked it up again a couple of times. Even lying on the bed after a hot bath, which usually helped, the thoughts just did not leave you. He was a threat to your reputation. It’s not like it was easy to find anything on someone with a job like his. So that actually meant that if anything were to happen, no one would know. This thought should’ve been sufficient enough to put your worries to rest, but it made you even more restless. It wasn’t fair and it wasn’t right, and you had to know. It wasn’t even about anything, you just had to know.

What if imagining him in misery was easier than imagining anything else? Maybe the thought of him being happy made you uncomfortable. What then? Could you trust yourself to be a bigger person? Deep down you knew, the mean voice in your head wanted every single person who didn’t choose you to suffer in regret. It was because of your parents. And that voice had no control over you, unless it did. And sometimes it did, but not now. You were the bigger person, maybe not when Jim sat on the bed, disrupting your thoughts. You were the smaller person next to him, literally. He was bigger. And the bed moved under his weight.

The thoughts had to go; Jim had no business being present in the aura of your maliciousness. To him, you were good. And you would be good with him. He’d make you better.

“I can see the stress radiating off of you” – he laughed lightly, - “putting a hand to your forehead”. Goofy.

You smiled and rubbed your eyes, - “I’m fine…”

“You’re not fine” – Jim got all up in your face, a playful smile, studying, - “I know how to deal with tension.”

“No doubts, I heard you were famous for that.” – you matched the tone, - “Traveling around the country sharing your knowledge with serious people.”

“Oh no,” – grabbing you by the waist, he laid flat on his back and pulled you up on top of him, - “A masterclass for you only.”

Oh no. Indeed. “Wait” – you support yourself placing a hand on his chest as he pulls you up, kissing your thigh. You hold onto the bedframe, his kisses are warm, hot. The timing is off, you’re in your head.

Maybe it will work, maybe you need to shut your brain off, give in to him. And you try, as his lips make your muscles tighten up. You breathe deep, no thoughts. Please no thoughts.

The more you try not to think of something, the more your brain focuses on the matter – it was the bane of your life. Usually the problem was more general, less urgent. But at the moment, you tried really hard not to let any of it get inside your head, forget for a moment, let go. It doesn’t matter at the moment. Nothing matters, just you and… Just you and the disarray of fragments that steal your life from perfection. And Jim. Fuck, not like this. By focusing hard on not letting the visions in, you shut off from feeling, your body overstimulated, your brain fighting for the upper hand to block it out. It almost hurt, the pressure. Like a drawn bow, you tried not to give way. Not to think about the vet clinic, the walls, white walls in your apartment, your bedroom, your bed, a man on the bed, a vision of blue eyes staring at you flickered in your head so visceral, like a lightning. You grabbed the bedframe like a lifeboat to a drowning man, gasping for air, a shudder running across your body. Finally, no thoughts.

You collapsed backwards, your head on Jim’s boxers. You felt him hard, immediately deciding that you’re going to fall sleep, play dead. You could actually pass out, he could do whatever, you couldn’t deal with your mind at the moment. Your boyfriend, your fiancé, sat up straight, grabbing your shoulders and pulling you in. Only it wasn't you. He kissed that someone, moaning into her lips. She fell like a ragdoll onto his chest and he cradled her, brushing the hair with his fingers.

You slept in. Woke up and fell back asleep a couple of times, actually. You weren’t ready to give your brain another chance to work just yet. It fucked up. It fucked up so bad. Jim left you breakfast. His idea of breakfast never involved eggs. You could not look at yourself in the mirror. You thought you left shame behind. You held yourself accountable and never acted before you were sure you’d be okay living with your decisions. Should you hold yourself accountable for thoughts? Thoughts you couldn’t control. And you tried. For longer than you could admit.

‘This rotten feeling, this disgust with yourself will go away’ - you told yourself. Let it simmer, process it, and it will pass. Will be recycled and forgotten.

It was a mistake to even think about him in any capacity. It wasn’t your intention. But here you were, facing the truth that you will miss his touch no matter how much time passes.

You tried to test it in the morning, lying there next to your fiancé, his hand on your stomach, felt like any other morning. Eyes closed, you tried to trick your brain, concentrate on the weight of Jim’s hand, imagine the hand belongs to another. To him. And as soon as your imagination kicked in, the tug in your stomach twisted, heating up your cheeks, like some kind of engine. Nothing in your reality changed, it was all in your head. It was the end the world. That experiment.

Truly sadistic, you hated yourself in a way so profound, you found every way to ruin your own peace. Never left a negative emotion alone, always picking, digging, looking for something, always making it worse. Then cry when you found it.

You truly felt like the worst human on the planet. At least actual “bad” people never attempted to be good, they’d probably do a better job at it. It was their choice to do bad things. You made all the right choices and still failed.

Not being able to eat, you took a sip of green tea, you had to be rational. It’s not like it doesn’t happen to other people. The only reason you fantasized about your ex is because you were stressed thinking about him, and you were stressed thinking about him because of Riley. If Riley was here, none of it would happen. You had to make sure Kennedy was alive, for Riley’s sake. It still made sense to you. And actually, it was all in your head. Your memories. You missed your memories, not a real person. You bet if you saw him now, you wouldn’t feel a thing. Other than regret, disappointment.

He must be miserable, drinking his health away. Health is what makes us attractive at the end of the day. It’s all chemicals. So, if you were to see him, you’d be disappointed and feel adequate again.

And you will appreciate Jim for what Jim was. Stable, put together. There was no reason to lose your mind just yet.

Maybe you lost it, actually. Because you were pulling up every illegal way to look up your ex’s motorcycle license plates. You had a vague polaroid of Riley next to it, from that one time you saw each other. She looked too excited and happy. Like she won a treasure hunt. You had o take a picture. To busy your hands, because meeting him was awkward. Riley made it less awkward. Saved you every time. Your poor little girl. It would all be okay.

Did he get any tickets? Where did he park? You did not recall all the numbers, only a fragment of the plate visible in the picture, and it turned out there were too many similar motorcycles around. And he could’ve moved. Probably did, so it was a dead end. You scoffed, closing the laptop. ‘Repair shops’ sparked in your brain. For being your worst enemy, sometimes that brain was useful. You called up every repair shop you could find, asking if they had any experience with the particular model, acting like you needed their services. Had a list, had a car, had a whole day to drive around and interrogate them about a particular customer.

You read them well, you knew people; could tell when they didn’t know anything useful and weren’t lying. Until you saw a flicker of recognition in the eyes of one repair shop owner as you were showing him a picture, you didn’t look at the picture. The owner had thick moustache and tattoos. Tough case. The likes of him never ratted out people. Not for a low price at least.

You swore you could’ve bought a bike with the money that it cost you, but now you knew that your ex introduced himself as “Scott” (how original, went by the middle name), few times had a drink or two with the owner. And needed help with his motorcycle every once in a while, it was always ‘a gruesome sight’. Yeah, sounds right.

So, the bar was the only clue you managed to find. Maybe with the magic you possessed, or liked to think that you possessed, it would be enough.

So, you went home, put on makeup, got dressed. You had to look good to feel confident. And headed to the bar.

So, naturally… You spent few hours looking around the bar, trying not to look suspicious, attempting to see him in vain. For a second you found yourself feeling like a predator, a siren, some succubus; looking for her prey. Willing it to appear. But that didn’t happen.

Naturally.

Why would it? Magic wasn’t real, you knew it. But it was nice to pretend sometimes. If magic wasn’t real then wishing for Riley to be okay was useless. Then none of it made sense.

You asked for another drink. It was time to come to your senses. Time to own up to everything, to the mess you found yourself orchestrating. Maybe you just had to come to terms with the fact that you didn’t deserve the life you wanted. Maybe you didn’t want it to begin with. Maybe Jim’s mother was right. You were playing a role, she saw right through you.

Jim’s mother was a hateful cunt. You downed the drink in one go and asked for another.

But she was right. You were playing roles for as long as you knew how to. You wanted to prove to others so badly that you’re worth something. Your parents always found a way to devalue your achievements; if they weren’t tangible, that meant they were up for grabs. And your parents grabbed them and twisted, making sure you understand that it wasn’t yours. And if it was, it was wrong somehow. They always found a flaw and made it their mission to put that flaw of yours on a pedestal of your being. So, you wanted to prove them you’re capable, reaching for every medal to drown that pedestal in gold. To show them that they weren’t wrong for pointing it out, because fuck, you weren’t perfect. But they were wrong for doubting you. For not loving you the way that you needed. For making you feel like the worst creature ever, for simply having emotions.

They made you feel evil for caring. Made you feel manipulative for having enough empathy to measure your reactions to circumstances. And you caved in, you trusted that they saw the real you, so you became what they wanted and tried to fix this person, so they recognize that it’s you, but you’re better now. And it never fucking worked. Tears of pure frustration and grief crawled down your face. Shameful tears, defeated. You tried t break this person you created with their help. Tried to become someone you respected for a change. Became an elite agent. And you did ruin her. You ruined her till there was nothing left but a smoldering ribcage that struggled to keep all the memories. You just had no idea that you’d have to live inside that girl you destroyed, after the fact. That this girl is all that you’ll ever have. Honest to God, you did not think of that.

“Got stood up?” – some guy sat down across you, a drink in his hand.

You tried to wipe the tears away with your fist and ended up pressing both hands to your eyes, a couple of sobs falling through, - “Just… Go!” – you almost growled, hating him for making you realize you’re in public. Hating him for making you be mean to another human. You weren’t mean. You were a good person.

The guy made a comedic face, loudly announcing ‘what a bitch’ to his friends to make his exist. You pressed the heels of your palms into your eyes, you face squeezing, tears dripping from the elbows, head shaking. Everything was the worst ever.

Is this how he deals with everything? Does whiskey treat him better? Does life treat him better? It doesn’t matter. You hoped it did. It did treat him better. If you could find something that would make the pain and the bitterness a little less intense, you’d take it. It wasn’t your fault alcohol just never worked. Nothing ever worked and maybe it was your fault after all. You breathed for a while, hands in your eyes, like it’s going to hide you. Waited till the noise got quieter. And left.

Another morning at noon. You felt like shit, staring at the white walls, perfectly pained. You did a good job. You were good at painting things over. Different paint, same walls underneath. Called off the plumbers, they insisted on coming over, claimed there was some thing with the new plastic tubes not being connected to the steel ones properly because they messed up; they could do it another day. You didn’t want to see a soul today. Or ever. Your ‘vacation’ was coming to it’s end soon, maybe routine will bring you back to life. It always helped. You were no good out of loop. Couldn’t be trusted with your own life. They were all right, all of them.

Maybe the dissociated state that you found yourself in was better than being unnerved at every little movement. Maybe it was better to feel nothing for a change, to think about nothing. There was no point in thinking about anything when everything was doomed anyway.

It wasn’t really, but it felt like it. You’d call up Clara, you’d go back to work, you’d see Jim’s smile, you’d hug Riley. It will all fall back. Another round at trying, a little more cracks here and there, but it will fall back. You noticed a tiny line on the wall, just next to the door, where the paint didn’t reach.

You still had some left, it was for the kitchen, but it didn’t matter if you had to waste a bucket to cover up that little mistake. You always paid an unreasonable price for the smallest mistakes, it made sense.

Just as you were finishing up, the phone rang. So loud it startled you and a big splash of paint crushed into your t-shirt, some streaks dripping down onto jeans. “Fuck” – you murmured and walked up to answer – “Yes?” – annoyed at no one but yourself.

Turned out you forgot your bag at the bar. Placed it carefully under the table, so no one spots an easy target to rob, as you cried your eyes out like a pathetic fool. Well, no one spotted; not even you.

You walked up to the bar, didn’t even care to change, not in the mood to drive (mostly, not in the condition to park, driving was the easy part). Thanked the bartender, making sure you’re extra nice to make up for your angry tone over the phone. Took your bag, tipping well for not keeping it to himself, checked the insides (all there) and was about to leave when you turned around and froze for a moment.

A huge surprised smile found it’s place on your face before you knew how to react. You saw him staring at you, a surprised face; perhaps his one was a little more sincere, you just played a role. Time to be social.

“What? Hey!” – you pointed awkwardly at him, at yourself and waved, laughing.

He smiled, rising his eyebrows shaking his head in disbelief – “Hey?”

You sat down at his table, a surge of uncontainable bravado coming over, - “What a… I did not expect…” – you laughed like it was the most bizarre coincidence in the world. Your head ringing.

He just shook his head agreeing, apparently, couldn’t find the words, it seemed, - “Me neither?”

You both laughed politely, nervously. What the actual fuck?

“Really?” – you were not ready for this. Autopilot speaking.

“What? Yeah, I… I promise I did not stalk you.” – he took a sip of something, smiling. Your eyes following the glass. Still drinking? You asked the bartender for a soda.

You were not prepared to see Leon. Especially not when you were wearing old jeans, an oversized t-shirt, all covered in paint, last night’s makeup barely rinsed with water, mascara still sitting around your eyes in black circles. You got yourself into it. Well, maybe your magic did work after all. Maybe it was him who had to be disappointed for you to let go.

You rubbed your eyebrows, stressed, but with a big polite grin.

“I did not even think of that, now you’re giving me ideas!” – you smiled. If only he knew. If only. – “So… Umm… What are you doing here?” – took a sip of the soda, it stuck in your throat.

He looked better than the last time you saw him. A clean shave, sitting up tall, same features, his hair cut recently - “Waiting for you apparently.”

You laughed, pointing at your clothes – “Well I wasn’t…”

“What…” – he looked you up and down, - “is that?”

You bit your lip and smiled proudly – “I’m renovating!”

“Renovating? Your apartment?” – was it even a real conversation?

How do you even talk to someone who used to live under your skin when you’re pretending to be strangers?

“Exactly. We’re moving in, with my fiancé and all… I decided to renovate it a little, before selling” – you kept smiling, looking away.

Boundaries. That’s how you do it.

“Your fiancé?” – you noticed his eyes scanning your fingers for a moment. You weren’t lying, you just didn’t wear the ring. – “That’s a… Congratulations.”

Congratulations? Really?

“Um… Thanks?” – suddenly you felt uncomfortable, your smile started to feel too fake to upkeep. You didn’t feel like it was something you had a right to accept congratulations for.

The initial shock backing out, taking the heightened boost of confidence with it. You sighed. What now?

A moment of silence.

“How’s the job?” – you looked at him, waiting for the answer so you could ask your questions. You had many.

“It’s fine. The usual.” – he looked more solemn by the second as well.

Why would he lie? The path to questions blocked. Was it his way to keep boundaries?

“Yeah well… I don’t want to hear about the usual.” – you tightened your face in a smile.

He was the one lying. You had it all figured out, your life, you didn’t lie; and he couldn’t be honest. So, it was you who’d be disappointed, not him.

“I know.” – he looked back at you. That was him, the eyes, not the polite bullshit. And suddenly it hurt more than you imagined.

“Yeah… Well.” – there was truly nothing else to say, - “You seem to love that usual so…” – except you had everything to say.

But you won’t. There was no point. Chose the job over you, obviously was fine with it. It was the past. He didn’t say anything. Had nothing to say, did he?

“You look thinner” – he commented, studying your frame.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, - “It’s just the t-shirt. And a lack of training. Muscles go down, you know. I gained weight actually.” – you tried hard to be nonchalant, talkative. That meant you were comfortable, people talked when they were comfortable. But you were anything but. So uncomfortable under his stare. He noticed you looked smaller; did he remember how you looked that well? How you felt? Does he still think about it?

He better not think about it. That would make you uncomfortable. You felt a slight burn under your eyes, heat spreading to your face.

“Okay.” – there was a glimmer of something mocking in his eyes.

“What?” – you tilted you head, exaggerated annoyance on your face. If you talked and if you were engaged, he might not see through you. Might be distracted.

“Nothing” – he pressed the glass to his lips.

“Oh, come on, what is it?”

He smiled into the glass, laughing to himself about something, - “Nothing, it’s just… Your idea of weight is hilarious. Always been.” – he swallowed whatever it was that he was drinking. Yeah, he’s so big and muscular and your weight is a joke in comparison, you get it. Very funny. You watched his neck move, remembering how it felt under your lips. ‘Always been’ so he remembers. Of course, he does, why wouldn’t he? People don’t just forget others, as much as you convinced yourself you could. Something stoic in you ordered to do everything in your power to make it stop. There had to be a way to make him unappealing.

“You still drink?” – come on, lie some more.

“Only before seeing you.” – he put the glass down, - “Kind of like a habit.”

He was basking in his humor before seeing your hurt expression, - “Come on, it was a joke.”

You just stared at him, wounded, - “It wasn’t funny.” – the muscles around your eyes contracted, but you kept it under control – “Was I a joke to you?”

Some sadness flickered in his eyes, a hint of shame? You needed more than a hint and a lot more than a flicker. How could he do this to you?

“I’m sorry.”

‘For the joke or…?” – you shrugged, mockingly. What was it? Spell it out, asshole.

He had this way of looking at you, like you were on the other side of the ocean and he was just trying to understand the message by clues. You were clear and loud.

What did he see on the other side? - “For everything.”

You scoffed, how typical. How easy. For everything. Everything, nothing. It was so simple. For everyone. No one. Always. Never.

“Okay.” – another fake smile, angry tears threatening to come out. You nodded, laughing, - “Okay.”

He blinked a couple times, faster than usual, sighed deeply, called your name. You were looking at the table. Nice wooden table, you’d like a table like that. Jim should get a table like that.

“I mean it. It wasn’t a joke for me either. It was hell.”

“Oh!” – you laughed, not bothering to wipe the tear that fell, it wasn’t a sad tear. It was rage, - “It was hell! That’s umm… Nice to know.”

He called your name again. Were you making a scene? Embarrassing him maybe?

“I apologize profusely for the hell that I was to you, the thing is - I did not know.” – you put a hand to your heart, it was pounding – “Honesty, I had no idea.”

He shook his head, annoyed at something. At himself, you hoped, - “Please?”

“What?” – you demanded.

“Don’t.”

“What?” – you shrugged.

“I’m happy to see you. Don’t… - “

“Oh, you’re happy? I’m sorry, I thought I was hell, I didn’t figure out you were happy. You’re just very hard to figure out, I guess.”

“It was hell seeing you go through… Everything. And it was hell making it worse.”

“It was your choice.”

“Was it?”

You shrugged, it was obvious, - “You could’ve quit.” – like you did now, you almost added.

“I really couldn’t” – he seemed so sincere. Liar. – “You can’t think it’s that easy.”

“I managed.”

“Yeah, and I had to pull some strings for that, strings that bind me.”

“What strings? Those missions? – he didn’t say a word, - “I didn’t ask you.” – more silence, - “You still could’ve left. Just stay, hide. It’s your goddamn life.” – it was ours.

“Yeah, you do that and they go after your family.”

“Well, you didn’t have one.” – you spat out before realizing you hurt him. That was just a fact, why is he acting hurt?

Oh. The realization hit. He meant you. They’d go after you. Family. You inhaled sharply through your nose, and blew the air out of your mouth.

“Anyway, I’m sorry. I did what I thought was right. And it seems to have worked out.”

“What are the indications?”

“You seem to be happy.” – it was a little ridiculous to say that in the situation, so you both laughed, tension relieved. You understood what he meant though and nodded.

He did what he thought was right. Leaving you was right. You heard enough and asked if he’d mind walking for a while, you needed some air.

And the night’s air was exactly what you needed. Wasn’t too cold, but inhaling it tickled your nose up to the forehead, a sensation to focus on. Something to keep you grounded.

You talked about your job at the university, briefly, small talk. About your life with Jim. A talk between strangers who once had a chance. Or whatever. Strangers who did the right thing. Strangers who weren’t convenient for each other anymore.

You found yourself looking for his approval. Telling him about how great your life was in all shapes and colors. He mostly listened. You talked about how friends disappear once you work for something you’re not allowed to talk about, he agreed. It was nice talking to someone who could relate, despite the hurt.

Your home security alarm went off, you set advanced motion detectors in each room, helped your anxiety to be under control. Or maybe helped your anxiety to take deeper roots, caving in to fears. It was your bathroom. Strangely, the alarm didn’t go off for the hallway, did someone enter through the ventilation? Leon asked if it could be Riley, your heart sank. You told him Riley was taken away, that she’s having a surgery tomorrow. He asked many questions about the apartment, practical ones, tactical even; about the windows and who had the keys, but insisted he’d check it out with you. ‘You won’t go there alone’. Oh, but you could. And he knew you could. You’d stare at the walls for days afterwards, listening to the sounds outside of your window, like a broken robot, but you could. You had a feeling you’d be doing that regardless. It was sweet that he was acting like a gentleman. And you couldn’t lie, you wanted him around. Just somewhere around. You felt like he took away some vigilance. Like you could finally not overthink what was happening over your shoulders.

Reminiscing the missions you took on together, you got inside, expecting anything but what has really happened.

The plumbers were right, the tubes were not connected right; you entered a steamed-up apartment, hot water pouring out of the bathroom. Ditching the jackets in the hallway, Leon turned the screw between the tubes as you blocked water supply, making jokes about it rather being robbers.

“I just hope I don’t flood the neighbors.” – you said, mopping up the remaining water.

“You’re selling it anyway, think of them as somebody else’s neighbors.”

You laughed, just noticing how he got wet all over.

“Hold up, I’ll get you dry clothes.” – you walked away followed by his loud protests.

He genuinely looked upset, angry and embarrassed as you handed him a pile of clothes. You couldn’t just send him home soaking wet, could you?

You also realized you had to make tea. Him being home put your mind at ease. Except it wasn’t home, it was a half-destroyed by your ‘renovations’ apartment for sale, and he wasn’t there really, just happened to step in. It didn’t matter. It was enough for your brain to feel better and you’d take it.

Leon walked out of the bathroom in dry clothes, a look of absolute confusion on his face, - “Is this my clothes?”

Whose clothes did he think you’d give him?

“Yeah, obviously.”

He didn’t say a word. You pointed him to sit, a cup of mint tea ready. He took a sip, contemplating something, frowning even.

“What’s the matter?”

He looked at you, an expression you couldn’t read. That was new. – “Why do you have my clothes?”

“You left it here. You… kept it here.” – you explained. Was he suggesting you stole it?

“No, I know that. Why do you keep it?”

That was a weird question. – “What was I supposed to do with it? Throw it away?”

“I guess.”

You both stared at each other in utter confusion. Was he being weird or were you weird for not throwing it away? Why did it seem weird now? Even to you. But how could you?

You never touched it nor looked at it. Kept it hidden at the back of your wardrobe. How could he suggest that you’d throw it away? You spent a couple years by now, dreading that all that will be left of him was a bag of dust. You’d like to have something to hold on to.

These thoughts made your heart race. He was alive and well. Next to you. Talking. Looking confused, but that will do. That means Riley is going to be alright. No one is turning into ashes, not today. Not ever.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t have a heart to… You should take it. You can take it back. There’s another t-shirt I think…”

You didn’t want to weird him out. You were a little unsettled, but he had to understand.

He sighed, looked around, something heavy on his mind. You knew, yeah, same. Fucking same.

He stood up, - “About Riley…” – he started. You stood up as well, alarmed. Did he know something? You realized he probably knew they put down dogs that weren’t useful. Who spent time off duty. Just to spite the good. They were evil like that. You knew that, refused to think about it, but you knew. Took one person you cared about, now they were about to kill your dog. Your happy little girl. She wasn’t a soldier; she never saw blood. Just your pain. Spent her whole life with your sadness, maybe it was better for her to be taken away, you were ready to hear anything, - “Don’t worry about it. I’ll see how things are and report back, okay?” – you tried to breathe evenly, there’s no need to be weird. – “She’s going to back in no time.”

You nodded, a bit too much. Okay. Yes. You’d like that. There was no logical reason to believe him, you knew he was out of the system and lied. But he never let you down when it came to these things. Until he did, once. You’d forgive that.

You’d forgive anything. Your façade broken, standing there, looking at him. A collection of pieces put together all wrong. Barely holding on, out of place. You smashed those pieces even when they didn’t fit, applying too much force in anger. It was all spite and resilience. But he made you feel like your rage was excessive. And it all fell apart. Every time you saw him after he came back from these missions, you’d fall apart. Like the strings holding it all together gave up on you. Like the whole world gave up on you, but not him. He was back and he was okay with the scattered pieces. It hurt putting it all back together when he left. But it hurt holding on to this monstrous cadaver as well.

You took a step and he hugged you, one arm over the shoulders, space in between. Like a goodbye hug between friends. You reciprocated, hugged him tighter, both hands, your temple touching his ear, cheek touching a side of his neck. Right there, this is where you belonged. For a moment the world made sense.

You could easily let him lie to you, hurt you, it didn’t matter. You tried to live without him and you failed. You knew better now. He smelled good; right. Did he know it was yours? The way he smelled, that you carried it in your heart, that meant it was yours. Did he know that he was yours?

Did he realize that you were his? For what it was worth. For no reason at all.

He put a second hand on your shoulder and you didn’t wait for him to kiss you, you waited too long, it was too slow, you went for it. He stalled you with a hand, warm hand gripping your collarbone.

“Leon…” – you slurred, nudging your head. It was all there. Everything in the world.

He almost whispered, - “What are you doing?”

What were you doing? You didn’t know. You didn’t think. You did what made sense, there was no use to think about it, that was the point. That’s why it was right. You looked at his face, glass eyes, blown. You loved him. That’s what you were doing. You lunged forward, him stopping you once more, he called your name, carefully. Calling to you to understand something. There was nothing to understand.

“You’re engaged. What is this?” – tone upset but still sympathetic, like a teacher who found it’s most promising student cheating on a test. ‘I will let it slide, but don’t do this again’ tone. ‘Don’t you see where this is going’ tone. ‘You’re better than that’ tone. You weren’t better. And you didn’t care.

“I don’t care,” – you were honest. You’ll break up tomorrow, it wouldn’t matter then, why should it matter now? There was a delay, but ultimately the outcome would be this. Why did it matter?

“You should.” – Leon not even looking at you, looking at his hand holding your frame.

“I don’t,” – you repeated. No emotion, just honesty.

“I do.”

“You shouldn’t,” – you got closer, just for him to hold you tighter in place, keeping space.

“I should. And you should. You can’t do this.” – some anger coming to the surface, - “You’re not using me to ruin your life.”

You couldn’t process anything he was saying. This concerned look on his face, like you were in some altered state, like you weren’t all there. But you were. You were all there. All there and nowhere else.

“Kiss me?” – you pleaded, you didn’t have it in you to talk, there was nothing to talk about.

“No.”

“Please?” – you begged.

“I’m seeing someone.”

He let go when he was sure you wouldn’t attempt to get closer. But you didn’t get it. So what? It was great that he was seeing someone. He was seeing you at the moment though. And you were seeing him. So close and real and it felt like home. “Okay.” – you said.

“You’re going to be okay?” – he took his jacket. You didn’t understand whether it was a question or a statement. Everything a blur. You nodded. Whatever he said. And he was gone.

It was okay. He was okay, looked great, healthy, better. Riley would be okay. That’s what you decided earlier, if he’s okay, then she’s okay. And if they are okay, you’ll be fine. And he promised she’ll be back. Between her and him, at least Riley will be back.

You slept in peace.

Called the plumbers in the morning, watched them fix the problem. You were happy they had this ability to fix something. Just few hours ago there was a problem, and now the problem was gone. You weren’t jealous, but you admired it. You made peace with the idea that your problems weren’t up for any fixing.

You weren’t made to fix anything, just to break. That’s the way you were brought up. You build just to break. Then you stand there looking at the ruins, lamenting the parts you got used to. And you dream about them, then you wake up.

It won’t be any different this time. It just won’t be any different.

And it was comforting.

You sipped a day-old tea, thinking about anything but the future. Tea leaves grow for some time, they must think being connected to earth, sucking in sunlight and being green is what their life is all about. They must find comfort in that. Then they get ripped, and dried. And it must feel like death, like there’s nothing ahead. The green turning brown, curling up on themselves to find some comfort. And then, it only makes sense if they find some peace being under the sun, they realize their existence is all about something different now. Still in the sun, still whatever they used to be, but different. And just as they come to terms with it, they get boiled. And it must feel like a death too, but you bet water soothes them, makes them soft again, takes away all the pain and the sunlight they’ve been hold onto, the flavor. And it’s all good once more. Then you drink it. You drink it and you think that you’ll be fine.

It was exhausted being sorry for simply being you. Food felt like an enemy. Sometimes you wished there was something wrong with you. Something that would make people feel sorry for you. To inspire pity instead of resentment. You got blamed and hit for the things that hurt you too. Beating you when you’re down. To teach you a lesson, like they had a right and like it was noble and you knew. You knew and you agreed, but it wasn’t your fault. You wish you were different. You tried to be different. You wanted people to recognize it. You wanted them to see that no, you didn’t do this to yourself. You did, but you wish you didn’t.

You wish you could be as coherent as others. You wish they recognized that you were on their side. On their side against yourself. You agreed with every punishment. Weren’t you good enough at least for that? Haven’t you secured a place on the Noah's Ark for yourself with that? Haven’t you earned it? You didn’t want to be left alone with all the monsters to be forgotten.

It was cruel to create a monster just to have someone to hate. But if that’s the role, you’d play it. Clinging to at least some belonging.

The dinner that you hosted at your apartment the next day came to its conclusion. Just like everything. Free trial of a life that never was yours. Jim praised you one more time, one last time perhaps. He reached in his pocket to check the keys before going out, took out a small circular metal piece, his mood transforming. It felt like watching a scene from a movie you already saw. A hundred times; you used to watch it as a kid, rewatched it with friends growing up, sharing the experience. So, by now, it was too familiar to engage.

“You know, I’m not even angry with you. i just know… I know that it’s gonna catch up to you.” – fast forward to where Jim was done trying to make you change your mind. He never had a chance, - “It’s women like you. you think the world is your playground. You take what you want and you get away with it.” – He was holding the ring, shaking it; you imagined the ring wasn’t there, he’d look as if he’s making an impression of an Italian, - “You want a new job, you take it. You want to change it, you do it. You want a new hobby, you go after it, leaving the old one half way, after you already purchased God knows how many-… You want someone’s attention, you trade people.” – He was struggling to make a point. Was there a point to make? – “And you think it’s all you. You think it’s your choice, but you do not choose. You’re being chosen because you’re a nice choice, you’re expendable. And your problem is, you think you’ll keep getting away with it, but you won’t. Once you get older, and trust me you don’t have much left, you will find out that the real world is different. The doors that people open up for you will be closed and you will be miserable, lonely and old. Knowing it’s all your fault. Knowing that you discarded every good thing you put minimal effort into because you thought you could get something better because the world lied to you, and you actually believed you deserved better. Because you’re ungrateful, selfish, self-absorbed-…” – there it is, - “Next time you play the victim, I want you to remember that. I know you’ll make all this,” – he gestured around, - “, into you being a victim somehow as well. I want you to know it’s your fault.”

You stared at him, stirred your tea in a cup, tea leaves looked relaxed in pale yellow liquid, - “What the fuck do you know about the real world? Your parents paid your way into college.” – all you said calmly.

And that’s how he was gone.

Jim was right about so many things, he was smart. But he was also full of anger. In his world, everything fell into place. All he had to do was to agree to it. And he assumed it was the same with you. That you just didn’t agree with the pieces that didn’t assemble easily. It wasn’t true. This was the only part he was wrong about. You had to work for every piece. You had to work for everything you ever had, because no one handed you a thing, punishing you for not being the way they wanted you to be. And when you work hard for it, you have every right to let it go. It’s yours to destroy. And you’ll work to make something else, you have it in you.

And it won’t work again, but it was okay. You sat alone; your apartment half-renovated, half-destroyed, half-old. Fitting. You will never sell it for anything better. You couldn’t know what to do with anything better. Didn’t deserve anything better, and the better didn’t deserve you.

A surge of relief came over; you thanked the universe for dragging you out of the state of constantly worrying about your kids. It felt like saving someone who never existed. Just imagine the lives of children raised by someone who ruined everything she created and a man grudging this much resentment and hate towards whatever she created. They would be so hated and ruined. They wouldn’t be. You had too much love in you to let them go through something like this.

If the only love that was yours to give was meant to be distant, you’d take it. You’d love people enough to keep them away. All you wanted in return was their understanding. You hoped they were thankful.

You could never fix yourself, so you tried to fix others, disregarding boundaries because how could you not? You were giving them the best of you, the only good you had, and watched them walk away. It didn’t work out well. So, you tried giving yourself to those who didn’t need fixing. And figured you had nothing to give. All you had was broken parts that could fit to cover up the cracks. You didn’t have a full thing. Came pre-damaged in a box that wasn’t carefully delivered.

Your thesis project never revealed itself because you couldn’t work on something you didn’t fully care about. And working on something you cared about was too personal, too intimate. You feared others reading it and seeing all your vices. Realizing you’re a bad person. It would ruin all the chances of clinging to the image you attempted to grow into. But right now, it didn’t matter. You set your mind on the project. You’d write about the therapeutic relationship, the relationship between a healthcare professional and a client, from the perspective of a professional. It was decided long ago and just now fell into place. And you’d do it for the sake of stating your piece, not for a PhD. You had nothing to prove. You proved yourself enough. And it was enough.

Riley was happy to be back, greeting you at the clinic. It was just a harmless cyst they removed. You still had your suspicions, but they were subsided when you signed the papers. Apparently, there was an issue with you being a handler, they were evaluating whether they should make you go through the procedures proving you really needed a service animal, not just an emotional support pet. In truth, you needed Riley, and Riley needed you, her wagging tail and hugs being the confirmation.

Riley didn’t know you were a fuck-up. Riley loved you through the worst. It was selfish of you, but you were selfish like that. There was no changing something this fundamental.

You sat in the car looking at her. Where would you take her? Your apartment still a mess, paint and wallpaper, dismantled furniture.

Was it worse to not be able to ever get what you want, or to be able to get whatever, but to never know what it is that you wanted? Every desire, every effort, every door leading to the wrong room. And then you have to fight your way out.

You blamed others for not seeing you your whole life, but now you didn’t even see yourself. It wasn’t all bad, all good, but just enough chaos to make the effort trying to decipher it all useless.

So, the effort was useless. It was the right thing to leave you all along, he was right. Leon was smart as well. He’d rather drown himself in poison than see you, and leaving you was right. He was seeing someone. You hoped that was someone better. Someone worth the effort. There was no jealousy. If he had something good, it would be something you weren’t fitted for regardless. It’s not like someone could ever take your place, you had no place to occupy. But you were his, in a way. You hoped he didn’t think about it too much, but it would be good if he knew that. And he was yours. In some way. No one could take it away, not even him.

A when he came over in few days, you sensed that he knew. Leon claimed that he wanted to make sure Riley’s home. You thanked him, for asking, for aiding, you didn’t know if it was his doing. You knew, but you didn’t know if it made seeing him easier. Still sedated by the events, you figured it’s best not to do too much. For when emotions were to kick it, it would be too much rubble to pick the good out of. You were ready for the mess; all you could do was make it less of a problem for your future self.

And Riley was about to sleep, you spent the day locking all the mess in your room, so she can be safe. So, you went outside, for a walk. Didn’t want the image of him in your apartment to linger. You’d never finish renovating, wouldn’t dare to let go. Stubborn. It didn’t matter now, but it would later. Cushioning the fall is the only strategy you subscribed to.

You walked for some time; he was still walking with the version of you that still had it all together. You didn’t know with which version of him you were walking. It didn’t matter, you were okay with any version. He was asking questions about your work again, a safe topic. Keeping the distance. You already told him everything there was to tell. What was even the point?

“Do you like me?”

He looked at you, from the other side of the ocean. It wasn’t storming this time. Still water, perhaps more dangerous than the waves, - “What kind of question is that?” – he hesitated, careful, - “Of course I like you.”

“No, I know…” you wanted to have a conversation, not with your ex-boyfriend, ex-partner, not with a friend or a guy you were trying to steal from someone, not with any social role you were forced to play. You wanted to ask him, soul to soul. Outside of time and space. Honest opinion, no obligations. – “I know… But do you like me?”

The raw honesty in your voice made him realize it was larger than that, - “I do…” – he slowed down slightly, - “I always liked you… I admire you, you know.”

You didn’t like that answer. What’s worse is that it didn’t feel like a lie, - “So you don’t know me at all then.”

“I do know you.” – he’s almost offended at that. That’s good, let him be offended and tell what he actually thinks, - “I always did… I didn’t understand you at first.” – good, you wanted details, - “It didn’t make sense to me why you even volunteered for training to begin with. Thought you were naïve. You had a choice and you didn’t have to do it. I didn’t have a choice,” – he was recalling, - “But then I realized that it made me angry because I envied you.” – that was new, you tried to place those feelings of his onto your memories, it didn’t land. He saw your efforts and clarified, - “That was before we started talking.” Did he think about you before you actually worked together? You didn’t even know of him before that. – “And it was comforting, that someone with something to lose would choose to do what I had to. Made me feel better about the whole thing. For a while…”

You wanted to make him see, it was fraud, - “Yeah well, I don’t stick to my choices.”

“I know. That’s what I like about you. You know what you want and you’re not afraid to do whatever it takes to get it.” – so confident and so wrong, - “And when you don’t want it anymore, you’re not afraid to let go.” – wrong again.

“Yeah, I’m not sure about that…” – you sighed.

“I’m sure. What is it about anyway?” – he finally glued his eyes off the pavement and looked at you, - “Cold feet?”

“What?” – you looked back.

He was looking at you with the care and sympathy of a pet owner before putting said pet to sleep, - “The wedding and all.”

“Oh,” – you caught the drift, - “No.” – he had primitive thoughts, you were figuring yourself out, not chickening out before the altar. You never even got there in your own head, why did he drag you there in his thoughts, weirdo - “What are you… No!” – you looked scandalized, - “We broke up actually.”

“What?” – you liked surprising people, - “When? I didn’t know that.” – he’s suddenly not so dramatic anymore, - “What happened?”

“Nothing.” – you muttered, still mad at him for marrying you off in his head.

“People don’t call off weddings without a reason”

For fucks sake, - “There was no wedding. There was an engagement for no reason, we ended it for no reason.”

“So, it was mutual?”

The image of Jim shaking the ring in anger appeared before you, - “More or less.”

Leon tried to suppress some weird emotion. You gave him a mean side-eye. Gloating that you failed at something decent? You thought of him better.

“I’m sorry.” – the change in his pace begged to differ.

“I should be” – you say, mirroring his words earlier, - “But I’m not.”

“So, there will be no doves at the wedding after all.”

“Who even does that anymore?” – why was he so fixated on that fucking… - “Oh.” – you got the joke. Doves. Dove. Him and his fucking jokes. You wanted to hit him.

It was cathartic for you. You wanted him to hang onto your words, looking into your eyes and have a deep conversation, not this childish… - “As I said, this is why I like you, you’re brave.”

Where was this coming from?

“You don’t like something and you’re not afraid to let it go.”

“I am afraid.” – you corrected, he had you all wrong, - “I’m so afraid, actually, all the time. You know it.”

“That’s the part of it. You’re afraid and you still do it. Can’t be brave if you’re not afraid at all.” – he’d make a great motivational speaker.

“There’s a difference between being brave and being stupid.”

“I’ve never seen you do anything stupid.”

“You’re blind then.” – the conversation you wanted to be profound turned into some elementary bickering at this point.

“Name one thing.”

“I’ll name a hundred.”

“Go ahead, I’m all ears.”

Something broken tugged on your heart at that, calling in pain from the rubble. Something buried alive under all the mess. The screams you tried to ignore.

“Let you go.”

And with that you killed the comfort you organized between each other. Destroying boundaries once again, your forte.

He ignored it, pretended you didn’t say it. Shut off. He wanted to hear it, he asked. Are you to blame again?

“It was the smartest you’ve ever been.” – he finally said, taking your hand in his for comfort, a sign that he wasn’t mad you brought it up. Words so heavy with sadness, but there was no anger directed at you.

You were walking in circles by then, just patrolling the streets, no goals and no directions.

“Not how I see it.” – you doubled down, your hand fit so right in his. You loved ruining things.

He just squeezed your hand slightly, like he understood where you were coming from, but didn’t agree.

You felt worlds away. He was somewhere in his head you couldn’t reach, somewhere in the past with his codename references, somewhere in the future with his fantasies of your wedding. You were nowhere but in the present. And it made sense, you had no place in his present. But you were there, and he refused to let you in. It was lonely. It felt lonely holding his hand when he was like this.

“Don’t be mad at me.” – you found your voice in silence.

He looked at you, tired confusion, - “What happened?”

“Just in general.” – you trembled.

He stopped to take a look at you. There was no point. He wouldn’t get it.

“I just…” – you felt the tears coming, - “Everyone is mad at me.” – you confessed.

He pulled you in closer like a bag of bones and hugged, - “Hey… Come on...” – he caressed your head. Pity hug. You were okay with it. You wanted pity. Didn’t care if it was pathetic.

“Let them be mad,” – he said in secrecy.

“I’m going to die alone and everyone’s going to be mad at me.” – not even Clara could get that truth out of you.

Leon took you by the shoulders and looked you straight in the eyes, testing if you were serious about something this ridiculous. It wasn’t ridiculous, it was true.

“Who told you that?”

“I did.”

He just blinked, thoughts running through, - “Well don’t say that,” – like it was this simple, - “Fuck, don’t say that.” – he cradled you in his arms again, hold closer, let go and pressed his lips to yours, soft, - “Don’t fucking say that, okay?”

You blinked, trying to assess the situation, grabbed his jacket, so he doesn’t go anywhere while you’re on it. You just needed a moment; ‘don’t you dare disappear.’ ‘Don’t you dare disappear on me again.’

“You-…” – you looked, eyes hazy, confused. And he kissed you again. This time a proper kiss, you made a sound to get his attention. Hold on. Just hold on, now. Break.

“I thought you were seeing someone.” – you whispered, accusing. It was okay for you to disregard others like that, you held him to a higher standard.

“I’m not seeing anyone.” – he looked like he’d say anything to get back to kissing you, a sudden change from the cold shoulder hugs and hand squeezing just moments ago.

“Did you break-up-…” - Did he feel it too? Did he realize no one else comes close? Had to breakup just after seeing you once?

“No, there wasn’t anyone. I just said that.” – that will do. Or will it?

“Why would you just say something like that?”

“I don’t know. I got scared.”

What? – “You got scared?”

“Yeah, I got scared. You were about to ruin everything, because you got carried away for a moment.” – you could feel his heart beating from where you were holding onto his jacket, - “Couldn’t let you do that. And then you’d hate me for it.”

“I would never hate you.” – you kissed him this time, and he pulled you closer, - “I wouldn’t” – you promised.

“Sorry,” – he said in between kisses, the wind cold on wet lips now, - “You scare me sometimes.”

“Why did you lie about the service?” – you cupped his face, kisses growing more aggressive, - “You quit.”

“I didn’t” – he got his lip bitten for that, he hissed, - “It’s not that simple, got suspended, ‘be dragged back next time they need me anyway.”

You needed a wall or any surface, pin him down. Make him confess more.

“Where do you live?” – you looked at his lips, hungry for the truth. Him. Drag him in the present. Make it all fit.

“Hotel. I moved. Only came here to see you.”

“Liar.” – you tugged on his hair, - “You visit the shop for your bike here every couple months.”

“It’s a good shop.” – he smiled at your assertiveness, and you pulled his hair stronger this time, he groaned, pained expression, - “I came here to see you before.”

So, he was visiting your lecture that one time. Turns out you were on the same page after all.

You patted down his hair, soothing. Kissed him more. Satisfied with the answers, for now.

“Are you stalking me?” – he smiled.

“Yes.” – you were honest, - “I’m crazy.”

“I know that,” – he looked proud, - “I like that.” – he joked. Maybe he wasn’t joking.

His hotel room was empty, organized, nothing to study. You wanted to know everything he was up for when you weren’t together. What else was he hiding? The frustration apparent in your aggression, clawing at his clothes, slapping his hands away when they got in the way, like you wanted to punish him for taking too long. He fought you to get his way with kissing and holding you how he wanted giving you a lot of grace. Yielding only until he wasn’t. And you took advantage of the soft spot he had for your temper. Shameless. He liked you for taking whatever you wanted. You wanted him. His body and soul and his life. All to yourself. If that was a lie, he’d have to deal with consequences.

But it didn’t seem like he was lying. Not one bit. It was the most honest you witnessed him to be. Grabbing the clothes off you to claim any unkissed territory. Kept saying something incomprehensible into your lips, your skin, it was all a blur of ‘missed you’, and ‘need you’ and you knew. “I know” you breathed him in, “I know” - you understood, yearning painfully radiating. He was the only one to make you feel like this. To make you feel this. All of this.

You felt the urgency and trembling need to wrap the reality to make it faster, get there as soon as possible. Tugging and pulling, and moving, begging Leon not to wait any longer. Like you might not make it on time, like he won’t meet you there, until you found yourself at the edge. And it felt like you were about to jump into the abyss. Like with every thrust he brought you closer to a fatal explosion, like it will ruin you forever. But he was right there with you, he wouldn’t do that to you.

You tried to stall him and suddenly you felt every atom in your body tremor, shake and break away from your form, leaving you floating in the space, black, white, just blank… A spark of color appeared in the nothingness; magenta, purple, orange, red, cyan. It felt like all the brightest colors at once, somehow together, but not mixing. You saw them all at the same time, able to differentiate but they were all united. All existing everywhere and you were a part of it too.

Another one, a trail of sparks outlining your neck, his lips brought you back into your form, you managed to feel where the space ended and your body began, your body. You left the state of absolution and came into your body for him. Only for him.

He kissed your neck back into its shape, his hand lifting your back to pull you closer, reminding you of how your shoulder blades move. Your body was real again and it could move. He’d always pull you up for contact despite being on top of you. Like he didn’t want to give you up to the ground, like he wanted you to be his alone. You shift your legs along his hips, the sensation of his skin making them real again, and when he pulls out, the tug at your core concludes the ritual and you’re fully back on earth, transformed; remains of galaxies that couldn’t fit spilling out.

You breathe, looking in his eyes with your brand-new ones. Does he know you’re seeing for the first time?

It looks like he doesn’t. It looks like he doesn’t know, nor understands a thing. Like he just witnessed a miracle: a woman appeared under him out of star dust, and he doesn’t yet know how to process it, but he’s not surprised. He can’t be. Not when he willed her into existence. No, it’s not a surprise, he’s in awe. Like he put his all into this conjuring but wasn’t sure it was even possible to succeed.

He pressed his forehead to yours, like a silent prayer to keep you from disappearing into the light, like a solemn promise to be a silent witness of this miracle; a promise between him and you or him and God, the universe. It seemed like all three collided.

You couldn’t tell if you agreed with this, but if any Godly being was what created humans, you felt like it worked through Him to return the particles that made you who you are, inside of this physical form, lying on the bed next to Him. Perfectly assembled, whole again. You were just drawn to this power he was bestowed with, to be closer. To make it happen. Just two entities, doing what fate woven into its plan since the start.

It felt right. And in the morning, it felt right when his hand was lying on your stomach, you didn’t have to think about it twice, or at all. It was the hand that was meant to be there. He traced the scar on your side, you traced the knuckles on his hand.

“Riley must be awake by now” – he said that morning.

And you answered, - “Let’s go home.”

And that morning he said – “Yeah, let’s go.”

And that evening you asked him if he’s going to help you with your apartment. Make a home out of this mess. And he also said ‘yes’.

And you finally realized that yes. You did get what you wanted. Took some time to figure it out and some effort to get there, but you will always get what you wanted. Let them be mad.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #second reason #part 2

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dolliethv · 8 months ago

Text

One Of The Girls.

summary: English is not my first language, so if you notice any mistakes I'm sorry!! Hiii, this is a pretty TO long story, I wanted to write something with a lot of sexual tension and a lot of smut, read it calmly and I hope you enjoy it xoxo!!

Pairing: Jude Bellingham x fem reader!!

Word count: about 6k

You weren't sure if attending Jude's party was a good idea, but something inside you—maybe the excitement of Halloween and the thought of celebrating with your group of friends, or perhaps the hope of seeing him—convinced you. Jude's huge, new house in Madrid, decorated with lit pumpkins and fake cobwebs, gleamed in the distance, full of people already enjoying the night.

You stepped inside, and strobe lights danced on the walls, while laughter and music filled the air. You grabbed a drink as you passed by the improvised bar, trying to relax. You hadn’t taken more than two steps when you felt that familiar gaze tracing your body. You slowly turned, and there he was, Jude, leaning against the wall, his eyes fixed solely on you.

You wished the ground would swallow you because your damn group of friends was headed straight toward Jude Bellingham’s group. Of course, they all knew each other.

After your friends had chatted enough with the other group, you decided to take the lead.

"Couldn’t you put a little more effort into your costume?" That was the first thing you asked when you finally looked him in the eyes for the first time that night.

Curious about what he was actually dressed as?

Seriously? A simple cop uniform? You could bet your life on the fact that men have zero originality—they always go for the easy option. Lord, give me patience.

You absolutely hated basic Halloween costumes. Anything that took less than ten minutes and minimal effort didn’t deserve attention. It might seem a bit over the top, but given the number of creative ideas this particular holiday offered, you just couldn’t stand it.

Not when you even designed and made your own costume for the occasion.

But it was funny how quickly Jude changed your mind.

Basic is good. Basic is great. Damn it.

"What’s your costume supposed to be, anyway?" Jude continued, his voice calm but his body still a bit tense.

"It’s Suki from Fast and Furious!" Drew, one of Jude’s friends, shouted loud enough that the music barely muffled it.

He wasn’t even trying to hide his blatant staring, but truthfully, neither of you cared. You turned and headed off with your friends to who knows where.

You knew you looked good. You’d worked particularly hard on your outfit for tonight, so you had no reason to hide. Everything was perfectly planned, from head to toe.

Minutes passed, and you tried to convince yourself there was no reason to panic, but there were a lot of people, and your outfit was a bit too revealing. So, when you felt hands around your waist, you were ready to scream for whoever it was to back off.

"It's me."

Oh my God, you almost had a heart attack.

Jude pulled you against him, your back pressed to his chest, his left hand settling on your hip while his right extended around your shoulder to not-so-gently push people aside. The tall, dark-haired boy didn’t take long to start moving you both, making space with his prominent frame when people were too slow to get out of the way, shoving them until he cleared a path for both of you.

Stupid party, stupid Jude Bellingham. It was his fault you ended up there anyway. Jude may not have seen your face, but he definitely felt how tense you were in his arms.

"Why the bad attitude?"

Bad attitude? You didn’t know much about attitudes, but all your limited knowledge vanished when he pulled you even closer.

You cleared your throat briefly, your words followed by a slight shake of your head.

"Am I the one with the bad attitude?" you replied.

Because truthfully, you’d been on your best behavior since you got to that house. Or at least trying.

Jude loved driving you crazy; he thought you looked damn adorable acting tough at barely 5'1".

"By the way, you look amazing."

It was a great move, saying something so flattering to ease the tension.

"Thanks," you murmured, not caring whether he heard, your eyes glued to the back of the guy Jude was elbowing out of the way.

Two stomped-on feet and a "Are you gonna move or what the hell are you waiting for?" later, you were finally out of the chaos.

Well, as far out of danger as you could be at a party and in a house full of mostly strangers.

However, Jude didn’t stop there. He guided you to what you vaguely recognized as the first hallway on the right, his hands never leaving your body. It wasn’t unpleasant for you, not at all, but you both drew more than a few curious stares. It didn’t bother you much now that your closest friends knew. Other people’s opinions of you were never the most positive anyway, but you were surprised at how little Jude seemed to care, considering it was his house.

When you finally stopped, you found yourselves where you’d suspected a few moments earlier, slightly sheltered from the loud music. There were a few other people around, but they were far enough away not to intrude on your conversation.

Jude released you a few seconds before turning you around and wrapping his arms around you again, pulling you close as he leaned against the wall.

"I like your hairstyle; it’s cute," he said, grabbing a lock of your hair between his fingers. "Scratch that. Actually, I love how sexy you look with your hair down."

You were starting to seriously regret the day you told Jude you wouldn’t mind being complimented daily because it was getting out of hand.

How were you supposed to function properly when Jude kept looking at you with dark eyes?

You swallowed hard, shifting your gaze to the side of his face to avoid dealing with the intensity of his stare. You needed to say something and had to do it now.

"People were staring at us."

Of course, your voice trembled, and of course, out of all the things you could’ve said, you picked the one with the most potential to ruin the moment.

Jude was being very open tonight, and while you didn’t dislike it, it was new and somehow made him even more intimidating. All you could focus on was trying to stay afloat, despite involuntarily melting into the warmth of his touch and the comfort of his voice.

"When you look like that, baby, of course, people are going to stare."

You were getting nervous so quickly that it was unreasonable. Your breathing was already picking up, and butterflies were fluttering, one by one, to the point that you could no longer distinguish between those in your heart and those in your stomach.

This was exactly why you shouldn’t stay away from Jude for too long.

"News travels fast, Bellingham. Especially when you’re the footballer of the moment."

But with Jude, you didn’t have to worry. Jude could take care of both of you, and maybe you shouldn’t trust him, but God, it felt so good to be protected.

You desperately wanted to kiss him. Every brush of his thumb against your skin was electrifying. You needed to be closer, needed more, and this time, it had nothing to do with lust.

It was the kind of need you hadn’t felt before, the kind that demanded an exchange of feelings, even if not through words. Even if you tore off your clothes and pressed skin to skin, chest to chest, heartbeat to heartbeat, it wouldn’t be enough. You wanted to be inside Jude’s mind, to share all his thoughts, to experience the unknown, to finally understand each other, but you were too scared.

You couldn’t get there just yet.

"Your costume is stupid," you finally said, your voice coming out a bit more determined.

Jude’s lips curled into a smile, which quickly turned into a laugh that disappeared just as fast, but it was definitely something worth remembering.

"You’re so good at flirting," he purred sarcastically. "Tell me more."

You thought you might be able to keep a straight face, but as soon as you saw him smile, you followed. There was something so addictive about it, maybe the fact that you didn’t see it often, but it definitely made Jude ten times more attractive.

And he was already too attractive to begin with. God.

"It really is stupid," you confirmed your own thoughts, your fingers trailing up to fix the collar of Jude’s cop uniform. "But you look so sexy. I don’t know why I’m so into this kind of stuff."

You knew you weren’t the only one. It’s not for nothing that women love men in uniform.

"You don’t like the uniforms; you like the authority behind them. Or should I say, you’re afraid of it?"

Even though you had the same smile, Jude looked completely different, but he was right. You always felt uneasy around any kind of authority figure.

Watching Jude—with the quite noticeable height and body size difference compared to you, with the sleeves of his uniform stretching around his biceps every time he moved—you couldn’t blame yourself for feeling a bit nervous.

And to top it all off, a pair of very real-looking handcuffs hung from his belt.

So yeah, you gave up your principles about liking the basic for one night, but Jude had chosen a really good costume to spark your imagination.

"Honestly..." Jude grabbed your chin and pulled you even closer, his eyes fixed on your lips. "I wouldn’t mind being a cop if it meant I could make pretty things like you tremble."

As if he needed to be a cop to do that. Idiot.

As if you didn’t already find him intimidating enough without the costume. As if your knees didn’t buckle and your body didn’t heat up every time Jude looked you in the eyes for more than three seconds.

"I think that’d be an abuse of power."

Very socially aware of you, but it might be more believable if you stopped looking at him like you wanted him to take advantage of you. You know it's wrong to think that.

Jude hummed, sliding his thumb over your lower lip before pressing it and pulling it down. The movement was so sudden it made you hiss. It was almost embarrassing how willing you were for Jude to do whatever he wanted, to play with your body however he pleased, without questioning the reason.

"It isn’t if you enjoy it."

Their heads tilted to opposite sides, moving closer with lips tingling from the desire to kiss. You could feel Jude exhale before gently pressing his body against yours and brushing his mouth against yours when—

"Bellingham!"

Both grimaced, and you quickly jumped back, your hands starting to smooth out the wrinkles in your clothes. You didn’t turn around or look at Jude; you didn’t want to know if someone had really seen you and didn’t want to deal with it.

Jude’s friends weren’t the type of people he enjoyed talking to, so it would be weird to find yourself in a situation where you had to pretend to be a bit interested in what they had to say.

"Oh, hey," Jude responded with much less enthusiasm as the sound of footsteps grew louder.

"Good party, man."

You recognized the characteristically deep voice and immediately tried to move a little further from the sound. You opted to take the empty space next to Jude, and to avoid seeming rude, you looked up, meeting Trent Alexander’s eyes before giving a small nod in his direction. The man nodded back with a shy smile resting on your lips.

"Hey y/n, you look great!!" He said.

"Thanks."

You knew him, or at least you knew who Alexander was. In your defense, you knew all the people in your circle of unfortunately extroverted friends. You knew he was a guy with too much money, another footballer, not surprisingly—very attractive—and also much kinder than many other rich and attractive people.

However, you started to feel anxious.

Alexander didn’t seem to notice your discomfort, even after greeting you. But then the guy lowered his gaze, not going below the level of your skirt, but enough to make you wonder— is this guy checking me out?—God, men are all so bold.

Suddenly, Bellingham cleared his throat, subtly but enough to move you a little out of Trent’s view.

Oh, okay.

"Sorry to bother you, but my friend here won’t stop saying she wants to meet the great Jude Bellingham."

Unaware of the presence of someone else before, you moved your gaze to Trent, where a model-like tall girl was giving all her attention to Jude.

You were annoyed by how attractive she was. You couldn’t imagine how she looked in Jude’s eyes. You weren’t a fan of the cliché thought of hating other women over men, but damn, this feeling was hard to handle.

"Can you blame me? He looks even better than I imagined," she said loudly.

Then you looked at how that girl was dressed.

She was obviously someone very bold, and you were all for female empowerment, but if she came any closer to Jude, you’d have to break her neck.

If Jude hadn’t noticed her before, he definitely was now, shamelessly scanning her figure until stopping on her chest a bit longer than necessary. When he looked back at her face, he gave her a playful smile.

"She knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to ask for it. My kind of girl."

Sorry, what? His type of what? Is he really giving me a hint?

A fake and shy smile spread across the unknown girl’s face as she tilted her head slightly and flipped her hair back, exposing more of her neck and collarbones.

"Oh, yeah?" She asked, her voice interrupted by laughter. "What else is your type?"

Me?

The girl started tracing circles with her index finger over the lower part of her collarbone before dragging it down, outlining the beginning of her breasts. They were quite exposed; it was hard not to notice them, but there was no worse way Jude could handle it than staring at them, his expression not hiding what he was thinking.

Bellingham took a step towards her, immediately placing his right hand on her hip without gripping it, just touching a bit, while moving to whisper something in her ear.

There was absolutely no damn way Jude was doing this in front of you, there must be some kind of reality error. No fucking way, you were really holding yourself back from pulling him away from her and giving him a beating.

Once the brunette straightened up, they were both smiling, and you couldn’t hear it, but you read it from the girl’s lips.

"I got lucky tonight."

Well, you had never considered yourself a crazy person, or at least not one who acted out of her mind with no regard for social norms.

Nevertheless, at that moment, you could barely stand.

You had no doubt about it anymore; it was too strong not to recognize, too powerful to ignore. You were jealous, so jealous that all you could think about was violence and all you could see was red.

"I’m leaving," Alexander suddenly said, visibly uncomfortable with the looks being exchanged.

You didn’t even have time to thank him mentally before the girl grabbed his arm as if her life depended on it, sweetly smiling at Jungkook and saying:

"I’ll be waiting."

And with that, they left.

The crowd made them disappear in less than a minute, leaving no trace. All you could focus on now was the unshakable smile on Jude’s face.

You despised him.

None of this was part of the plan.

Jude’s plan was to keep you without sex for a while, make you show how much you missed him, make you feel so needy that you’d give in to anything in seconds. Bellingham thought nothing could compare to the feeling he’d have once he saw your desperation, the ease with which he’d let you go, giving him the upper hand in the situation.

He was wrong.

Something better than a proud version of you was a version willing to admit, to admit that you were jealous, and he made you realize it after this little outburst.

"Where were we?" He asked as if nothing had happened, his attention slowly returning to you, clearly displeased at his side.

-I might have overstepped a bit- you thought. Relax.

Since Jude did everything he could to avoid giving you more than a glance while talking to that girl, wanting to make it as real as possible, he was enjoying watching your reaction.

You stared defiantly at the wall opposite them, obviously trying to transfer all your anger to her instead of Jude.

Seeing you cute probably wasn’t what you was looking for, but Jude found it absolutely adorable.

"Is something bothering you, sweetheart?" He gently brushed a lock of hair from your forehead, his voice laced with false concern.

"No."

It wasn’t a very convincing lie with your teeth clenched and a blank expression on your face.

"Mm, I think it is."

"Good for you."

Jude had to stifle a satisfied smile. The way you responded with the first thing that came to your mind showed you weren’t thinking much before speaking.

"Not in the mood for a conversation anymore?"

You closed your eyes.

But you couldn’t do that, not when it was exactly what you wanted to do. He couldn’t be the first to break, admit his lust, show that he wanted to be with you so much that he’d trample his pride.

Not again.

“You know, I never took you for a jerk who got jealous so easily.”

If it were physically possible, your jaw would be hitting the floor. The air caught in your throat and your lips hung oddly open as you looked at Jude and found the lack of concern on his features.

Being honest was the easiest way to get through to him.

“How dare you?” You asked offended, pushing Jude away as hard as you could.

His balance seemed to falter as you failed to move him an inch, but he did successfully sway on his two feet, before Jude grabbed your wrists.

“How dare I what?” He asked you with an amused smirk. “Does she make you jealous? I was just having a conversation, babe.”

“No, not that.” You finished your statement with an irritated groan, violently breaking free from his hold. “You’re an idiot. Go have a conversation then.”

“Should I?”

The look you gave him only said one thing. “I fucking dare you.”

“Do you think you’ll be able to find her?” You couldn’t help the sarcasm. “You didn’t look at her face even once.”

Well, if it wasn’t obvious, you screwed up. The chances of her living without Bellingham mentioning what you wanted him to not notice were now basically non-existent.

“She didn’t put that on so I would look at her face.”

You had never looked so angry, your head shaking in disbelief and fists clenched on either side of your body. You looked like you were really struggling not to slap him and Jude couldn’t blame you. That was the point, after all.

“Oh, wow.”

He was already on his way to calming her down, his hands reaching for your waist, when you raised his in defense.

“Don’t touch me.”

You even pointed with your index finger in warning, wagging it when Jude didn’t stop.

“I’m not joking, I’ll slap you, don’t touch me- mhppm-”

With one hand around your waist and the other pressing against your jaw, Jude had you backed up against the wall in no time. Despite your earlier threats and your bad mood, you surrendered into his arms quickly, melting into the touch, your soft moans being muffled by Jude’s mouth. The longer it went on, the more eager you became, tugging at his uniform, trying to pull him closer despite your bodies already being together.

When he pulled away, you were a mess. It was being a fight for him to refuse your touch.

“We can go to my room…”

He whispered against you, before moving lower.

“Talk…”

He pressed a kiss against your chin

“I’ll make you laugh…”

And then one on the side of your jaw

“I can make you cum…”

You shuddered at the proposal.

You both knew he wanted it, that was not in doubt. The question was how far he would go to get it.

“You will have my full attention.” With sarcasm.

Another kiss, just below your ear.

“All you need to do is ask.” He made sure you were looking at each other when he spoke, eager to see your reaction. “Tell me you don’t want to see me with someone else.”

You noticed how your body completely gave out, all hope in your eyes. Your excitement was replaced with panic as your pupils dilated and your mouth opened and closed without saying a word.

The offer was so tempting, the promise so real, so possible. I hate it.

You wanted it so badly, but it was a matter of pride and even though you were the prouder of the two of you, it was clear that you still had a hard time taking a step back from him.

“If I need to ask for attention, then I don’t want it.” You replied with a dry tone.

“If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

Your jaw clenched at the implication. You knew it.

With the girl dressed in a bad porn nurse costume.

(...)

“Can you stop looking at him? I’m talking to you.”

The words of Odessa, your best friend, barely reached your ears, your thoughts overwhelming you in an almost pleasurable way.

You watched as Jude’s hand wrapped around an unfamiliar waist for the umpteenth time that night, causing your own fingers to grip your knee tightly.

This time it was a redhead, dressed in something that was more meant to cover the most private parts of her body than disguise, but who were you to judge? Right?

There was clearly a set pattern that you noticed during the time you spent sitting, gaping and staring in Bellingham’s direction. People would come up to say hello, most often women, their hands touching as much as they could without being inappropriate and a few minutes after sharing a few words they would come over with eyes fluttering in a way that could only mean one thing.

The first few times it happened, your heart nearly stopped beating. You were sure you knew what was about to happen next- Jude would take her by the hand and lead her to his bedroom.

But it didn’t happen. Not with the curly-haired brunette, not with the six-foot-eight leggy blonde, not with the one he was feasting on now.

Is he not interested? You asked yourself.

A raspy growl rumbled somewhere deep in your throat before you grabbed your glass and clumsily emptied it down your throat, not caring how the liquid spilled from the corners of your lips and down your chin.

You called out to your friends, as you abruptly stood up, almost tripping over someone sitting between them.

“Let’s dance.”

Your lips formed a smile at the thought of Jude seeing you with someone else. It was childish, yes, but you didn't really care.

You were about to execute your plan, but when you turned around, you found nothing worth your attention. The spot Jude was occupying all this time now had other people in it, no sign of the brunette in sight.

You wished you could say that it didn’t affect you.

So you turned your back on your friends and walked in the opposite direction, your newly gained good mood now ruined. You thought maybe if Jude admitted to being jealous, you could too. It would make it less embarrassing.

If Jude was here, surely he could get something better.

Yes, if Jude was here. If he wasn't fucking someone else.

"Having fun?"

A familiar voice reached your ears, close enough to feel the vibration of the sound, making you shiver, thanking God the place was too dark for anyone to notice as Bellingham's proximity made your entire body shake.

You kept your eyes on the empty glass in front of you not quite sure how you were going to respond with his mood.

Any words or actions from you from now on could be detrimental.

"Don't you want to talk to me?"

Silence.

"Okay, I'll go then."

Jude didn't even move. He didn't pull away, nor did he lean back. He stood right where he was five seconds ago, the same annoyed, mocking smile on his features.

"You're still not jealous?"

You weren't just jealous, you were seething with it.

"I am, actually. Tell anyone and I'll make sure it's the last thing that comes out of your mouth."

Admitting jealousy was a big deal for you, especially since you didn't know if Jude felt the same way. Also knowing what was coming after this.

"There's not much that can brighten my mood right now."you entered the room, "I just needed courage for what I'm about to do." locking it once the door was closed.

When you turned around, your eyes met and Jude felt something he hadn't felt in a while, it felt like he didn't really know anything about you.

He wasn't blind to the progress you'd made in the different areas of your relationship, but there was still a lot left to say, explain, discover, and - in a situation like this, when you seemed to be a completely different person - he was surprised at how much he still had to get to know you.

"Yeah? And can I know what it is?"

He longed to feel you again on other parts of his body and even more so when your hot mouth landed on his mouth as you said-

"Punish you."

It wasn't that it hadn't crossed Jude's mind that you might do something like this all night, but still, hearing you out loud was enough to bring a smug smile to his lips.

"Oh, really?"

It would be a lie to say you didn't find it fun.

Things were definitely taking a different turn than he had planned, but then again, ever since the party started, all of his plans were ruined, so he was surprisingly not opposed to the idea.

He was actually very intrigued.

You hummed in agreement and within seconds your hands were back on Jude's body, this time being bolder and freer with your movements.

It was the first proper touch that night and Bellingham thought he was ready, but he really had no idea how much he had missed this until he experienced it again. He struggled to keep his eyes open, but the feel of your palms and the heaviness of your fingers prevented him from doing so.

Your hands moved in opposite directions, one sliding down his abdomen and the other circling the side of his neck. With the pad of your thumb, you traced circles on his skin, massaging and releasing some of the tension.

He had a hard time trying to keep from getting an erection from the moment he laid eyes on you when you arrived. Now... now it was impossible.

"You know..." you started saying.

Jude heard your whisper, but could barely register it due to the heat that was beginning to creep steadily down his body, fading only for a moment when his belt got in the way, but then coming back stronger, with a grip more powerful than before. Bellingham would be ashamed to admit that his breath hitched as soon as he felt you where he wanted it most.

“I’d rather have these for myself, but you left me no choice.”

It all clicked, both metaphorically and literally, in his brain and out loud, but Jude couldn’t move fast enough to stop it.

The handcuffs were already dangling from the tip of your index finger as you swung them teasingly back and forth in front of his face.

Oh. Interesting.

The way you could overpower Jude in a mere second was wonderful.

“What makes you think I’m going to let you do that?”

You pursed your lips briefly as if contemplating his answer.

“And what makes you think I’m going to ask for your permission?” You replied.

“Maybe that drink was too much after all,” he looked at you with a smirk. “Looks like you’re confusing roles.”

Judging by his expression, you didn’t share the same opinion.

You pushed him until the back of his knees hit the bed.

Jude didn’t stop you or object, instead sitting on the edge as he was pushed down, curious to see how things would play out.

“Are you threatening me, baby?” He asked, leaning back on his forearms.

You looked perfect from every angle, she was so sure of it now.

Your free hand gripping Jude’s jaw and squeezing it a little in annoyance.

“My name isn't ‘baby’.”

You slid your fingers down the side of Bellingham's throat where the smear of a lipstick still rested on his skin.

As you stared into each other's eyes, you looked so angry that Jude couldn't help the heat spreading throughout his insides.

"Wouldn't that make you even more angry, baby?" He emphasized on the nickname on purpose, arching an eyebrow mockingly.

The sound that came out of your throat was quiet, but he didn't miss it.

-Even her grunts are cute.-

"Shut the fuck up."

It was clear that you weren't usually the type to get angry to that extent, and even if you had been, you were the type to never act on it.

"Keep your hands behind your back if you don't want to lose your most prized possession."

You felt it before you understood it - a pressure of something hard and unfamiliar against your crotch. Something unwanted.

And it came, a sign. Not too big, not too flashy, not too obvious, but painful and threatening.

Your foot moved so abruptly that the tip of your shoe met the tip of Jude's cock and hit dangerously close to his balls.

You did it. I got you.

"Good choice."

With one swift movement, his crotch was free again, but his hands were bound at the wrists by the steel rings.

You pushed him down onto the bed and pulled his shirt open, leaving his chest completely bare.

“Shit,” you muttered at the sight. “You’re lucky to be attractive.”

“And you’re lucky to be able to see me like this.”

You sent him a questioning look. “Oh, I am? Who hasn’t gotten to see you like this? Because from what I’ve witnessed, you don’t exactly have a criterion when it comes to who you let undress you.”

“You seem really upset by that thought, sweetheart. Are you scared of having a little competition?”

“And what makes them my competition? They’re not as pretty as me.”

“But they’re a lot more obedient.” He replied.

Pure shit.

There’s nothing Jude likes more than how disobedient you are.

“You know my legs are always open for you.”

"Baby..."

"You know you can take anything you want from me, anywhere you want... any way you want..."

Every syllable that came out of your mouth was filled with confidence. Your fingers caressed his jaw as if he was teasing, barely grazing the skin before pulling away and touching another part.

"You have such a dirty mouth." The boy said.

"You want it around your cock?"

Holy shit, did you really say that?

"Yeah."

You hummed, acting like you were considering it.

"But I think you acted like shit, I don't think you deserve it."

"You're lucky that I'm tied up right now, otherwise I'd fuck you until you were ruined."

You seemed to take it as a compliment, your thighs clenching tightly around Bellingham's hips to feel him better.

"Oh yeah? You wanna fuck me?"

As if his massive erection wasn't proof enough already.

“Yes, baby. So bad.”

His confession brought a satisfied smile to your face.

“You wanna see what I got under there?”

“Show me how pretty you are.”

But you didn’t take off any clothes.

You just started riding one of his thighs, your movements teasing and slow.

“Shit. Take this off me.” The dark-skinned one said.

“And why would I do that?”

God, this was getting so frustrating. Jude wanted nothing more to do than watch you choke on his cock until you remembered how to talk to him properly. You shifted a little on his lap, creating a small but effective friction.

“Baby…”

“Suck.” You claimed.

Shit. Usually, Jude was the one giving the orders. Usually, you were the one with Jude’s fingers inside your mouth, too. He opened his mouth obligingly and you immediately pushed two of your fingers in, letting them rest on the tip of his tongue before pushing them fully into his mouth.

“You like having my fingers in your mouth?”

Jude couldn’t help but like the mess he was turning you into.

You withdrew your fingers without warning and brought them to your own mouth, sucking and moaning lewdly as you looked directly into Bellingham’s eyes.

“You’re so fucking dirty.”

Your hand trailed until it was just above your breasts, eyes still on Jude’s as you squeezed your tits.

Jude didn’t even have time to react before he saw you move up your own body and rub through the material covering your pussy, touching up and down a bit teasing the boy in front of you, leaving a wet spot when you pulled your hand away.

“Move your hips for me. Can you do that for me?” That innocent tone you set made Jude explode. And he didn't need to be told twice.

He put all of his weight on his arms, his palms and heels sinking deep into the mattress, and he lifted his hips so hard that you jumped a little on his lap.

Without further ado, he thrust up, fast at first, to give you a taste of his desire, but then slower, nicer, dragging his length over your underwear-covered clit.

You decided to go a little further and freed Jude's cock, so damn big and veiny. You pulled off your underwear and started rubbing yourself. It was so damn delicious the difference in size and how the head of Jude's cock rubbed against your clit.

But what kind of punishment would it be, giving him something he so craved? You knew. You had prepared better.

So when you forgot about everything except the repetitive motion you were supposed to follow, when your moans were finally released loud and clear in the way only he had heard them before, when he could already feel the pleasure, you lifted your hips.

Bellingham groaned in frustration, closing his eyes as he fucked into the air, unable to stop his body from seeking the orgasm he had just been denied.

“Untie me this very instant.”

He may not have sounded angry at his ragged breathing, his body still recovering from the denial, but he was and he would gladly show you how terrifying he could be if he gave him the chance.

You smiled sweetly, dropping your weight onto his lap, a movement so sudden it left him breathless.

“No.”

"I wasn't-" He trailed off, a small sound escaping his mouth from another roll of your hips on his axis. "I wasn't asking."

"Fuck, did I tell you how big you are?" You replied, your small body shaking as you pulled away and sat on the edge of the bed. "You should learn not to play with me Bellingham, I'm not one of those girls, don't get wrong with me."

You pulled up your underwear and pulled back up the shorts that barely covered your ass and the small miniskirt accompanied by a pink belt that was hooked with straps to the leggings that reached just above your knee.

"Shit, shit, shit..." He replied frustrated.

"I'm sorry but now you'll have to fix this on your own." You turned around and walked away.

Jude Bellingham is totally lost.

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polarisjisung · 7 months ago

Text

LOVE ON THE COURT | 28 THUG IT OUT

SYNOPSIS | every college student has their struggles, but raising her younger brother has Y/N top of the list, struggling her way through college whilst balancing her academics and basketball captaincy is difficult no doubt and with Jaemin, her ex best friend and captain of the guys basketball team, and his growing one sided hatred towards her, it doesn't seem to be getting any easier

WARNINGS | swearing, sexual innuendos, kys/kms jokes

NOTES | I'm sorry this chapter took so long, my brain just isn't working to write these days so I tried to take my time with this chap, tbh I'm still not super happy with it but I know a lot of you wanted to read it!! also RENJUN IS BACK!!!!!!

I currently have an unwelcome visitor (a pigeon) in my apartment and I have no idea how to get rid of it, it's munching on spinach in my kitchen rn.. and my cat had been trying to eat the pigeon.. also aespa + tbz concept photos...

The tension hangs in the air like a thick fog, palpable and suffocating.

Much different to the usual high spirits and aspirations that fill the changing room before a game, heavier somehow.

Y/n let's her gaze linger on the brunette across the room, as she pulls her hair back into a ponytail, tugging at each strand.

Ningning feels the eyes on her, but makes no effort to meet them, struggling to gulp down the endless amount of words she wants to scream at her best friend. And God, there are a lot.

But she can't find the courage to speak them, at least not now as coach continuously shouts for the captain, getting ready for the debrief before the game. Despite how much she cares for y/n, Ningning can't find it within herself to shoot even a forced smile her way as she heads out of the room. She sighs.

This was for her benefit anyways.

Y/n's dismissal hurt ningning no doubt, but if she didn't realise soon enough, y/n would be hurting too.

Y/n can barely remember how she got here, the ball she had just caught pressing into her fingertips, it's material heavier than she once remembered as she stood at the edge of the basketball court. She remembers being in the changing rooms not so long ago, when in reality, the game was now in full swing.

Against the vibrant energy of the game, y/n couldn't help but feel lost, her eyes flickering between Jaemin and Ningning in turn. The only thing keeping her grounded being the cool air against her face.

5 seconds she thinks. She has 5 seconds to make a decision, Ningning's open arms call out to her, she was in the perfect position, but y/n doesn't reach to shoot the ball forwards.

They share a look, nothing like the triumphant smirks they were used to, instead every glance feels charged, as if the unspoken words linger just beneath the surface of their gaze, waiting to be addressed.

The clock ticks in her mind, her own voice calling out to her, telling her to just suck up her pride and pass the fucking ball to Ningning, but she doesn't want to.

No matter how much she tries to convince herself to, she can't, she doesn't.

The inner conflict swirls, part of her wanting nothing more than to win this game, but another whispers excuses, convincing her to shoot her shot.

A couple seconds, it's all she has.

There's an urgency in the eyes surrounding her, begging her to pass the ball, to not let the pressure get to her, to make quick decisions like she always would, but the gears in her brain don't grind half as quickly as normal, her heartbeat quickening.

Her palms are sweaty, loosening grip against the ball, a sign of the time passing by.

Just pass the god damn ball.

There's no time. Not enough to consciously make a choice between her pride and what she knew was right, at least. So y/n launches the ball forwards, eyes open, yet completely unaware of her own actions, until the crowd erupts.

And even when the game reaches its end and as she follows her team off court, y/n's thoughts are overwhelming.

There's a distant echo of celebration, and a contrasting muffle of loss but her mind drifts far away, lost in thought. Her competitive nature feels suppressed by too many emotions and she's unbothered by the outcome of the game that usually meant so much to her.

Ningning was right, it was all she could think, and she knew she owed her best friend an apology. But perhaps she needed to talk with Jaemin even more.

She feels torn, part of y/n wonders if she's being overdramatic, putting way too much thought into something so simple, another part knows rushing into something like this isn't sensible. Even if it was just talking, there was far too much hurt surrounding the topic.

It hurt when Jaemin left, there was no doubt about it.

But years had passed since then, and things weren't the same.

Y/n didn't think she was nearly as strong now as she was then, she wasn't nearly as brave, now she was a skeleton of the strong willed, determined young girl she once used to be.

She had held onto Jaemin as the small string of familiarity that connected her to everything she once knew, to everything she once had, to everyone she once had. She much preferred living in the blissful ignorance that he wouldn't walk away than to potentially lose him again.

It wasn't healthy. She knew that much. The things he had done and she had forgiven him for in no less than a blink of an eye, Ningning was right, Y/n had to talk to Jaemin, and she had to do it soon. Before she convinced herself otherwise.

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TAGLIST: @jenobubbles @justalildumpling @nanawrlds @222brainrot @sungookie @pepperedthot @dinonuguaegi @haechansbbg @90s-belladonna @bath1lda @jeongintwt @daegalfangirl @ahnneyong @jammingjaem @paper-boats-rose @iraa567 @errrrrat @kyusqult @suzayaaa @jising-jisang-jisung @soonyoonswoo @nctrawberries @wonbin-truther @sunghoonsgfreal @lotties-readings @onlyhyunjin @swee7dream @girlz4jaem @beomgyusonlywife @nanaxwi @nosungluv @tommina @sinisxtea @20sdiary @otblous @p-d1ddy @lostinneocity @soobs-things @odxrilove @buns-inhiding @busy-daydreaming02 @starfilledgaze @papichulomacy @grassbutneo @iwilleatyourgod @jeeluv @mystverse @meowtella

#jaemin smau #nct jaemin smau #nct dream smau #nct smau #kpop smau #jaemin x y/n #love on the court 🏀

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lullaebies · 8 months ago

Note

HII your jaehaera x aegon iii has taken over my brain like OMGGG him & jaehaera >>>> but my request (if your still taking them) is how team green and black see how Aegon iii is infatuated/fixated/in love with Jaehaera. it's moments like Aegon talking to his brothers until he suddenly goes silent, his eyes tracking Jaehaera who's passing by. Or Jaehaera dancing with another man and his jealousy. No matter the situation the way he looks at her is the same. Gentle and tender but intense. Like I need this man to be a devout simp 😩🫡

a/n: thank you so much love!! they have genuinely took over my brain i'm so happy i'm not alone in this lmaoo. now i didn't really have time to write the past few days sadly (which is why other reqs are still pending - sorry guys!), but for this request i actually had something in my drafts that fit to it. i am writing a chaptered fic au for jaehaegon (...and jaehaerys/viserys ii lol) and i've been testing writing interactions for them to get the vibe i want... it changed a lot since then, but this was one of the test fics. i hope you will enjoy it! this is viserys ii pov, but there are lots of mentions to other characters.

It is deep into the night’s feast when he notices Aegon playing with the ruby ring upon his pinky.

Well. Viserys supposes the more proper word is fiddle, though his brother is hardly a restless man. He is far more fitting into the description of rigid, filling the black of his doublets with broad shoulders of deliberate posture and a sense of responsibility.

Or at least so he had been, until their estranged family had come for a visit. Their uncle and aunt had come out of the woodworks that had been Oldtown to request to build a Keep to the west of it. That had been for their son, who had nothing to inherit, as it stands. Viserys’s mother had allowed them to make their case, his father had allowed them to see his smirks, but nothing yet had been set in stone.

It is an art, to convince those who never planned on being convinced. While Prince Aegon the Elder and Princess Helaena had been mostly unsuccessful in their endeavours, their daughter Jaehaera, had entered the court with prideful flare to her step and an ever-determined gaze. One could not say she had charmed his mother and father, but Viserys thinks they had hardly been the ones she had her mind on setting her claws in.

Instead, his own brother, usually so clear-headed and mindful, had his dark purple gaze almost unwaveringly on her. A genuine fool, he thinks. Viserys does not know what the witch has done to make him so dim-witted, but gods be good, she had known her plays.

While her twin and younger brother had sat nearby him at the table for the better of the event, Jaehaera had entered the feast late, much after everyone’s introductions. The announcement of her arrival had music forced to a stop, setting the majority of eyes to the entrance.

A lady pleasing on the eyes would steal a man’s thought, that is evident with his own brother, but a lady with strong enough wit would steal a man’s mind. And as music restarted with the appearance of her smile, and men flocked by her for a dance, Aegon could not be more obvious he had not been at peace, drinking vintage he had prior declared abhorrent.

In truth, Aegon the Younger paralleled Aegon the Elder with the sudden swallow of drinks. And while his brother had been staunchly, unabashedly, moronically staring at Jaehaera, her father had been dead on Aegon the Younger himself, looking just about ready to toss his goblet at him.

The atmosphere from her brothers hadn’t been much better. Sitting between Jaehaerys and Aegon the Younger, Viserys had felt a proper wall of separation. The man beside him may have known he needed to keep quiet if he wanted to get his damned Keep, but he had been looking at his brother with intense scrutiny for days now.

Little Maelor on the other hand had the gall to laugh while remaining within his mask of an innocent lamb. And when he next does, it is at the same time Viserys wishes to sink into his chair and disappear into it from embarrassment.

Some golden-haired man had invited Jaehaera to a dance. Not an unexpected occurrence; dancing does happen in feasts. But while his brother had attempted to busy himself with playing with his food like a child, he lifted his head again when the dance ended - only to see said man holding onto Jaehaera’s gem earrings while speaking to her in proximity that is questionable — and there, his brother had to stand. Literally.

Jaehaera looked towards Aegon in the eye then, as everyone else did, but within capturing her gaze, his mouth had become voiceless despite it being opened ajar.

And he stood there uncomfortably, unable to even cuss the man whose offense he stood up against to begin with. As if he’s going to make a fucking toast, or something. I cannot believe this. Baela had told him and Jace alike that she thinks they may be ought to bind their brother to some post to prevent him from acting up. Jace, kind crown-prince he is, completely dismissed it, but now looking at him, he thinks he too just realized their sister had been right.

Meanwhile mother looked properly frazzled herself, sharing a look with his father that had been so pointed, even King Consort Daemon himself realized he had to give a damn. “Continue the music,” his mother had told the musicians not far away from them, while father had gestured to Aegon to come his way, and now.

Whatever point words their father had decided to rebuke Aegon with, his brother had received them with properly flushed cheeks, should it be from the embarrassment, or the drinking, of whatever blood that didn’t manage to make it to his brain.

Aegon had soon left the table for the grand floor, finding himself some girl to dance with instead. A daughter of one of their loyal courtiers, he believes. Viserys releases a sigh of relief when he sees that. Perhaps now his blood pressure can calm.

His cousin — Jaehaerys, that is — seems to release a lousy scoff.

Viserys turns to him with a frown. “You have something to say?”

Viserys will admit; he is defensive of his brother, as foolish as he may have acted these days. He would not hear giggles or scoffs at him. Jaehaerys, on his part, is unfazed, staring yet still on the floor, and at the dance that has partners swapping left and right.

“There is little to say in this situation, no?” Jaehaerys answers. “Even little that can be done, or prevented, don’t you agree?”

Viserys doesn’t bother acting the fool, but his cousin better not either. “On your side, mayhaps,” he answers. “Your sister will lose you your Keep if this continues, you know this?”

Jaehaerys eyes grow daggered, and he lowers his voice. “There isn’t going to be any damn Keep given from your parents, even if my own ones’ grovel,” he says cutthroat. Viserys stares at him. He knows well enough, huh? “Don’t assume me stupid. Nor should you assume my sister stupid. This had been a losing game since arrival, for the lot of my family… but she’ll cut her losses even in the most futile of dances.”

When Viserys looks back at the dance floor, their siblings are dancing together. Viserys licks his lips. There is something there that can’t be prevented, perhaps, but also something that won’t quite be approved by all of their parents. What would it do, in the long run? Nothing.

“And throwing herself at my brother would be cutting her losses?” he asks back, more sincere than he even planned on sounding. He even tries to pick his words carefully. “It would not do her good either, to end up seeming a… seductress.”

Jaehaerys tsks. “No need to dance around it. I’ll say it as it is, fully and wholly — she has no plans on being your brother’s whore,” he brings a hand forward; the one with six fingers, and lays above the back of Viserys’s hand on the table. His fingers fill the spaces between his, the little extra pinky standing up purposefully. Viserys freezes for a moment, and nearly takes his hand back when Jaehaerys opens his mouth again. “It only takes one extra step to make honey from enticing, to trapping.”

The extra finger curls against Viserys’s palm as Jaehaerys intertwined their fingers, squeezing lightly with a smile. Viserys swallows and only manages to remember to snatch away his hand when Jaehaerys’s chuckle comes along with the brush of his thumb against the side of his palm.

What the fuck. He rises himself from his chair, needing some damn distance. Whatever the fuck his cousins have in mind, they live in their own world, as do their father and their mother.

By the time he manages to absolve himself from the almost scorching feeling of Jaehaerys’s hand on his, the feast is over, and they all go their own ways, Viserys himself remaining rushing to his room.

The morning after, when he sees Jaehaerys’s face again, he has a look in his eye that is ever-knowing. And for a moment, he thinks in mortification it is all about him — but it is not. It is only then, that he starts understanding what her brother truly meant the night prior.

Jaehaera is standing by her twin, smiling absentmindedly and fiddling with a ruby ring on her bony thumb, and his brother, his dear, foolish brother, stares at her with his bare fingers and doting eyes, ready only to give more.

#jaehaegon #jaehaera x aegon iii #aegon iii x jaehaera #viserys ii x jaehaerys #visrys #(???? idk how to tag them)#aegon iii targaryen #jaehaera targaryen #jaehaerys targaryen #viserys targaryen #answered #hotd #hotd fanfic #my fics #reqs #requests #i really have amnesia at how to tag things here lmao #anyway enjoy!

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khristie16 · 1 year ago

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The Fast and Forbidden

Charles is a famous F1 driver with everything one could want: fame, fortune, and fans. But he is missing one thing. Being his new personal assistant changes everything for both of them.

— chaper 1 It is your first day settling in Formula 1 world. You find out there is something off with Charles, but you ignore it. At least you convince yourself to.

disclaimer: yn with "I" pov format x slowburn

Lights were casting a shadow enveloping me as I headed toward Charles's room. My mind went on full speed and palms getting wet, feet suffering from the fancy wearing for this job. High heels clapping was the only thing disturbing this silence. This whole job experience was pestering but there was no choice but moving out from my family.

Butterflies in stomach were at its peak as I started to acknowledge this is our first meeting. Did I feel like a stalker? Standing in front of his door in a hotel he was accommodated? Definitely. But it is better to meet up here then outside with sound screeching and flashing cameras.

Giving myself one big inhale to reach for the door knob, the wooden squeak made me fall few steps behind and muscles stopped moving as Charles was leaving the apartment. Wearing Ray Ban sunglasses does a lot to one's sight evidentially. His presence was getting far away from mine as he was heading towards the elevator.

"Wait!"

The growing distance between us has stopped. With a serious tone and hands pointing at me, "I'll call the security''

My throat got tight and words couldn't pass through. His words were flowing in and out of me as waves of the ocean in the night, making me restless. Time flew fast and I was met once again with his back showing a gray hoodie.

"I'm your new assistant!"

Hope filled my veins. Mind was playing with the possibility of being thrown out displayed as a fan girl. NOT. His turn was so abrupt I was shocked he didn't crack his neck. Sweet, yet deep voice crashed my eardrums making me feel searing.

"YN?"

I nodded and I finally let my lungs chill. Damn, this started easy.

Sides of his lips crooked making me feel not welcomed but I could finally take a breath. The distance got shorter while I remained situated on one position.

"Sorry for that. I'm Charles."

Chuckle left my mouth as I found the introduction nonessential. Hands connected with him leaving warm tickles on my skin and his cologne messing my senses. God, he smelled good.

“I’m sorry, I must have looked like a stalker,” his nod made me feel even worse.

All I could inhale was airy scent torturing me, enlarging the lift going down with no noise to muddle the silence. A sway of sadness ran through my body given the fact I have to do this job. Slow mornings moving my body to the sound of inner peace and calmness enveloping my heart, the safeness growing inside of me as if it would tear me apart if given the chance to expand. Creative days with no rush and restrictions in nature. Looking to the sunlight and warming my skin touching its sleeves. I never in my heart wanted to be this 'empowered independent' woman the society has made.

I lost all the hope when opening the door of SUV myself. Has the chivalry really gone dead? Thoughts were torn off from the noise, exciting screams from Ferrari fans hovering over the car.

"Have you previously done such a job?" His gaze locked onto mine; I tilted my head in an attempt to discern the eye color, but no clear answer emerged. I chose to let the moment slide.

"No experience with the celebrity lifestyle." He nodded reassuringly, expressing confidence that I would adapt well.

The quietude felt like a snare. Knowing he is not the chatty one, I clenched my teeth. Fingers touched the screen on iPad scrolling through files kept for assisting Charles's personal life.

''I've made some changes and saved a decent amount of money''

I skimmed through the palette on the page styling and got myself wondering which of these colors match his.

''Oh, wow,'' resonated through the air. ''I trust your intellect. You are paid for it after all''

The spoken words seared into my ears, yet I acknowledged him for stating the obvious. Almost as if summoned, my mind spilled forth the reasons why I had accepted this job. The whole concept of my future given by my family's idea was the reason. Working for Charles was better than staying home.

My fingers danced across the screen, orchestrating household tasks in his absence, as a cool breeze caressed my skin. I found solace in the fact that within the SUV, I could relish the refreshing chill, outside it was a walk through hell. Speaking of, it felt as though someone had touched me with a hot frying pan against my bare skin. I turned my gaze to the left, only to find his eyes expressing fondness toward my exposed thigh. The fleeting moment of admiration came to an abrupt end as our eyes locked, and I could swear I detected a spark of intensity in his gaze. Its reason unknown to me. The back of my thigh touched the seat underneath as feet touched the floor again.

''We're almost there'' having Ray Ban again.

Leaving the car as the last one, setting feet in the hell delivered a numb pain. Mix of frustration and calling for help left my lips making Charles shot a glance in my direction as I sat there.

"What's the matter?" The genuine tone in his voice caused my shoulders to slump.

''These heels are killing me,'' skimming the pair of Jimmy Choo heels made my lips curl.

I liked to dress. Wear pretty things. But per usual, pretty things cost, coming from a humble background, the prospect of high heels and I seemed like an incompatible pair, especially in the beginning.

My breath caught in my throat as I stared ahead.

"I value my employees; choose something more comfortable next time," he continued through clenched teeth.

''I am supposed to look presentable,'' I retorted.

''You can look presentable while being comfortable,'' with his last words, he turned away, revealing his back—a connection I, regrettably, began to foster too much.

Engaging in Formula 1 is demanding on both the psyche and the body of the driver. This is why considerable effort is dedicated to maintaining optimal physical fitness, the amount of work they put into it is out of this world and one wouldn’t even tell. This misunderstanding often stems from the assumption that individuals who engage in rigorous physical training automatically develop bulky muscles. However, in Formula 1, many drivers maintain a lean physique with a minimal percentage of body fat.

This is one of the reasons I accepted this job—a relatively minor one, but my admiration for these drivers played a part in my decision. even though they don't save lives of others while risking their lives like firefighters do, they still risk a lot.

Sound of chaos lingered around me watching Charles race on the Singapore circuit, my vision blurred as I found myself yearning for something more profound to heighten the level of respect for this man, changing the weight from one foot to another.

Mere fame is insufficient for me to offer respect. A person, regardless of their status, should demonstrate general respect towards women and interact with them using good manners. I ran away from my family because of this and I block any misconceptions this society made. As of now, I have a feeling that something might be off with Charles.

“You’re the new assistant?” I titled my chin up to see a man looking at me. His hair seemed to absorb no light at all. Forming theories about the man—his inclination toward comfortable attire and a penchant for photography—I nodded in acknowledgment and shifted my focus back to the swift cars, resembling nothing more than fleeting smudges.

“I’m Joris, Charles's close friend”

His hand reached out to me and I accepted his offer.

“I believe it’s quite a job huh?”

This man believed that either way I took this job being incompetent or he tried to start a conversation. Either way I didn’t like how he started.

“Job is ok. People are the tricky one”

His silence provided a momentary relief, causing my tense body to ease. Soon after, someone came to my vision.

A blonde-haired woman enveloped Joris in a warm hug, and the sound of French language resonated in the air. Despite my understanding of French, I chose to keep to myself.

“He’s really put it on a whole new level”

Words stopped at my level, their bodies facing mine.

“Yes, this is YN”

Seeing her face, I smiled. I had a break from work, and I preferred not to spend it with people I don't know.

“I’m not surprised though. I’m Carla”

We shook hands but my mind was elsewhere. Her choice of words got my attention. ''What do you mean by that?''

I was told curious creatures get killed fast. I am okay with that. Joris expression fell and my curiosity grew. On the other hand, Carla showed us white teeth. She was giving me the vibe she could sleep like a baby even after spilling everyone's secrets.

“He is focusing on career now, doing a decent work like tidying his room is a distraction for him I suppose”

Laughter filled the space and the way she proceeded those words made me question everything. It was clear that she was his friend, and her disapproval of his decision to hire a personal assistant inclined me to be drawn to her side and trust her perspective. Bad feeling about Charles was not a coincidence.

Legs swept me elsewhere still on the territory of the Ferrari background but as I got consumed by thinking about everything and nothing, I lost the track where I was heading. The lighting changed, and the once resounding sounds of engines and formulas on the track dissipated. A metal door ahead beckoned me, and without overthinking, I reached for the knob, immediately sensing a shift in the atmosphere. Before me stood an elegant kitchen counter and a man donned in a Ferrari shirt. As our eyes met, I instinctively moved to offer an apology, feeling as though my legs were already propelling me towards the exit. However, he was quicker in his response. His warm smile welcomed me and I looked at his wrinkles around the eyes. He could be in his forties and Italian.

''Ciao''

Shyness enveloped me as it displayed on my scrunched eyebrows and crooked lips. I greeted him back.

''I am Andrea''

As the doors finally closed, my hands released their grip on the cold metal beneath my fingertips. ''I'm YN. Sorry If I disturbed you''

His laugher filled the space as If I told him the most hilarious joke ever and he closed the distance while still keeping his spirit up. His arms enveloped me in a warm hug, creating a sensation akin to being in a cozy room illuminated by flickering candles. Indeed, this guy exuded the comforting ambiance of a room bathed in candlelight.

I put the dots together. He is the personal trainer of Charles. He sent me reports about expanses on stuff for Charles's training. For the first time this day, laugh left my lips as this situation seemed so embarrassing to me, but to keep it fair, I haven't encountered any familiar faces since my interview and I got my feet on the Singapore land just today. But I felt immense gratefulness for Andrea. Mind note: I have to buy him candles sometimes. My stomach seemed to have a mind of its own as it growled, and we both erupted in laughter.

''Oh my, let me make you something''

My eyes felt like they were on the verge of falling out, and I fully embraced the mode of sabotaging the mission he had so earnestly accepted. He shook me with more laughing telling me to relax. I stopped harassing him and hopped on the barstool.

''Thank you, but you really don't have to do that'' He kept quiet with a warm smile on his face as his hands worked the magic. I didn't know what he was making, he could poison me for all I care. I did not. My soul hasn't felt this warm since I have flown through the air gate to Singapore. And it is a lot to say when it is a living hell outside there.

''I believe you’re not used to long flights''

I hummed in response and engaged him about my flight. I wanted to keep it short, but my monologue ended with details and meeting with Charles. He furrowed his eyebrows listening to me while fiddling something on the frying pan. Yep, he could easily poison me if he wanted to.

''That surprises me, Charles is always like a sunshine''

First Carla, now Andrea. As if written on a secret paper known only to few, they were describing Charles differently than I have experienced him to be making my head spin. But as long as I keep receiving money so I can leave this job and start the life I want, then I am fine not being included to this 'crew'.

''I noticed how Charles has changed his approach towards career now,'' lingered in not so approving way and I couldn't hold back anymore.

''Change of approach?''

He nodded and I cursed myself for keeping the question short. Just when I accepted the end of discussion, he put the food on a clean plate and continued.

''He's really hard on himself. He has two brothers and lost a father.''

Words hit me like a rock bottom and my breath got stuck for a second. The sound of plate landing on the counter and the smell of the food freed me from my momentary mental drift. Clearing my throat facing the warm smile.

''I knew he has brothers, but didn't know he is the oldest one''

Andrea shook his head immediately placing the utensils next to the plate.

''He is not. He is the middle child, but Charles is just Charles.''

I understood his words and took my focus on the food in front of me. My stomach responded in gratefulness as the egg omelette was filling its smell to my nostrils. Taking a bite resolved in an appreciative moan as Andrea laughed at my reaction, but his smile slowly faded away as I sensed another presence behind my back. I turned my torso with full mouth of the omelette to see Charles in his gear.

The first upper half of the gear was open, hanging itself on the sides of hips showing the fireproof underneath, displaying his toned chest. Red really suited him. Charles had this lazy look in his eyes shooting through my skull telling me something encrypted in a highly sensual manner and as I become aware I'm no longer chewing, I took off my eyes from him to the plate again.

The food sliding down had a hard time doing so and I shifted my focus to Andrea to thank him. Charles moved like a ghost behind Andrea and pulling out the water from the cabinet. Italian language filled the room and I prayed for having the food eaten already.

I found out Andrea was telling the truth; he was like a sunshine.His dimples were on full display, and his delightful chuckle echoed, sounding like a melody to my ears. I didn't wanna melt here on the barstool so I ate like a daredevil. When Andrea noticed me finishing, he reached for the plate.

''Don't worry about it, I wash it''

Frozen on the spot, he took the plate with a polite smile and I thanked him for it. I couldn't help myself looking away from Charles. He was eyeing me while taking a sip of his bottle. Sweat on his forehead made his longer hair stick to the skin in a delicious matter and I felt my knees to buckle soon. Shifting from warm to cold to hot in a second wasn't good for my heart. I excused myself and went anywhere but there.

Two days have passed and the only conversation I had with Charles were short sentences about work. He finished forth in yesterday's race resolving his mood to worsen. I overheard how critical he can be towards himself.

I was shocked how mean he was and upset about forth place out of twenty. But we are separate individuals with different dreams, If I had lost a small amount of money resolving in postponing my leaving and pursuing my dream life, I would be mad as the weather in Singapore is.

Charles told me he doesn't need me for the rest of the evening so I had practically a time off preparing for tomorrow's flight.

#charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you

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melodiousmonk · 1 year ago

Text

Ethan Hawke asks, "Why does masculine energy so often manifest itself as idiocy? Why is male sensitivity so often linked with perceived weakness? How does one be, as Johnny Cash said; ‘a dove with claws?'"

Kris Kristofferson takes a long beat, then says, “Yeah, that used to piss Shel Silverstein off.”

“What did?” Ethan asks.

“That whole ‘dove with claws’ thing. He just thought, ‘What the hell is that?'”

“Why do you think Cash said it?”

“I think he was feeling the very thing that you’re talking about – that if people think you are against the war, that in some way you’re a pussy.”

“Your first recorded song was a pro-Vietnam War song, right?”

“Yeah, I wrote it when I was in the Army on my way to Nashville, and I came upon a protest march. I had a lot of friends over there; and I was thinking we were fighting for freedom. And I wasn’t thinking very deeply.”

“Why did you end up changing your mind about that war?”

“I was flying helicopters in the Gulf of Mexico on one of those offshore oil rigs, and I was talking to some guys coming home. The stories they were telling me were so horrible that I think it just shocked me enough to change my thinking 180 degrees. I’m talking about things like this young vet telling me about taking people up in a helicopter and interrogating them and if they didn’t say what they were supposed to, they’d throw them out, stomping on the fingers of the prisoner holding on to the skids, you know? The guy telling me this particular story was still just a green kid when he returned from the war. The notion that you could make a young person do something so inhuman to another soldier – or even worse, a civilian – convinced me that we were in the wrong. I hadn’t been thinking in human terms of what that military action was.” He pauses, stroking my dog. “I agree with you totally about all the conditioning that makes us want to feel masculine and tough. I mean, I’m sure that’s why I went to Ranger School and Jump School. And I’m proud of that Ranger tab – still am. But the notion of bombing a defenseless country that’s never threatened us and the fact we all accepted it and said, That’s politics!’ Damn. I’m not really interested in polities. We’ve come to a place that I never dreamed and I know my father never dreamed that America would get to.

"That’s why Shel didn’t like that ‘dove with claws’ thing,” Kris goes on.

“Johnny Cash should have just said he was a dove and proud of it?”

“Exactly. ‘Cause people would have accepted anything from John,” says Kris. “We knew he was a man. I don’t really think anybody would have called Johnny Cash a pussy. But John was conditioned, just like you and me. You really have to get past all of that — where you have enough feeling about what’s right and wrong in the world to not give a shit about what kind of names anybody throws at you.

[Source - Rolling Stone Magazine]

#johnny cash #kris kristofferson #ethan hawke #shel silverstein

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levisonlylover · 9 months ago

Text

The Aftermath of a tragic mission.

Comforting Levi after he loses his soldiers tragically.

“It’s not your fault.” You say as you finally spoke up after 5 minutes of silence. Despite losing a lot of soldiers and comrades during these expeditions and missions, he still could not take the image off his head. How his comrades died a tragic death. It was the day they tried to capture the Female titan; everything was going according to plan till it attacked his squad. He saw how gruesome and bloody it ended. The blood of his comrades painted the bark and grass red. He tried to take his mind off from it, till he spoke up. “Did I jeopardize my comrade’s safety and life...?” His voice was quiet, almost confused to why he even asked it. You replied, being careful with your tone “No, it was just unfortunate timing, Levi.” Levi was still quiet, it’s nothing new for the other soldiers that feared him, but you knew that Levi can’t handle this the way he usually does. His squad cared for him like family, after losing Isabel and Furlan. ‘History repeated itself once again.’ He thought. You made him his favorite tea, it’s one way to comfort him as you know tea calms him down during these types of moments. You spoke up once again “Levi, you did not do anything wrong.” You rubbed his back in a comforting way, trying to ease up his stress. Levi would trust your word, but somehow this time he couldn’t. “How is this not my fault? Those soldiers were under my command.” He said, his voice shaking at the end. His eyes were focusing on his teacup; he pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed exhaustedly. “I led them to their deaths Y/N” He added, you try to convince him that he was not the reason by saying this; “We never knew that she would attack like that, it was unpredictable.” But of course, Levi refused to believe that. He kept his thoughts to himself, wondering how he could’ve avoided it. As a few days pass, he starts to move on slowly. Your presence helps him, but the guilt and images of his fallen soldiers were still haunting him. One night he took a short nap, it was late at night, and he was off duty. He had this dream; his fallen comrades were still there. But the only words that came out was “Why did you abandoned us?” The female titan appeared behind his dead comrades and tragically pull their limbs and break their bones apart. Levi woke up, breathing unevenly and his body trembling. He swore under his breath and went to the mess hall kitchen to prepare himself some tea. You on the other hand was there already. “Had a rough night?” you asked him as he prepares his tea. “A damn nightmare is what happened, Y/N” He retorted back, his hands still trembling. You try to comfort him in anyway possible; “Levi, I told you, it was not your fault, we could not predict the female titans’ moves. You know that very well.” Eventually Levi gave into your comfort. But he still couldn’t let that image of his fallen soldiers go. Months have passed since the incident. Your solace and presence kept him sane after every expedition. He knew his line of work is unpredictable, and you both could die at any moment in battle. He kept in his mind that not everything is in his control, he realized that thanks to you. You changed his perspective whenever he loses the soldiers under his command. And even though he cannot change or control anything around his surroundings like death, he at least wants to change it somehow to not lose you too.

Idea goes to: @onloginavely-blog 🫶

A/N: THIS TOOK ME WAY TOO MUCH BRAINPOWER, PLEASE DONT LET IT FLOP!

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eustasskidagenda · 1 year ago

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anon asked: Hi sweetie, My brain just can't get over the idea of Kid being pegged, I mean, everything is so 'grabable" on his body. So could you write an OS or drabble about this? With a female reader. Maybe Kid would have that kink after a certain time in their relationship, according to your NSFW alphabet. With maybe some overstimulation, hair pulling and spanking as additional kinks? And if it's possible, could you write this with Kid being pegged for the first time? I think it's can be interesting! Last, please, can you write him as extra tough/bratty but his attitude breaks bc he can't handle how good it feels. I hope my request was understandable, I don't know how to explain myself properly. Tysm for your time and anon please

Hi! Well, that was an interesting request! And you’re so damn right, Kid's body is so grabbable. It was quite fun to write, Kid is such a brat, I love him so much :D Sorry for the long wait (my back is still injured) and thank you for requesting, I hope I did the job correctly :D ☆

☆Eustass Kid getting pegged for the first time

CW : MDNI, smut, f!reader, pegging, overstimulation, hair pulling, spanking, praises (bc Kid lives for praises), established relationship, Kid has a filthy mouth, Kid is a big brat, kind of virginity loss kink I guess (?), fingering & oral sex (Kid receiving), dirty talk, rough sex

WC : around 4K. I know it's really long, but I wanted to develop a bit Kid's mindset. Hope you don't mind the length!`

Kid is everything, but not submissive. It's written on his face, and the moment you met him, you immediately knew that he would always be in control of absolutely everything. Including in the bedroom. And you never tried to change that, because Kid knows what he's doing. You crave the sensations of his hands gripping your waist and his huge body pressing against yours. However, in the back of your mind, a fantasy always refused to leave your spirit. Your giant, hot-headed boyfriend, moaning and begging while you fuck him. So, once, you tried to talk him about pegging, and you earned nothing, but a dark, mad scowl and a "no" yelled loudly."I'm not a wimp, y/n, no one will ever fuck me. I ain't no bottom bitch." That's what he said. And you know Kid is a stubborn mess, so you never tried to bring the subject up again.

It was five years ago.

Your mind is still filled with this fantasy. So, a few days ago, you tried again to convince your stubborn boyfriend. It was in the middle of a passionate make-out session, and you caught him off-guard. Initially, you believed that he would yell at you once more. However, he simply scowled and frowned. "You're so goddamn stubborn, I thought you would forget about this stupid idea." And then, he shrugged. "You better take the bigger size, I'm not a fucking pussy."

You still don't realize that he actually said 'yes'. In his language, with a lot of cursing and arrogance, but he did accept. It took him five years to gain sufficient trust in you. What a challenge. That's what you think as you relax on the huge bed and read a book that Kid stole for you. You're waiting for him, actually. Kid is probably locked in his workshop, working on some random weapon or new arm improvement.

Suddenly, the door hits the wall. "You're not sleeping yet?" He asks, closing the door behind him. He's still wearing his goggles and his lips are painted with your favorite red lipstick. And on his skin, some stains of oil. "Gonna take a shower, I'll be right back soon." You laugh softly. "Fine, but don't remove your makeup yet." He mutters 'I don't take orders from anyone' before slamming the door once more.

When he comes back with make-up still on his face, you can't help but smile. He listened to you. Locking the door with a kick, Kid drops his heavy coat on the ground, cracks his neck, and crawls on the bed. He immediately wraps his hands around your waist. "Come here. I want to fuck my pretty girlfriend." He sits you on his lap and holds your hips firmly. As he smears his lipstick on your neck, you shudder and put your face against his neck. Kid slides his hand and firmly gropes your ass. "Mine," he growls, squeezing your bottom. "I want to see that pretty ass, undressed and get on all fours,"

You raise an amused eyebrow. "No, I won't." He scowls, irritated by your teasing expression. You roam your hands along Kid's broad chest. "You're the one getting on all fours this time." He scoffs. A low chuckle rumbles up from his chest as he gazes at you. "You're being feisty tonight?" He squeezes your ass tighter. "No. I didn't forget what you said. I chose the larger size. So, will you let me fuck you?"

Totally flushed, Kid scoffs once more. "Goddam, y/n" You can almost see the gears of his brain working quickly. "Why are you so obsessed with this thing?" He groans, still holding your cheeks and squeezing them like if it were a stress ball. "Because you're hot. And you know where your prostate is, right, Eustass?" Kid scowls at you. "I'm not stupid, y/n." You gently touch the corner of his lips with a kiss. "So let me pleasure you."

You take off his goggles and his red hair falls free on his forehead. He's as beautiful and fierce as ever, gazing at you with his amber eyes. He forces you to sit on his lap while he thinks. And his laps make quite a beautiful throne to sit on. Your heart is racing and you're hoping Kid won't change his mind. You need to see that large, massive body, shivering under your touch. There's something so exciting about the idea of fucking such a big, tough, and rude man as Kid. "Y/n, I swear on everything I have: if you ever try to tell to anyone what I'm about to do… I'll fucking kill you. And I'm not even kidding."

Damn, you know he's not kidding.

Kid cares way too much about his reputation. He's so touchy and sensitive whenever someone tries to deny his status or powers. So, abandoning his dominant position is not easy for his stubborn mind. He must really cares about you. Your dear captain only knows the hard way. His strong spirit was the only thing he had as a poor child, when he used to fight for almost everything. That's why he toughens up so much. Right now, he seems much more human. There's a hint of anxiety in his eyes. Maybe he loves you, but people have betrayed him so many times, he can't help but be a bit distrustful. "Eustass, I won't tell anyone, even Killer. It's between you and me, I swear. " Kid sighs deeply. " Goddam woman… fine."

Relieved, you kiss his lips softly. As a punk, Kid always craved for non-conformism. You noticed really soon that he was always curious to try things considered 'weird' by society. But you never thought he would let you peg him. Your heart is brimming with excitement, pride, and impatience. You squirm to escape the strong grasp of your boyfriend and reach for the nightstand .Kid watches closely as you grab the lube and the strap-on. You didn't lie; you chose the larger size. Kid glances at the toy for a long moment, but remains quiet.

"Alright, come here and lie back." Immediately, Kid raises an eyebrow. "You want me to take orders from you? Ain’t no fucking way" Ah yes. Kid. Constantly bratty and hot-headed. "Come on, Eustass." You gently try to push him on his back, but he doesn't move, struggling with his inner thoughts. "Let me pleasure you." As you press your palms harder against his chest, he snarls and eventually lies back, completely tensed. You reach for his belt and he pushes your hand. "I can do that myself," he grunts, taking off his shirt, unbuckling his belts and unbuttoning his pants.

Damn, what a sight to watch at Eustass Kid's naked body. Muscular shoulders, broad and toned chest, abs as hard as the stone, big and grabbable thighs, and that perfect muscular, round booty. "Your name is so accurate, Eust-ass", you laugh as his face turns as red as his hair. "Shut up and do your fucking job," he barks aggressively. He's trying to hide his flustered state. How cute.

Your hand reaches for his already hard cock and you firmly wrap your hands around the thick girth. Kid bucks his hips, eager for more friction. "You're so hard. Are you actually turn on by the situation?" His cock twitches in your palms. "You know what? You should shut the fuck up. Why won't you suck my cock?" He grins and grabs your hair. Damn, even now, he can't help but give your orders. Kid smirks as you comply, content with himself. "That's it, take it all." His cock is throbbing with needs as he pushes deeper down your throat. You can already taste his pre-cum in your mouth.

You keep sucking him while reaching for the lube, spreading it on your fingers, and guiding your fingers against his tight hole. Kid tenses automatically. "Just do it, I'm not a pussy," he mutters. With a wet sound, you remove his cock from your mouth. "Eustass, just to be sure: have you already been fucked in the ass before?"

Now, even his neck is red. "Hell no. Do I fucking look like a guy who likes being fucked all the fucking days?" He snarls, his pride stinging. His thoughts are filled with lust as he feels your hands on him, making his heart race. "Now what?" You don't answer and continue to run your hands along his muscular thighs, grabbing them to widen his legs. "You're so pretty for me." Kid lets out a low, growling sigh, his cock twitching with the need. "Don't call me pretty. And fuck me, I'm dying of impatience"

"Fine, fine. You're needy." You gently tease him, spreading his ass cheeks to take a look at this hole clenching around nothing. Eustass tenses under your touch. "Don't fucking look at my ass like that" he growls, squirming nervously. "Why not?" You whisper, kissing his inner thighs and squeezing his muscular flesh. With your lips, you trace all of his scars and curves. "Because I'm not some fucking object for you to gawk at!" Kid roars, shoving your hands away from his ass. "Now, are you going to fuck me or what?"

You can't help but chuckle. He's such a hot-headed mess. Even more stubborn, yelling and aggressive than usual. Your poor boyfriend is really flustered and turned-on by this situation. The unknown is something he finds unpleasant because he can't control it. "Don't worry, I'll fuck you soon. Let me prepare and stretch you first." You're rubbing your fingers against his entrance, as you say. "Prepare me?" He sneers, his voice thick with disbelief and irritation. "I'm not some delicate flower" He continues to protest, but his heart is racing at the thought of being filled with the massive strap you choose. "Stop being so bratty." You sigh, apply more lube to your fingers, and spread it on Kid's entrance. " Just breathe and relax for me." You gently push two lubricate fingers inside him. His warmth and tightness immediately surround you. With a shiver, Kid groans and grabs the bedsheets. His head, neck, and shoulders are all flushed.

Kid groans as you keep teasing the tip of his cock with your free hand. The double-stimulations is too much for his body to handle. You gently push your fingers deeper, savoring your boyfriend's low grunts and how he clenches around you. So needy already. "You're doing okay, babe?" You ask teasingly, curling your fingers and rubbing his prostate. Kid grabs the bedsheets tightly. Right now, he looks so vulnerable; he doesn't have his prosthetic arm. Just his bare body covered with scars and his big thighs trembling crazily. "Don't call me 'babe'" he grunts, bucking his hips against your hands, eager for more of your touch. It's almost hilarious how hard he tries to hide the moans of pleasure that threaten to escape his lips. "Look like you're enjoying yourself" you tease, stimulating his prostate. "Fuck!" Kid groans, his body arching off the bed. "Just get it over with, I can't get much fore of your goddamn teasing!" he growls, his voice laced with need.

Eustass 'Captain' Kid is finally begin to break down.

That is so fascinating to watch such a big and scary man, so needy and almost begging for more. Begging to actually be fucked. You continue to finger him and he yells, his eyes rolling back in his head as the sensation shot straight to his cock. The pre-cum is leaking onto your fingers and his stomach as his member throbs in your hand. Kid's body trembles, betraying his arousal despite his best efforts to maintain control and the tough boy-attitude. "Just fuck me," he growls impatiently.

"Okay. Then, get on your hands and knees." You demand, taking your fingers off. "No."

"Why, no?"

He frowns. Of course. He won't obey. No one can commands the great Eustass "Captain" Kid. You sigh, half-amused and half-annoyed by his stubbornness. Despite his dislike for orders, what if you simply guide him with your hands? Perhaps he will comply. Holding his hips with firm yet gentle hands, you attempt to roll him onto his stomach. But you can't move his big, heavy body if he's not willing to obey. Kid glances at you for a long time, and when you finally break the eye contact, he huffs and rolls on his stomach. Your heart is racing at the sight of his muscular back. Some scars are running down his spine. Both the small of his back and his ass are incredibly juicy. You can feel yourself becoming increasingly wet as you imagine the moment you will finally fuck him and drive him crazy.

Still with your hands, you try to move him on all fours. Kid growls and arches his back. But he can't really stay on all fours with his missing arm, so he ends up with his head buried in the pillow and his ass perfectly raised in your direction. The position he's in is so helpless and vulnerable that it makes your throat feel a bit dry. He must really trust you to be so exposed. "You can breath at least?" He turns his head. "Of course I can, just fuck me."

He glances across his shoulders as you put on your strap-on and spread some lube on the fake cock. Kid asked for it to be both large and long, and it is. His spirit of competition is quite amusing, but you hope he'll be fine. You give a playful spank to Kid's amazing, muscular ass and enjoy the nice jiggling. It's only fair to give him a light spanking because it's his favorite activity when you're on all fours.

By pressing on the small of his back, you force him to bend more, enough to spread his ass cheeks without your hands. Then, you gently rub the cockhead of the toy against his tight entrance. Kid eyes roll back in his head as he feels the cold rubber head pressing against his hole. "Hurry up and fuck me, damn it! He grumbles with a voice full of desire and impatience. His cock throbbing between his legs shows that he's ready. "Just relax and let me in," your orders before starting to push the massive toy inside him. "Fuck", Kid hisses out between clenched teeth, his body shuddering from the intrusion. He tries to manage his breathing, and he feels the thick head of the dildo stretching his entrance further. "Shit…" he cries out, as the cockhead finally passes his tight ring of muscles. His body instinctively fights back. You soothe him with one hand while gripping his hips firmly with the other. "Just breathe, Eustass. You're doing so good. Just a little more and it will all be inside. " Kid grabs the bedsheets with his hand, his whole body shaking and covered in a slight coat of sweat. As Kid finally relaxes, you manage to push the big toy deeper into him. "You're taking me so well, Eustass." You purr, watching the thick girth of the strap sink completely inside him, stretching his ass widely. "That shit is so fucking big," he groans out, his body shaking with the sensation of being filled so deeply. His ass walls are tightly clamped around the toy. "That's what you wanted" you laugh playfully, squeezing his ass. You can’t believe you’re finally filling him up to the hilt.

"Shit! I know. Just fuck me, I can handle it." Even as it overwhelms his senses, he cannot deny the pleasure that surges through him. Seeing him with a completely flustered face would be wonderful, but you know that he's probably more comfortable that way, with you taking him from behind. If you are unable to see his expressions, he may be more willing to let it go and indulge in the pleasure.

Your entire body is aching. It's too much for you. Kid is so perfect, so pretty, on all fours for you. His muscular body offers to your hands and thrusts. You had no idea that he would allow you to realize one of your most significant fantasies. Now, you have to take good care of him and prove to him how good it can be to be fucked. Maybe he will accept to do it again if he's convincing enough.

You gently start to thrust, sliding in and out with ease thanks to all the lube. The amount of lube is making some wet, obscene sounds with each thrust. Kid grunts, almost moans and tries to hide it behind a curse word as you move your hips. Your hands move from his waist to his ass, and you grab it firmly. You spank the firm flesh playfully. "So perfect" you whisper while thrusting. Kid groans lowly as you continue to plunge the toy into his ass. "You look so beautiful when I’m inside you." Kid sighs. "Can you stop babbling and actually starts to fuck me for real?" He tries to keep his moans under control, his teeth tightening tightly. 'Fuck," he mutters, his voice thick with need and desire. " Damn Eustass, you're taking me so well. You're so beautiful, I-"

" Harder " Kid grunts, silencing you. " I can take it, fuck me harder." You give another spanking to his ass, which slowly turns red. Kid bites the bedsheets, smearing his lipstick everywhere on the pillow and on the mattress. As you speed up your thrusts, Kid bites the bedsheets more firmly to muffle his moans. The sensations are too intense, the pleasure is too overwhelming for his poor mind. He can't think clearly, and is slowly starting to lose his tough-guy attitude. It's tempting to tease him about his pretty, husky moans. He's such a whimpering mess. But you shut up. It's obvious to you that he would feel mocked and humiliated. And you want him to trust you. It's beautiful to watch him indulge in a new world of sensations. With each hard thrust, the inner ring of the strap grinds against your clit, and you moan as well, digging your nails into Kid's ass. "You should see how your hole is swallowing all of me." The mind totally dizzy, your boyfriend doesn't react and just bucks his hips, eager for more friction, more roughness. "Yeah yeah i get it; you love my ass. Just fuck me harder," he begs again impatiently. His body is trembling as his mind still tries to fight against the pleasure washing over him. His cock twitch violently, releasing pre-cum as it throbs in response to your thrusts. "Fuck," he repeats, moaning. Burying his head in the pillow, he bites it. You know, his lipstick is probably all over the white bedsheets. You spank his ass playfully, speeding up your thrusts. "Damn, you were right Eustass, you're taking me so well. You like how wide it stretches you?"

The slapping sounds of the skin fill the room as Kid turns into a whimpering, almost whiny mess. It's difficult for him to handle how good you're stretching him and how nice the toy is rubbing his prostate. You continue to thrust, chasing your own highs. The rubber ring is stimulating your clit just nice, not to mention the amazing view of your boyfriend on all fours and at your mercy. The fake balls of the toy slaps against Kid’s balls. With one hand, you still hold his hips firmly. With the other, you pull on his hair, fucking him deeper. His face is completely red, his eyes are almost wet, and his lipstick is smeared on his chin and cheek. Amazed by this sight, your pussy ache in need. You already know how beautiful Kid looks when he can't handle how tight your cunt is. But that. It's beyond all expectations. The slight pain from his hair being pulled and his ass being spanked only add to his arousal, his cock throbbing with need. All he can mutter is a long, long strand of'shit' and 'fuck'.

Kid buries his head back in the pillow after you release his head. His ass is red from both your spanking and the roughness of your hips when slamming against his. Amazed by the way his body is completely swallowing the toy, you too moan. You reach for his chest, squeezing his large tiddies. Your breast bounces crazily with each hard thrust and Kid's body just jolts of pleasure. You know he won't take much more. So you reach for his cock and as soon as you touch it, Kid cum violently, arching his back, curling his toes and making a mess on the bedsheets. The pleasure just washes over him. But you don't stop, still chasing your own highs. "Fuck!" Kid groans again, his body shuddering from the intense release. His massive frame falls stomach-first on the bed. The friction between his sensitive cock and the mattress is causing him to squirm and jerk. "Damn, Y/N!" He grips the bedsheets more tightly and pants heavily. The way you're overstimulating his sensitive walls and prostate is too much to handle.

"Almost there", you whisper, and finally, you feel the pleasure running through your veins. Your loud boyfriend can't help but cum once more, his eyes rolling back in his head, short-circuited by his second orgasm. You continue to give him some sloppy thrusts, making him squirm and cry out. "You're amazing," you whisper before finally pulling out the toy carefully. With a loud 'plop', you completely pull out the toy, leaving Kid with a gaping hole.

'You're okay?' You whisper, stroking his back gently and playing with his hair. "Hmph. That wasn't that bad" he admits, his chest heaving up and down. Your fierce boyfriend struggles to glance at you and keeps his head buried in the pillow. Despite the intense pleasure he'd just had, his pride is swollen. You gently kiss his lower back, leaving a trail of kissing along his spine. "You were amazing… so beautiful and perfect for me…" Kid grunts slowly. At the moment, he only needs praises. He cannot deny how good it was. And his mind is tortured. What does it mean? Is he still the same for you? Does he look less manly now? Or cruel, maybe? Ashamed, Kid slowly manages to relax as you keep praising him. "You're alright?" You ask, kissing his neck. "Yeah." He grumbles, still trying to catch his breath, and finally rolls onto his back. You take off the strap-on and leave the bedroom, just for a moment. When you came back with a wet cloth, Kid didn't move at all. Without any words, you clean him. "Are you hurt anywhere?" He shakes his head. "No. I fucking lost my arm, I can handle having my ass pounded, damn." He groans. "Alright, alright. Just move your ass then, let me change the bedsheets."

Kid struggles to comply, barely standing up on his shaking legs. After you're finished, he returns to his bed. "Are you joining me or what?" With a chuckle, you comply, pressing your naked body against his. Kid wraps his hand tightly around your waist. "I love you, Eustass" you whisper close to his ear. The confession brings his heart racing. "Of course you love me."

He rolls on his side in silence. You know exactly what he wants, so you wrap your arms around his large body. "My big boy loves to be the little spoon," you laugh and he grunts a 'shut up'.

His hand reaches for yours and intertwined your fingers.

"Why are you smiling?" Kid asks as he feels you smile against his back. "Nothing."

You're just so proud of your stubborn, hot-headed boyfriend. And proud of how your relationship just evolved. Kid is always hard to understand and you never know if he loves you, but those kind of moments… it eases all your doubts. You're overjoyed to have the chance to see the vulnerable, human Kid. He can sleep comfortably. You won't tell anyone about it; it was too precious, you want to keep it to yourself.

"Alright, just smile then, he grumbles", still holding your hand.

#one piece headcanons #one piece x reader #one piece requests #eustass kid x reader #eustass kid headcanons #eustass kid x y/n #eustass kid x you #eustass kid imagine #eustass kid #one piece smut #eustass kid smut #eustass captain kidd #eustass kidd x reader #kidd x reader #one piece writing #one piece fanfiction

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bunnybubae · 1 year ago

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(M)🚦Red Light: The Allure | Ch3 [JJK]

👉🏻[Series Masterpost]

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader (GymOwner!JK/MotoRacer!JK/Biker!JK-TattoArtist!OC)

Genre: S2L - Smut - Fluff - Angst

Summary: Jeon Jungkook never lets any distraction take him away from his motorcycle or his gym for more than one night. He just wants to speed around the track and feel the adrenaline rushing through his veins, the sex he gets thanks to his charm, is just a side dish to his life. A tough past brought him on that Ducati that he learned to love, a past you’ll uncover, as you slowly seep in under his skin. It’s a hell of a ride, in all senses, as you try to escape your own hell in the meanwhile. Where will this ride bring you? Will it be worth it in the end?

Chapter Warnings: mention of the toxic ex (again, unfortunately), still a lot of teasing and heavy flirting, JK in black CK undies yes, it is a warning, brief mention of weed, alcohol consumption, brief thigh riding, rubbing in public environment, dry humping, oral sex (M/F receiving), praise kink, protected sex, one (1) slap on the ass, rough sex.

Wc: 11.7k

A/N: Hello there! I hope you guys still want to read this story, cause CH3 is finally out! As always, I'm sorry if there are some grammatical mistakes, english isn't my first language and I don't have a beta, so pls bear with me! 🫶🏻 Let me know what are your thoughts about the story, my box is always open! - Joy 🐰

December 8th, Friday

You're glad it didn't pour down all day.

The night sky is clear and the smell of rain permeates in the air. You look through the car window covered in droplets as Hani chats with the driver.

You're too busy looking at scattered puddles on the asphalt reflecting the surrounding lights to pay attention to whatever the uber driver is saying.

The only thing troubling your mind right now is the last message you received. You had already blocked Ray's number a long time ago, but no one else would ever dream of sending you a similar message. The scumbag must have changed it.

You check your phone screen once again, almost hopeful that the content of the message is now different or even better, gone.

Unknown Number:- Have fun tn.

You tighten the coat you're wearing around your figure, as if that would be enough to make you feel safe.

Three words were enough to disgust you to the core. Well done Ray.

His intent is clear: he hopes to ruin your evening with this message, he wants you to feel out of place and you know pretty well that behind those seemingly innocent words there is much more hidden. His passive aggressive stalking exudes from every pixel of the screen.

You wonder how he knows your plans for the evening, you hoped he had finally stopped spying on you, but clearly, this dude is unweary.

A hand suddenly rests on your shoulder, drawing your attention and making you flinch at the unexpected contact. Your thoughts must have poisoned your features judging by Hani's tone of voice, gentle and concerned.

“Y/N, are you okay?”

You mechanically put your phone back in your pocket and look at her with a hint of a smile, hoping that she doesn't notice the tornado of thoughts that swirl behind your eyes.

You don't want your worries to ruin your evening, that's exactly what that asshole would want.

Much less, you want Hani to decide it's best to take you home. It would be a defeat on all fronts.

You're going to go to this damn party and have fun. Ray has no power over you, not anymore. To let this message get under your skin would mean allowing him to manipulate you once again. You have to use it instead to do the exact opposite, to free yourself tonight and allow your wounded soul to dance.

Your face softens a little more as you manage to regain control of your thoughts.

"Yeah, it's all good. How long will it take to get there?"

Hani tells you that you'll arrive in a few minutes. She doesn't seem entirely convinced by your attempt to reassure her but you're glad she doesn't ask anything more when you start a barrage of questions about this kind of parties and the moto races.

Tae and Jungkook are waiting for you inside, she says, apparently they had to deal with some organizational issues related to tomorrow's qualifications, that's why they went earlier.

Hani is particularly thrilled, you can tell by the way she describes in as much detail as possible all the competitions and parties she's already attended. A little of her enthusiasm makes its way through you and you find yourself smiling genuinely as you listen to her.

A few minutes later, your driver parks next to the curb and once you get out of the car, you are amazed to notice the huge group of motorbikes parked in the lot next to the venue.

They're all well parked, resting under the light of the street lamps which highlights all their beautiful colors and shapes.

You reach the entrance guarded by a guy who looks like he could fold a motorbike in two. His menacing presence actually calms you further. You sigh without realizing it as your chest feels a little lighter.

Hani greets the big boy, who reciprocates, while maintaining a serious demeanor. He lets you in without even asking for documents or such, Hani is really well known by now.

The interior of the place has been well decorated for the occasion and the music is not excessively loud, the atmosphere is pleasant. You were expecting something more frenetic considering the adrenaline that motorcyclists are used to, everyone seems to be having fun but with ease instead. Which doesn't bother you at all.

Hani leads you to a small room filled with some sort of lockers to take off your coat before you could finally start your night.

It doesn't take long to find Tae, sitting at the bar, right next to the dance floor.

As you get closer, you notice that he's with a dark-haired guy and that they both seem deep in conversation.

"Here you are finally! Hoseok, Y/N, Y/N, Hoseok"

Tae gestures with his hands between you and the guy next to him.

"You can call me Hobi!"

He says with a beautiful smile and holding out his hand.

The handshake was a bit embarrassing for you, you're no longer used to this type of introduction. Usually, the customers who come to the shop know you through Instagram or through friends, and it is easier to establish relationships which, in that circumstance, are limited to work.

"Nice to meet you, Hobi."

Tae offers everyone a round and the alcohol seems to loosen your nerves a little more.

Despite the initial awkwardness, the conversation between the four of you continues smoothly. You laugh out loud when Hobi tells an anecdote about Tae and Jungkook, you find him funny, both his way of storytelling and the emphasis he puts on details. He is definitely a sunny and extroverted guy who is able to drag anyone into conversation and put a smile on their face with his energetic ways.

Speaking of Jungkook, you wonder where he could be, considering he was not here with them when you arrived.

Hobi continues his tell tales while Hani chuckles and Tae intervenes every now and then

"That guy over there," Hobi points behind you, "That one over there has been the champion for two years in a row!"

You turn to see where his finger is pointing only to realize that the champion he's talking about is Jungkook himself.

Tae laughs mockingly, determined to annoy you today as well, clearly. "Oh, they know each other very well!" and he exaggerates a wink.

Luckily enough, Hani seems to be on your side tonight. She elbows him on the side to shut him up but that only elicits a half-laugh from Tae.

"Yes, because I joined his gym." You respond casually, purposely ignoring Tae's innuendos.

Hobi starts waving his arm in the air trying to get Jungkook's attention from across the room.

Jungkook is talking to a couple of people, you look at him as he smiles and nods at something his interlocutors said, then he notices Hobi's attempts to call him.

He waves back and seems to want to return to the conversation with whoever is in front of him, when he notices you next to his friends.

A small smile forms on his face and his gaze remains fixed on you, almost as if he were challenging you to a staring contest.

You decide to playfully stick your tongue out at him to which he, in response, reacts with a damn wink.

You turn around and try to douse the heat you feel by taking a large sip of your drink. The alcohol helps, but the warmth in your cheeks becomes noticeable.

Your friends continue to chat peacefully, you're relieved to see that no one has noticed this little exchange with Jungkook, with the exception of Hani of course, her smile speaks clearly.

You try to focus on Tae and Hobi's talk, but they're talking about some modifications their mechanics made to their bikes for the race, details too mechanical for your alcohol-clouded mind.

Hani's smile is different now when you look at her, and the tilt of her head confuses you further.

"Here he is, the champion graces us with his presence!"

Hobi says all of a sudden.

You realize that Hani was trying to let you know that Jungkook was on his way.

He stops next to you and it's strange to meet him in a context other than the gym. You felt more or less the same feeling when he gave you that lift that evening, but now you have the opportunity to see another aspect of his person and the way he is dressed is proof of that.

Jungkook seems like an outgoing and sociable guy when it comes to training his members at the gym. As you watch him now though, he seems slightly embarrassed, keeping his hands inside the pockets of his baggy jeans.

Tae takes Jungkook's arm as he responds to Hobi's statement "Technically, I'm not the champion yet."

“Will you let us win any races this year?” Tae asks in a teasing tone.

Jungkook tries to free himself from Tae's grip by pinching his side. "Ouch." Tae chuckles, placing a hand on the pinched spot, while Jungkook rearranges his hair, moving it away from his face.

"It's not my fault that Ducky is the fastest bike on the track."

"Ducky?"

You ask out of curiosity, before you even realize.

Tae and Hobi start giggling in the background as Jungkook's gaze falls on you. He appears surprised by the question, as if he thought you knew. Then, he seems to remember that he never spoke about his bike nor his races with you and his expression changes.

"My Ducati." he replies, playing with his piercing, a habit you think comes when he's pondering or embarrassed.

"Did you give your bike a name?"

Jungkook tells you that many people give their bikes a nickname, explaining that the reason he chose Ducky it's due to the similar sound with Ducati.

You smile in recognition that Jungkook definitely looks like an intimidating and strong guy, but that you became aware of a more thoughtful and playful part of him starting from the night he brought you home on his motorbike. Even this small detail about the moto's name fits perfectly with the Jungkook that you got to know till now.

An interesting mix that is also reflected in the ducati he rides.

“It's cute, I think it suits her!” You chuckle softly.

You notice something in Jungkook's eyes, but it doesn't last long due to Tae's comment.

"No please, don't tell me that you also think it's a suitable name for a motorbike!"

Tae babbles distraught, while Hobi laughs loudly, shaking his head.

"Look who's talkin, the one who called his bike Sonic!"

Jungkook huffs mockingly, rolling his eyes.

The bickering that takes place in front of you makes you laugh lightly, Hani and Hobi join you as Tae fiercely retorts.

"At least it's related! And it's blue like Sonic! Your bike is not even yellow!"

“Wow bro, so original!”

Jungkook pretends to be overly impressed by his friend's explanation. Tae gulps down the last sip of beer while he wraps his arm around Hani.

"And by the way, have you ever seen a duck run? Those tiny little things are pretty fast!" Jungkook concludes.

At this, even Tae bursts out laughing, almost spitting out the beer from his nose. Everyone has seen at least once in their lifetime a video about little ducks chasing their mother or caregiver. Jungkook evidently emerges victorious from the argument, he chuckles along with all of you and the moment couldn't be more wholesome than this, you think.

The evening unfolds like this, next to the bar, with laughter and some small bickering between the three guys. You notice from time to time that Jungkook's eyes wander towards you while he speaks and he catches you looking at him sometimes as well.

The alcohol in your system definitely doesn't help make it any less evident.

"Another round? It's on me this time." Hobi shakes his empty beer, starting to move towards the bar when Jungkook stops him by placing a hand on his shoulder

"Just a coke for me, please."

Hobi nods as he appears to reply something like, "I know" before smiling tight-lipped at him.

You watch Jungkook's profile the entire time as he smiles back at Hobi before letting him walk towards the bar.

He looks like one of those smiles that takes over his lips when you catch his mind wandering, back at the gym.

A light smile that seems to hide something more.

When Jungkook turns back to bring his attention back to the conversation in progress, your eyes meet for the umpteenth time and his weak smile widens into a smirk.

He leans towards you slightly, while Tae and Hani continue to discuss something you don't quite listen to and his face gets dangerously close to yours.

“Are you going to keep looking at me all night?”

Jungkook speaks close to your ear, he doesn't whisper but he still makes sure you're the only one to hear him.

The sudden closeness of his body allows your nostrils to immediately capture his scent, the one you've had on you thanks to his motorcycle jacket and as the memory of that evening returns to your slightly alcohol-influenced mind, you smile mischievously.

“How can you say I'm looking at you all the time?”

Jungkook shifts his head slightly so he can look at you better as he says

"Because every time I look at you your eyes are already looking at me,"

You sigh, his voice far too calm to cause such turmoil within you. You try to ignore his usual attempt to make you blush, failing miserably when he continues, “You look like you want something.”

This man right here, damn. He knows, you know he knows the effect he has on you. It's clear.

You feel hotter but you manage to retort.

"And what about you? Why are you looking at me so often?"

The liquid courage you have in your body is enough to make you ask straight away, basking in the feeling of his body so close to yours.

Jungkook's eyes watch you intently and a gleam of amusement adorns his deep irises.

He moistens his lips and the movement of his tongue doesn't escape your gaze, but right as he is about to answer your question, Hobi returns, but empty-handed.

“Sorry guys,” Hobi interjects, his face darkened with worry compared to earlier. "Some problem came up with the registration documents and they asked me to help check." He says hastily as he apologizes once again.

Tae offers to go with him and solve the problem at hand but Hobi shakes his head,

"There is no need, I don't want you to ruin your night with bureaucratic bullshit. See you on the track tomorrow! It was nice meeting you Y/N!

"Pleasure is mine Hobi!"

You reply, giving him a smile.

As you watch him go, you realize that you have just met this boy, and yet you feel that you have made the acquaintance of a genuinely beautiful person.

It's so rare nowadays.

“So guys,” Hani exclaims loudly, catching everyone's attention.

"Tae and I are planning a relaxing ride next Sunday."

Jungkook nods.

"Where were you guys thinking of going?"

You watch your friends discuss the details of the itinerary and realize that you're actually considered part of the trip only when you notice that at the idea of the four of you going on a ride together, Jungkook seems relaxed, almost as if it were obvious to take you around on his beloved Ducky. Maybe your mind is wandering a little too much, but it makes you blush a little.

“It can be done, as long as Y/N agrees.”

The pronunciation of your name draws your attention, refocusing you on the group.

"Mh?

"I said if you feel like getting the necessary moto gear, we can go."

Jungkook repeats, Hani and Tae are looking at you as you try to seriously focus on organizing the aforementioned ride.

"Yes, no problem, but I don't know where to buy what I need."

"I'll take you to the store where I bought mine!"

Hani exclaims with a smile.

“I can get you some gloves but as far as helmet and jacket, make sure you get stuff that's the right size for you.”

You shake your head, saying that you will take care of getting everything you need with Hani.

"Oh, yeah I forgot how small your hands are, it's definitely better if you try them on at the store."

Jungkook evidently can never stop himself from teasing you.

His comment causes a mischievous smile on Tae's face and a very satisfied one on Jungkook's.

Hani purses her lips, trying to hold back a laugh, or whatever she was about to say.

Your eyes roll in mock annoyance as you playfully push Jungkook.

"Okay, it's decided then!"

States Hani, who sports a satisfied smile as she continues, “Oh, I forgot something in the car! Come on Tae.”

She grabs Tae's hand and before you can even point it out, he anticipates you by saying, "But you came in an Uber!"

Hani glares at him, "Just come."

Jungkook laughs, shaking his head at the obvious attempt to leave you two alone, while you watch them go in disbelief and slight embarrassment. You want to curse her, but you know it's what you really want too. You want time alone with him, you want to take advantage of the courage you feel inside this evening to understand a little more this tattooed and lip-pierced mystery.

The dance floor is full and you can no longer see the bartender behind the bar due to how many people are waiting to receive their drinks.

You don't even remember the last time you attended a party like this, the only thing that comes to mind when you think about it is Ray almost causing a fight with a guy who mistook you for his friend, the fight that came of it once you left the party and the tears you shed because of his sharp words, is the only memory of that last party you attended.

You return your gaze to Jungkook as anger and sadness from past events threaten to make their way onto your face.

There is no need to dwell on the past, past parties are in the past, Ray is not here and nothing stops you from enjoying the evening and putting off your worries about your ex and his passive aggressive messages until tomorrow.

Jungkook watches the dancing crowd, moving his head to the beat of the music as he's leaning against the wall.

You admire him so much, he always seems to have everything under control, no matter the shadow that darkens his face every now and then, he seems to always manage to return to reality and enjoy the little things.

"Want to dance?" You don't give your shyness time to reconsider the invitation that the words have already left your mouth. You hold out your hand as you invite him to join you.

He looks at your hand briefly before replying with a soft smile, “Why not.” and join his hand to yours.

You clasp your hand around his and lead him through the crowd.

You feel boldness fill you, you hadn't even considered the possibility that he might refuse and happy that he didn't, you reach a spot that isn't too crowded, the volume of the music is louder here and you feel the effect on your skin as your heart follows its own rhythm.

Thanks to what you drank and the need to let yourself go at least for tonight, you let your body feel the music.

His movements are loose and yours adapt to his almost immediately. Jungkook watches you the entire time, paying attention to every movement of your body, as if he wants to imprint them in his mind for later.

When you look up and meet his gaze, this time you hold it, smiling mischievously before turning your back on him.

You continue to dance filled with a wave of audacity, your every movement is seductive for him, who can't take his eyes off of you.

The line of your back is far too attractive to keep at a distance so, all of a sudden, you feel Jungkook's body move closer to yours.

The closeness causes a leap in your chest, but what he says is the cause of the heightened blush on your face.

You feel like your cheeks are perpetually burning because of him.

"What happened to the super shy girl who showed up at the gym a while ago?"

His voice is almost a whisper as you feel his face close to your ear.

You tilt your head back, resting it on his shoulder before answering confidently.

"She has learned to dare more." and with that, you decide to lean against his body completely.

Fuck shyness, fuck fears and comfort zones. If tomorrow you have to deal with the consequences of Ray's reappearance, you want to enjoy this one night to the fullest.

You hear Jungkook chuckle softly as a tentative hand finds its place on your hip.

He caresses you flat and softly from your hip up, his palm just grazing the edge of your bra as you wonder what it might be like without your clothes in between.

"It's clear that you're not that shy tonight, either."

You retort as you roll your hips against his. You feel his hand get slightly heavier on your hip as he presses you gently until your body is completely attached to his.

His other hand reaches for your shoulder and brushes your hair away to reveal your neck.

The gesture causes heat in your lower abdomen, you swallow unconsciously at the unexpected reaction of your body. Maybe it's been too long since someone touched you like this or maybe it's the power that Jeon Jungkook has over your body now, but you feel that at this rate you run the risk of melting in his arms.

“What makes you say that, princess?”

His breath tickles you as he whispers the words directly into your skin. His lips don't even touch you once and you wish they would.

You push your hips against his a little more as you continue to move languidly. His fingers mindlessly caress the curve of your neck and you close your eyes as you enjoy the feeling.

“The way you're touching me now.”

You reply in a small voice as your hand reaches for the one resting on your hip,

you hold it as if it might disappear if you don't.

You shiver slightly when his hot breath teases the thin skin of your exposed neck again and the grip of his hand under yours grows more and more.

“I can do more and better, wouldn't you like that?”

You feel the effect of your movements directly against your butt and it gives you even more confidence.

You feel completely intoxicated by his touch, nothing to do with the alcohol that undoubtedly contributed to you finding yourself in this situation, everything you are feeling now is the work of his touch, of his body against yours and of his words.

You're dying to fuck him, to feel his hands all over your naked body as he whispers dirty things in your ear. But at the same time you don't want this to ruin your friendship, you don't want there to be misunderstandings between you. You can always enjoy the pleasures of sex without unnecessary feelings being involved, right?

You don't feel ready yet and you hope Jungkook is of the same opinion as you, that he also wants to have sex with you without strings attached.

You spin around and your hands rest on his broad shoulders. You look at him for a moment, his eyes dark and full of longing as you whisper in his ear, "As long as it's the only thing you want too."

When you look back at him to decipher his reaction, you notice that Jungkook initially seems surprised by your statement, then a pleased smile forms on his plump lips and his hands suddenly become bolder, moving down from your hips to the small of your back. You barely hold back a moan when you feel the hardness of his member and the firmness of his hands on you.

Jungkook holds you close and you don't know when exactly your bodies stopped following the rhythm of the music. He firmly squeezes one of your buttock while you caress the locks of his nape.

You watch him move closer to your neck once again and this time, you feel his wet lips brush against you just below your ear.

"Are you really the first girl I don't have to give the usual speech to? Am I dreaming?"

His deep voice reaches the parts of your body that you never thought would be affected by a simple voice.

"What speech?" You sigh when you feel his hands move up your back.

"The one that makes my intentions clear."

Jungkook looks back at you, as if wanting to make sure he hasn't misunderstood anything.

"It seems we want the same thing, then."

You state in a rush, feeling the places he touches completely on fire.

"Do we?"

Jungkook tilts his head slightly as he holds you impossibly tighter. You feel completely enveloped by the warmth of his body when his thigh slides and finds its place between your legs.

A soft moan escapes your lips and it seems to trigger something in him, you hear him breathe deeply before asking in a low voice.

“What do you want, Y/N?”

From the tone of his voice it is clear that he knows what you want, he simply wants you to confess it freely.

His thigh twitches between your legs, rubbing just right against the place you want it the most.

You follow its movements, completely enraptured by the sensations you are experiencing.

There is no room for shame right now in your mind clouded by the burning desire for him.

The only thing you can think about is his leg repeatedly teasing your clit and the caresses of his hands along your back.

Your hands tremble slightly with pleasure as they involuntarily grasp the strands falling at the nape of his neck.

Jungkook hisses through his teeth but doesn't resist, in fact he seems to like this little gesture from you.

You look at him for a moment and his adam's apple is so inviting that you can't resist the temptation.

You move his head to the side to get more access and lick the surface up to his jaw.

You would continue to enjoy this lewd moment as long as it lasted.

You thought you would tease each other for a while and then go back to your friends, but no.

Jungkook is just as involved as you are.

The groan that vibrates in his throat reached a part of your brain that is now completely short-circuited.

"I want to fuck you."

The words come out with frightening ease and are enough to make Jungkook look back at you through lidded eyes.

“And I don't want anything more than that.”

You know you're not ready to take that leap, but the uncertainty hidden in your voice reaches somewhere in your chest.

It hurts something when you watch him smile widely at your latest statement.

A fleeting pain, overtaken by the strong desire caused by the hardness of his member, throbbing against your thigh.

“Yeah, we definitely want the exact same thing.”

It was already quite clear, but hearing you say it is something else.

Jungkook moves away from you, leaving your body to the cold void his hands left.

Then, he grabs your hand, leading you past the crowd and towards the other side of the place.

You look around, convinced he wants to take you to the bathrooms, but you realize that with every step you take, you are getting closer to the locker's room.

"Where are we going?"

You ask loudly, as Jungkook continues his zig zag through the people holding your hand.

"At my place." he answers.

“I thought you wanted to do it in the bathroom, haven't you been drinking?”

You know that driving under the influence of alcohol is a terrible idea.

Jungkook stops in his tracks for a moment noticing your hesitation in continuing and you hear him chuckle before answering.

"I shared a joint before," he looks into your eyes, as you inspect them, "And then, you saw me drinking a cola, I don't drink alcohol."

Jungkook continues to look at you, though his eyes avoid yours now, lingering on your lips.

You want to ask him more but before you can, he leans in close to you to whisper, making your legs tremble in anticipation.

“Besides, why would I take you to a public bathroom when I can make you scream in the comfort of my own bed?”

He knows all too well that he has the upper hand and is taking advantage of it.

Damn Jeon Jungkook and the effect he has on you.

The heat spreads again in your belly and when you look at him you just want to bite that plump lip, tease his piercing and let that mocking smile get lost in moans of pleasure.

“Or maybe you feel more comfortable doing it at yours?”

His tone of voice lacks malice this time, after all, you have now understood that Jungkook is a caring person and therefore he wants to avoid making you feel uncomfortable.

You nod and smile at his consideration.

"At mine."

Jungkook tightens his hand around yours again, smirking.

You quickly reach the exit after collecting your things from the lockers.

And there she is, Ducky.

You will climb on her for the second time, soon there will even be a third, you can't help but smile at the thought.

Strange how different reasons are leading you to get on a motorbike so often, not that this is a complaint, far from it.

You tremble at the thought of experiencing certain sensations once again, this time even, with the prospect of sleeping with Jungkook.

He invites you to wear his gear once again, but you strenuously refuse to deprive him of his jacket this time. Even though he was annoyed at first, Jungkook had to give in to your determination.

December cold is unforgiving.

In order to compromise, you wear his helmet, unable to argue with its importance.

You reach your apartment complex after a while, Jungkook was driving the entire time at a speed well under the legal limit, allowing you to hug his body to shield yourself from the cold as much as possible.

Once you reach the building's underground parking lot, you get off Ducky and take off the helmet to hand it to him. You smile brightly and hear Jungkook chuckle to himself as he shakes his head.

"You really like to ride, huh?"

You look at him while he's fixing his disheveled hair and it's a vision that you didn't think could affect you so much.

You think Jungkook would look sexy even wearing a battered potato sack, but seeing him in these clothes, you think, will always turn you on.

“Oh trust me, I love riding Ducky, but I can't wait to ride you.”

You haven't felt this lustful for someone in a while.

Surely the drinks you had before are not supporting you to keep certain thoughts to yourself.

Jungkook sighs visibly impressed by your bluntness and you could swear you heard him curse.

"Can't wait for you to show me."

Seeing Jungkook now, in the flesh, inside your apartment is something.

You watch as he places his helmet near the entrance door and places his jacket on top of it before taking off his shoes.

As you do the same, taking off your coat and shoes to put them away, he looks around, taking in the appearance of your apartment.

The foyer is small but well arranged, with a large mirror and a shoe rack right beside it.

You lead the way to reach your couch in the living room and as you walk, his eyes land on some of your latest sketches scattered around on a counter, one of it appears to be a pair of boxing gloves and he finds himself chuckling like an idiot.

As you do the same, taking off your coat and shoes to put them away, he looks around, taking in the appearance of your apartment.

The foyer is small but well arranged, with a large mirror and a shoe rack right beside it and the little hallway that connects your entrance to your living area is decorated with pictures, plants and some of your favorite sketches.

You lead the way to reach your couch in the living room and as he walks behind you, his eyes land on some of your latest sketches scattered around on the counter of your kitchen, one of it appears to be a pair of boxing gloves and he finds himself chuckling like an idiot.

"Why are you laughing?"

You're puzzled by his sudden reaction.

"I like your apartment, it fits your vibe."

He answers quietly and you smile shyly in appreciation, suggesting him to make himself comfortable on the couch.

"Want something to drink?

You ask him, walking behind the counter to reach your fridge.

"Just water, thanks."

He replies as he sits comfortably. You get some fresh water and when you get back you offer him the glass.

Jungkook sips from it and you join him on the couch.

Your heart always beats so fast in his presence that by now you're almost getting used to the constant hustle and bustle in your chest.

"You really don't like alcohol."

You say lightheartedly as you gather your legs up on the couch and turn to face him.

You curse your damn mouth when you realize that your comment made Jungkook tense up.

You just wanted to make him feel comfortable but before you can think of something to recover, Jungkook takes another sip of water before replying in a low voice.

"Yeah. I prefer weed, even though I rarely smoke anymore."

His eyes look at you for a brief moment, dark as pitch or a moonless sky.

They then move to the coffee table in front of you to put the glass down.

"I'd say you don't need it anyway. You don't need it to boost your confidence, like me."

Something moves in his eyes when you say this. His hand on your thigh pulls your attention away.

You watch it as it lays on your thigh softly.

The tone of his voice, his firm aversion to alcohol and his troubled eyes makes you ponder, but you can't formulate any sentence that doesn't risk making him even more gloomy.

Jungkook taught you many things in the gym, undoubtedly to throw good punches, but also to have courage in general, to dare and not to let fears stop you.

He was able to free that part of you that you have always adored, the one that made you achieve your most ambitious goals, despite having to sacrifice a healthy relationship with your family.

And he was able to get you there, easily, without even having to tell you openly what to do.

Despite his tacit support helped you regain a little confidence, you feel like he doesn't need the same. Like he needs you to voice your thoughts with him, even if it's not always as easy as after a few drinks on your system.

You've always sensed that something keeps him anchored to a remote island in the back of his mind and you don't want him to take refuge there right now.

"You are right,"

Your voice is sweet, it matches his from earlier and with one movement you lift yourself, moving one leg to take it beyond his.

You sit on his thighs and place your hands gently on his shoulders.

Jungkook looks at you smugly and pleasantly surprised and you're happy to notice that island receding in the mirror of his eyes.

They slowly fill with lust for you, as they observe your body so close to his.

“Even though I drank a little, I'm sober enough to say that everything I did tonight, I've always wanted to do.”

Jungkook feels the weight of your body and the weight of your words right on his.

You're sitting directly on his growing member and his hands find their place on your hips as he pulls you closer.

“Wait until you see what I've always wanted to do to you.”

With that, his mouth takes over your neck.

He tastes your skin like he's finally testing a drop of water after a walk in the desert and you're the only source he wants to put his mouth on.

You moan as you tilt your head to let him taste you as he pleases.

Jungkook takes the opportunity to bite you a little, leaving a small blush on your skin and licking it to soothe the stinging spot.

You try to control yourself as his hands venture up your back.

“You have a condom on you?” You whisper all of a sudden.

Jungkook keeps kissing your neck, hesitantly moving one hand from your body only to pull a condom out of his back pocket.

He hands it to you and then grabs the hem of your sweater, stopping his assault to help you take it off. A shiver runs up your spine, realizing you're now in your bra in front of him, the cool air of the room brushes against your hot skin and his hands promptly return to your hips and back.

You squeeze the little silver package between your fingers as he pulls your body against him, your hips move almost automatically as you feel his member getting harder and harder. And in return you get wetter and wetter.

You're a complete mess in his arms as you buck your hips, panting slightly at every movement.

When his hands press you more against him, a loud moan leaves your lips and with it, the last bit of restraint you had.

You grab the hem of his sweatshirt, urgently undressing him.

"Someone is impatient." He chuckles breathlessly as he lets you undress him.

"Your fault." You reply as you move to undo his jeans.

"Yeah? And what are you gonna do about it?"

The aroused expression on your face is something he hopes to keep in mind for as long as possible.

You drop down to help him take off his jeans completely and Jungkook remains in his black Calvin Klein briefs. The outline of his hard member held with difficulty in the confines of the fabric, making you salivate at its sight.

You stand up and take the opportunity to remove your pants in front of him, while his gaze is glued to you.

If his eyes could touch, you would feel their stroke everywhere right now, like a dry brush on a virgin canvas.

They eagerly study every single curve, every movement you do is carefully followed as you reveal your panties and legs to him.

“You're so hot Y/N…”

You hear him breathing heavily and only after adding your pants to the pile of clothes do you turn back to look him in the eyes.

He's touching himself through his underwear at the sight of your body and despite everything that already happened, you're still blushing.

You are engulfed in the flames of pleasure, yet the blush on your cheeks is caused by something deeper.

You ignore this thought immediately, setting aside that thing that tries to push to make itself some space and focus on the need that screams between your legs instead.

You climb on top of him again, leaning on his shoulders.

"Jungkook,"

You whisper in his ear, looking him in the eyes right now would mean exposing yourself too much, paradoxically.

What a strange contradiction though.

You're already almost completely naked in front of him, but the idea of letting him look you in the eyes while you say the next words makes you feel too vulnerable.

"If we do this, I want us to agree on a few things."

As you try to regain your courage, you lick his neck, moving down towards his collarbone to reach his pectorals.

"I'm listening."

He sighs as he lets his head go back, as if wanting to give you total access to him, basking in the feelings your tongue is giving.

Jungkook is completely engrossed, he seems to enjoy every little thing without thinking too much while you're struggling to let yourself go completely.

The friendship that has developed between you over these months is something you care about and you wouldn't want to ruin it for simple sex.

Even if you're dying to enjoy these moments you've been craving, you're afraid of ruining everything.

"We're just friends who are going to fuck, right?"

You ask tentatively as you continue to leave a trail of saliva with your tongue and lips across his toned chest.

"No awkwardness after."

You're not sure why you're saying this when you can't even look him in the eyes right now, but at the same time you're saying it precisely to not let your fear stop you.

Maybe you're just trying to convince yourself that nothing will change and that you can let yourself go, or just to make sure you both are still on the same page, but Jungkook doesn't seem to notice your inner conflict right now, too distracted by your ministrations probably.

"This is not going to ruin our friendship if that's what you're worried about."

He states between breaths as he wraps a hand in the middle of your hair.

“The fact that we both know what we want from each other and what we don't, won't cause any problems, don't you think?”

He pulls your hair slightly to expose your neck, and you close your eyes unconsciously when you feel his lips on your skin once again.

"No awkwardness after."

His whisper makes you shiver with pleasure and almost as if you needed to have this confirmation from him, you open your eyes and move to finally be able to lower his underwear.

His penis rises free from the confines and you are a little surprised at the size. He throbs in front of you with the tip red and moist as you observe the succulent veins adorning its surface.

"So we're gonna be ride buddies and friends who fucked once."

Jungkook holds his legs open as you get on your knees in front of him to pull his briefs completely off.

"Let's see if you still want it to be once after I fuck you just right."

You smile sensing Jungkook's usual way of doing things, his classic way of provoking you while he smiles with confidence.

"Bold are we?"

You snicker as you pump your little fist around his shaft a couple of times.

He hisses.

"You've got the lead for now, wait and see when it's my turn."

He says through gritted teeth as he clearly tries not to give in to your touch too shamefully.

"We'll see."

You move closer, gently placing your lips on the side of his cock as you continue to move your hand slowly.

The intense teasing served to make him super responsive.

Jungkook squirms a little when you carefully spread his precum on the sensitive tip.

You hear as he tries to limit his sounds.

You look up momentarily when your mouth finally settles around his moistened tip, only to see his reaction.

Jungkook instinctively brings his head back and his mouth opens in a silent moan of pleasure.

He sighs heavily as his hands grip the fabric of the couch he's sitting on.

The vision of his naked body exposed to your will causes a shiver down your spine and with your free hand you move down until you reach the most sensitive part of your body.

You give yourself pleasure as you move your mouth and hand finding a rhythm that could be pleasant for him.

You listen carefully for any reaction that might let you know that you are doing the right thing as you keep your eyes closed, completely letting yourself go to the small sounds he makes.

When you twist your wrist slightly and let go of his cock with a pop to catch your breath, Jungkook lets out a throaty moan and he is breathing noticeably faster now.

You're so wet now that you think he could fit inside you without too much effort, you continue to tease your clit while jerking him off at the same speed.

You leave a trail of little kisses along his member, from the tip to the balls.

You look at him again and unexpectedly meet his gaze.

You feel your confidence waver for the briefest of moments when you notice his eyes looking at you intently.

His pierced lip is caught between his teeth as he breathes deeply through his nose.

He's trying in every way possible to block any sound that might come from his mouth and it's almost annoying to notice the effort he puts into it.

"Let me hear."

You say softly between small kisses.

“I want to know if I'm doing well or not.”

You tickle with your wet tongue from bottom to top, once again reaching the sensitive tip.

His cock throbs in your hand and you smirk satisfied.

You don't need to hear his moans to know that he's completely into it, but you still want to hear them because of you, it's almost a visceral need at this point.

"You're doing great,"

He responds in a deep voice.

He moves the hair that has fallen in front of your eyes with a finger as he tries to steady his breathing.

A soft gesture that makes your heart skip a beat, but you keep your focus on your movements.

Your hands continue to move in unison as you moan, kissing and licking his cock. You purposely avoid taking him fully into your mouth, teasing him every now and then when you feel the sounds getting stuck in his throat.

You feel pervaded by the power that these circumstances can give.

Jungkook watches you the whole time as you work on him and yourself.

He evidently noticed the effect his words had on you, his little praise gave you more confidence, allowing you to let go a little more.

Jungkook suddenly stops you by placing a hand on your shoulder just when you thought he was enjoying it a lot, or at least it seemed like that from his persistent and muffled groaning.

“Y/N, let me taste you please..”

You hear the desperation in his voice and you can see it in his face when you lean up to look at him, a little bit of saliva wetting your chin.

His eyes are completely dark, full of the longing that you know he can see in your eyes too.

He moves to stand up, forcing you back onto your feet before picking you up.

You yelp at the sudden motion, holding onto his neck for support as he helps you wrap your legs around his hips.

“Where is your bedroom?”

Jungkook asks as he latches onto your already battered neck.

"Down the hallway, second door on the right."

In no time, Jungkook transports you following your directions. He pushes the door open with his foot before entering and letting you lie on your soft bed.

He watches you bounce once on it, then looks you up and down with an unreadable look.

Being in your apartment, on your bed, almost completely naked in front of him, definitely makes you bolder, feeling more comfortable.

You just realized how far you've gone with him, that you can't go back now.

Not that you want to, honestly.

You observe him, majestic in front of you, the faint glow of the moon that leaks into the room illuminates his skin deliciously, accentuating every muscle of his toned body.

Your eyes do their best to capture every detail and imprint it in your memory.

Jungkook bends over you, caging your legs with his powerful arms.

You remain propped up on your forearms as your breathing becomes increasingly labored.

His hands rest at your sides and with a firm but delicate movement, he pulls you towards him.

He bends down to let his tongue leave a wet trail across your belly, to the edge of your panties.

The passage of his mouth so close to your core, feeds the fire in your belly.

"Can I?"

He asks softly as his thumbs hook your panties on both sides.

He looks at you, patiently waiting for your permission.

Or your refusal.

You see a hint of hesitation in his gaze, as if he doesn't want to go any further against your will.

You can feel this small detail slowly infiltrating under your skin. You feel it brings to the light something that you would have preferred to remain in the dark, especially in this moment.

Ray.

Why did he always assumed he could take everything without ever asking?

Why doesn't Jungkook take without asking?

These are questions you can't answer. Deep down you know you don't want them, that answers would only cause you more pain.

You swallow, trying to shut off the bitter taste of the past.

"Please…"

You can't say anything else, you whisper this simple word that encompasses everything you're feeling right now.

Please do it.

Please make me forget all the bad things for tonight.

Please take me.

His eyes light up and his skilled hands easily remove the fabric that covered your most intimate part.

Only now you do realize how uncomfortable and annoying the wet fabric you were wearing was.

You feel the cool air hit the moist and hot skin of your pussy and you sigh when his hands return to you after leaving the newly removed garment somewhere on the floor.

He gently places his hands on your thighs, spreading them just enough so he can observe your dripping wet pussy.

Seeing the glisten of your juices makes his blood burn in his veins.

You gasp when his soft lips lay on your clit.

Jungkook is humming delightedly, then he starts to kiss it with delicacy, allowing you to adapt to the stimulus while he lets his tongue tease you slowly.

You close your eyes and try to relax your legs.

His lips are more insistent, until he ends up making out with your soft wet pussy.

You can't hold back your moans and you lie down completely on the bed as you let him eat you out.

Just as you had done earlier, he maintains a slow but precise pace, as if he wants to take revenge for all the teasing and savor your flavor at the same time.

Unlike his, your moans follow one another and you can't stop yourself.

They gradually become stronger and more intense as Jungkook continues to make out with your pussy.

He holds your hips, soothing the skin right beneath his thumbs with circular motions.

It's a sensation you've never felt before, you feel your orgasm building slowly, so slowly that you almost think you'll lose it at any moment, only to change your mind when with precise movements you feel the pleasure accumulating, like waves that add to each other. One after another, before reaching the coast in one large, powerful wave.

He moves his tongue with a constant rhythm and when with a faint voice you warn him that you are about to come, surprisingly enough, Jungkook maintains the same rhythm, he doesn't speed up, he doesn't press his tongue more forcefully against your already very sensitive clit.

With pleasant surprise, you notice that he keeps this pace and it is clear that he knows what he is doing.

He doesn't go crazy trying to catch it, when he already knows where and how to find it.

The only difference is the intensity with which he makes out with your pussy, kissing and licking it passionately, drunk on your juices.

You moan louder as your body tenses more and more like a violin string, until with a delicate but firm movement of his tongue, your orgasm hits you violently.

With his gentle and precise gestures, you didn't expect such an intense and violent orgasm, your body writhes in ecstasy while a string of profanities and panting breaths leave your lips.

Your legs try to close as they tremble from the stimulation, but Jungkook firmly separates them again, enjoying the taste of you for a little longer. You hear him groan and at a quick glance you notice his frowning expression.

You whine from the overstimulation and it's the only signal that seems to stop him.

He pulls off while still remaining in front of your throbbing and swollen pussy and his labored breathing tickles you gently.

“Sorry,” he states, licking his shiny lips for a moment. “You taste so sweet I couldn't stop.”

You look at him while you feel a constant pounding in your chest and your breathing doesn't want to calm down.

His hair is disheveled, his cheeks are flushed and his eyebrows are still a little furrowed.

You prop yourself up on your elbows again, one hand reaching for his hair, letting it sink into its messy locks, as if wanting to tidy them up a bit.

"I wanna ride you now."

You state decisively and perhaps a little too pretentious, you add,

"Can I?"

Jungkook looks at you as he stands up, offers you a hand while you observe him in all his beauty, naked and with his erect member that you can't wait to welcome inside you.

Tonight you got to immortalize every detail of his body in your memory.

His totally tattooed arm, his sculpted body and his face, at times so sweet that you couldn't believe it is capable of contorting into those expressions of pleasure that you saw earlier.

You accept his hand and let him pull you onto him while he says "How can I say no when you ask it so nicely."

You smile mischievously and take the opportunity to accompany him, pushing him by the shoulders onto your bed.

Jungkook takes place where you were laying, he sinks into your sheets as he settles in.

You reach him with your legs still shaking and climb up until you're almost sitting on his thighs.

You pick up the condom that you had previously abandoned on the bed next to you, but before you can open it to let him put it on, you can't resist the temptation to put your mouth back on his inviting cock.

You give a provocative lick, spreading your saliva all over the surface you trace and you understand how much he too wants to finally be able to feel you when his hips suddenly move upwards.

"Fuck-"

You continue to lick slowly for a few moments while you stimulate him a little with your hand.

When you look at him, he's already looking at you and it doesn't surprise you, his mouth is slightly open as he tries to regulate his breathing.

He looks so sexy right now, you can see in his expression the immense heat burning in his irises. The need he feels to possess you.

"Stop teasing me."

His voice is strained and his face speaks clearly: if you continue like this he won't resist much longer, he can't wait to see you jump on his cock.

The mere look in his eyes makes you clench your walls in anticipation and with a little effort you finally get him to wear the condom.

You move to finally be able to position yourself on his erect member and begin to lower yourself. A shiver runs through your limbs, the small tingling you feel as he penetrates you is almost immediately replaced by pleasure.

Jungkook is big, but you're so wet that he can slide inside you with ease.

You support yourself with your hands on his chest as you close your eyes to fully enjoy the sensations you're feeling. You continue to move down until you are completely seated on him. You feel full, his hands resting on your hips and squeezing you lightly.

When you reopen your eyes, you look at him and get lost for an infinite moment in front of what you see.

Jungkook looks at you through eyes half closed in pleasure, he's been looking at you the entire time, as if the scene in front of him is the key to understanding the entire movie.

If memory had any capacity, this moment would take up most of the space in Jungkook's mind for a long time to come.

After a few moments, you feel like you've gotten used to his girth and can finally move up and down.

Despite your legs still shaking from your previous orgasm, you manage to move at an increasing pace.

You moan without caring about the sounds you make, music to Jungkook's ears as he lets you do what you want with him, accompanying your movements with his hands.

You move messily as your legs start losing strength. You alternate your motions by rubbing your clit on him, moaning loudly when you feel your little sensitive nub stimulated like this and the squelching sound of your pussy fills the room.

Jungkook hastily moves his hands behind your back, pulling at your bra to unclasp it. He doesn't take it off of you completely though, finding it more sexy the way he jumps up and down following your movements.

"Fuck yes.."

He groans as he watches hypnotized your breasts bouncing out of your bra.

Then he tilts his head back onto your pillow as his arms flex with the motions of your body.

You bounce on his cock the best you can, tracing the side of his throat with your thumb, right above a little red spot you sucked on his skin.

The vision is enchanting.

The sounds he makes, addicting.

You're breathless, the muscles of your legs are burning from the effort but you keep bouncing and humping as you feel you're close to the second orgasm of the night.

"I-I'm clo-"

You're so close to the point of no return but suddenly, your legs are failing you and just like that, you tiredly collapse on his body.

Jungkook is quick to react, grabbing your hips tight enough to support you and adjust his position under you as he starts to thrust up.

Your moans are broken by every thrust as he diligently hammers your pussy up just right.

"You're so hot Y/N. So fucking hot."

He groans softly, pulling you impossibly closer.

You feel strange, like you're burning alive and flying at the same time.

You comfortably lay on his body as you let him lead you to the peak of your pleasure, licking and kissing his neck and ear lobe in the meantime.

"Fuck yes- yes!"

You moan his name as the fire explodes all of a sudden and the extreme pleasure you've built till now, crushes hard on you. And just like that, you feel your legs shake and your head light like a leaf blown by a gentle breeze.

Jungkook's thrusts slow down a little, milking your orgasm slowly till the very end. He only stops when you start whimpering, knowing you're probably super sensitive right now.

He pulls out and you whine to the feeling of emptiness, your walls slightly pulsing as you already miss the sensation of his cock deep inside of you.

"Are you ok?"

He asks you as he tries to stabilize his breathing.

Your body is still glued to his, your breathing is as ragged as his and you let the beating sound of his heart soothe you for a moment longer before you nod.

You slowly get up hissing a little and you look at him.

"Cum on me."

There's no longer space for filters and your brain is so fucked out that it doesn't even care how needy you sound right now. Even after your two orgasms.

You're craving his touch, his sinful sounds, and you wanna know what it feels like to have his cum on your skin.

He smiles amused, chuckling a little.

"Yeah? And where do you want me to cum?"

His voice is husky and you feel your body reacting to that.

You buck your hips on his cock, blocking it between you and his stomach.

Are you even sane right now? Did he fuck you out of your own brain?

"On my ass."

Yes, you're totally gone.

You're totally gone for this man.

You watch him as you keep moving on him, you see he swallows a moan as your wet pussy keeps rubbing on his member.

"Aren't you sensitive right now?"

He asks lowly.

"I can handle it."

You sit up, your battered pussy is still recovering from two orgasms but you know you can take it and you just want to show him how badly you still want him inside of you.

He laughs mischievously, looking at your fucked out beautiful face with pride.

"Lie on your belly for me, then."

You willingly obey, throwing your bra out of the way completely and resting your figure on your belly, just as he asked.

You can't see him from this position, you only feel his hand reach for your leg, bending it so that you're able to turn a little to the side.

He now has the possibility to keep looking at your body from this perspective. He has your ass, the side of your breast and your face at his mercy and he can't wait to enjoy your every expression from here.

"Stop me if it's too much."

You feel the weight of his firm body lay on you as he whispers, and when you turn your head to nod you meet his face, dangerously close to yours that you can feel his hot breath caressing you.

You're spread under him, fresh out from the two orgasms he just gave you and totally naked, yet there it is, the look you wanted to avoid earlier, the one you knew would make you feel really, really vulnerable.

The mixture of his cares, his soft voice and his piercing dark eyes are sending danger signals to your brain as it feeds something deep in your chest.

You try to escape, diverting your eyes from the magnetism of his by nodding.

Jungkook pulls a little away, positioning himself right at your entrance.

You can hear him spit and the next thing you feel is his lubricated cock slowly pushing in.

You never felt like this, never had multiple orgasms and still wanted to fuck. The sensitivity is still there, you feel the heat spreading to your nerves as he slowly but surely bottoms up.

It's only when he starts moving that you feel a peak in your pleasure, like he is able to touch all the right spots at once.

He finds a rhythm, grabbing the flesh of your ass and pulling you to meet his hips.

Your breath is irregular, just like his, and you start pushing your palm on the sheets as every thrust is pushing you up the bed.

Jungkook has a better idea though.

He lets go of your ass completely as he swiftly grabs your arm and blocks it behind your back.

Feeling restrained like this by him causes a moan to escape your throat, followed by another one when he uses your arm as a grip instead of your ass to keep you in place.

"You like that huh"

He says through gritted teeth, the angle allows him to see the profile of your face as he fucks you hard and steady.

Your sweet innocent face, contorted in pleasure is an ethereal vision to his eyes.

And the fact that it's him causing you to feel this good, makes him feral.

You say yes a couple of times between your moans and heavy breaths.

He speeds up his pace a little more, always cautious of your reactions, not wanting you to feel any discomfort.

But what he hears from you next is what makes his balls tighten dangerously.

"Slap my ass, please-"

Your voice is broken but firm as you say it and something about it makes him go completely insane.

Perhaps the "please" part, or the way in which you're voicing your desire right now, mixed with your sweet moans and submissiveness.

He slaps his free hand onto your buttock hard enough to sting, and listens to the smacking sound and the throaty moan you let out resonate in his ears.

"Oh fuck-"

He lets out, pure ecstasy laced in his raspy voice as he soothes your skin.

His thrusts are becoming sloppier, more erratic, and he's louder than before as he's chasing his own orgasm now.

You're addicted to the sounds he makes during sex, that's clear by now. Every time a throaty moan escapes his lips, you wish you could record it and use it when you'll be alone.

Suddenly, he frees your arm and pulls out. You assume he's taking off the condom as you try to regain some strength to push your hair away and look at him over your shoulder.

You watch him pumping fast his cock as his free hand strokes the reddened skin of your ass.

His eyes are shut tightly and you keep watching him moan loudly as spurs of his hot cum land on your ass.

He keeps pumping till the last drop then he slaps his cock on your cum covered skin and you've never seen something hotter than what just happened.

When he comes down from his orgasm, he smirks at you, tired and satisfied.

You chuckle softly, covering your face with your arm without even noticing.

“Fuck, that was-”

"Amazing. Yes"

It was, it was indeed amazing.

He finishes your sentence in a small voice as he tries to steady his ragged breathing, still remaining where he is.

You feel his hot seed slowly dripping down your skin and when your breath is stable enough you move to the side of the bed to get up.

“I'm gonna take a quick shower, if you don't mind.”

you say, moving to get to your bathroom.

“Not at all, go ahead.”

When your shower is over and you feel refreshed and relaxed, you return to your room with only a robe covering you, your skin still a little damp under the fabric of the robe.

Surprisingly you find him fully dressed, you sure didn't expect him to stay longer but you at least wanted him to take a shower before leaving.

"Are you sure you don't wanna take a shower too?"

You ask him as you approach.

"Yeah don't worry." you watch him as he brushes his hair out of his face and fixes his clothes.

You remain silent after that, it feels strange and a little heavy.

Should you ask him to stay?

Will it be awkward from now on?

Was it a mistake from the beginning?

You don't want him to think you're kind of kicking him out. The unhealthy overthinking starts pestering you and you don't even notice you've walked with him to the door of your apartment.

He gathers his helmet and jacket from the floor and turns to you with a little smile.

"I better go. Don't want Ducky to get jealous."

It makes you laugh lightly and you can't keep yourself from playfully rolling your eyes at him.

It's still him, the Jungkook that loves to tease you and makes silly jokes.

You probably needed this to get back on earth and realize that you should stop overthinking.

"Oh! Of course we don't want that!"

You emphasize and your fake concern makes him chuckle.

It won't be awkward from now on after all.

You open the door for him and when he comes out he zips up his jacket, ready to leave.

"Let me know when you're going to the shop to get your gear."

He smiles, one of those smiles that make the drums go crazy in your chest.

"I will. Drive safe."

And for a moment you smile at each other, probably knowing that from this exact moment, it won't be easy to keep your hands away from each other.

Tonight marked an important step for you, not only the boost of confidence that you sported, but you can tell with certainty that your past is still bothering you, from time to time, but it doesn't have your present in its claws.

The decisions you made tonight could bring you to another disappointment, to another loss. Especially when this sensation on your chest keeps going off almost as a reminder, telling you 'Hey, in case you didn't notice, I'm right here!'

It will probably pass if you just ignore it…

It will go away as fast as it came… Right?

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