#I also intend for her to have dark hair but I doubt it’s mentioned

[harrysloveboat]

John B’s Girl | PT. 2

Read Part 1 here.

Summary: John B comes face to face with the ugly truth and reacts in the most expected way. JJ can’t hold back anymore, willing to risk it all for one person. All the while (Y/N) deals with the consequences of her choices.

Word Count: 27.5K, (18+, Minors DNI, Mature Audience)

Warnings: Angst, heartbreak, smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up), rough sex, soft!dom JJ, DARK!JJ, fluff, choking, subspace, clit play, degrading, slight daddy kink, slight mention of anal, physical fight, very minor mention of abuse, blood play, biting (just once), a little thigh riding, JJxCameron!Reader, JohnBxCameron!Reader etc.

A/N: I’m so sorry this took so long, I accidentally took this one shot farther than intended and my life got in the way while writing so it was delayed😭

I hope you guys enjoy it and that it was worth the wait! I was also listening to Chris Briney’s playlist while writing parts of it so feel free to play that while reading🙈 pt.3 coming soon, comment on the taglist if you’d like to know when it comes out❤️

JJ’s mind was reeling as he departed the van with a quick tug of his shorts and a clasp of the button.

He had stepped on his red hat when jumping out, mindlessly dusting the sand off of it without a care as his legs led him back to the fire pit. JJ was simply going through the motions, doing his best to ignore the way the fabric of his boxers dragged against his softening member. He flicked his tongue across his bottom lip, tasting the remnants of her sweet peak. The hat was placed on backwards to cover his tousled hair from view. He could still feel her on every indention and arch of his toned body. Believing one time would truly satiate his need for (Y/N) was a complete joke.

It was a cruel and ridiculous notion.

If anything, that’s all he could think about now. A small taste wasn’t enough, he wanted to suffocate between her legs and leave her quaking. Fuck her mouth until she had pretty tears streaming down her cheeks and saliva dribbling down her chin. Make her scream his name until she went mute. JJ had half a mind to turn around and act on impulse before Kie’s curly hair popped into his frame and refrained him from completing his body’s request. She was wearing a frown, brown eyes searching behind JJ while speaking. “Hey J. John B’s been looking for (Y/N) for a while apparently. You seen her?”

Yeah, I was fucking her in the van.

JJ let out a small breath at his thoughts, shaking his head innocently. “Nope. No clue,” he lied knowing she was probably still recuperating in the van. But he played the part so perfectly, feigning worry to mirror her state. His ocean blue eyes aimlessly flickered through the crowd without actually zoning in on anyone. “Does JB have any clue where she is?�� It was hard to contain the mixture of emotions he felt for his best friend at the moment.

On one hand, John B taken it too far involving an unwilling JJ into his cruel game. Using him to get his revenge on (Y/N) and getting off on forcing him to watch something he was forbidden from claiming. On the other hand, John B’s initial reservations about their behavior was proven more than accurate by the fact that his girlfriend was most likely getting dressed in the Twinkie after JJ had just gotten done railing into her.

“You guys find her yet?” Pope’s intrusion at his right side brought him back to the conversation at hand. Kie sighed, genuinely growing more worried as time passed. “No.. I mean, it’s not like she could’ve went far? She came with us and I doubt she’d leave with Rafe without telling us,” Kie crossed her arms over her chest faintly recalling the oldest Cameron hanging out with Topper a while ago but (Y/N) wouldn’t have just left with him. Things between the two siblings had been tense for a while now with her dating a Pogue. “Well I just saw him flirting with some poor Touron so that’s not even an option,” Pope’s confirmation was layered with disgust not able to imagine what poor girl would fall for his antics.

John B appearing out of thin air from the crowd was what really made JJ zone in fully.

Neither of them had to say a word for the air to grow tense. John B hadn’t really taken the time to watch JJ’s reaction when (Y/N) unraveled in front of him, but it was easy to guess that his best friend had caught on. The fact that JJ didn’t seem as worried as the others fed into the foreboding dread he was trying to pretend wasn’t there. They turned into two alpha males fighting over territory the second they made eye contact. Standing proud with chests puffed up, oozing testosterone into a suddenly hostile setting.

“Lost your girl JB?”

He didn’t have to poke the bear but JJ is simply a victim of his true nature.

After all, it was John B who chose to start this. How could he be blamed?

The smirk that played on his otherwise innocent features sent John B into a spiral. His hand would form a fist and then loosen, only to repeat. The unspoken words JJ was attempting to convey were being understood perfectly. Kie looked between them, becoming aware of the undeniable tension swelling in the air. A lid was about to blow off and Kie wasn’t sure if it would be John B or JJ to lose it first. Pope was as oblivious as ever, checking his phone to send (Y/N) another text.

“I saw her for a little bit.”

John B’s teeth gritted as he took a step forward. The implications the blonde haired boy was making was only triggering the residual jealousy inside of him. He would be a fool to not notice the sparkle in his girlfriends eyes when JJ demanded her attention. It was like a punch to the kidney remembering the pause she took when being introduced to him. John B wasn’t one to normally struggle with his worth, but it was too easy to assume that things might’ve turned out different if JJ had been the one who got the job with Ward Cameron instead of him.

“I’m picking up some weird vibes..,” Kie interrupted with a tentative tone, eyes flickering between the two.

John B was a giddy kid on Christmas morning watching the two girls mingle on the boat. (Y/N) Cameron was actually sitting on the H.M.S. Pogue in a sexy little one piece bikini talking to his friends. And she was dating him.

“JJ’s not gonna like her.”

“JJ has to like her.”

“Yeah but he’s not going to.”

“You’re killing my mood Pope.”

“She’s the Kook Princess for fucks sake.”

“If you’re cussing that means you’re really mad,” John B was partially teasing. Pope was hitting too close to home without realizing it. JJ’s been his best friend since the third grade. Everything significant that ever happened to JB always made its way back to JJ. Anytime he skipped school, JJ was the one who led the charge. Any idea or scheme, good or bad, was brought up between the two before anyone else. Hell even the grinded herbs spilled on the floor of his guest bedroom belonged to none other than his partner in crime.

JJ not liking his girlfriend because she was a Kook just wasn’t an option.

Pope rolled his eyes while carrying the cooler (Y/N) and Kie had packed off the deck. “I get ignored but I’m always right,” he mistook his friend’s carefree attitude for confidence. There was just no way Pope wasn’t going to be right about this. There wasn’t a walking Kook on Outer Banks that didn’t receive the bad end of one of JJ’s stink eyes or his colorful language. The Kook Princess and her knight and shining armor at the time, Topper, were the main topic of many drunk rants about social inequality.

John B pensively knocked against the wooden railing with his beer can, accepting Pope’s prediction. “Okay well- we can always leave them stranded so they can work their shit out,” John B threw up a solution to the mix. Pope dropped the cooler before giving him a pointed look. “It’s truly scary how quickly you came up with that,” he was a little impressed and frightened at the same time.

Pope’s gaze moved behind him, heavy footsteps giving way to the queasiness that came with jitters. “Fishin’ for some drum today boys?” JJ’s chipper voice put an end to their discussion and forced fake smiles. Pope began undoing the rope tying them to the dock with a quick nod. John B didn’t have time to react with his special guest already making her way towards the cooler that Pope had brought on board. The time he thought he had to come up with a plan disappeared. Kie scrambled up at his arrival to help diffuse any situation that might unfold while John B shifted to face his girlfriend and best friend. “(Y/N) this is the last member of the Pogues, JJ Maybank. JJ, this is my girlfriend, (Y/N) Cameron. Thought she could come with us today,” he introduced them formally.

The rest just seemed to happen in slow motion.

His blue eyes landed on her, hair at the end of her ponytail drifting towards her left shoulder with the gust of wind. Cheeks flushed with a light shade of pink that JJ didn’t know the name of, but found himself suddenly wanting to. She reached up to lift her designer sunglasses from the brim of her nose to the top of her head. He swallowed hard, caught off guard by the gleam in her eyes that matched the magnitude of the suns’. Her glossy lips were moisturized by some chapstick JJ needed to know the flavor of. The bikini was black, with two openings at the side and simple spaghetti straps that only put emphasis on her chest. Every alluring inch of tanned skin was prompting him towards her.

The only time she ever really crossed his path was during a tussle with Topper or Rafe. He never really had the time or interest in concentrating on the Kook Princess.

Which in reality made a lot of sense to JJ.

Because he felt like he was actually seeing her for the first time. Like he didn’t even know who she was until now.

“Nice to properly meet you JJ, I- uhm..- I brought some beer over,” and it was the pause in her sweet voice that really sealed the deal.

(Y/N)’s field of vision was consumed by JJ. His muscular arms in the sleeveless gray t-shirt were shimmering with sweat. The cotton fabric hung low exposing the defined lines of his collarbones. The sun lit up the sapphire color in his eyes and sharpness of his jawline. And normally, normally, (Y/N) had a hatred for baseball caps. The way they ruined your hair after wearing them for too long. Or how the little hole in the back never sat just right with her ponytail. But today? Her entire perspective changed on them as she caught sight of the singular loose strand of hair falling onto JJ’s forehead. The red hat was facing the opposite way, blonde locks poking out under the sides of it. For heaven sakes JJ had a damn toothpick snug between his lips.

How could she not be thrown off by him? He was the epitome of a bad boy that would probably be haunting her dark dreams in the upcoming future.

“I didn’t know Kook Princesses knew that beers existed.”

With his playfulness, the stress in their surroundings dissolved.

A quiet snort on her end and his boots landing on the boat was the end of it. The big explosion they’d prepared for amounted to nothing more than a shared beverage and banter that was borderline flirtatious.

“Well… that could’ve gone way worse,” Pope noted from John B’s side.

In retrospect, it did go way worse.

“Everything okay?” (Y/N) called out to them from where she was making her way up to the huddled group preventing the storm that was brewing from unleashing. Her breathing was still uneven, fingers fiddling nervously with the shiny cross necklace at her neck. The vibrator still made it difficult to walk with the way it would slide inside of her restricting her from forgetting about the incident in the van but she was satiated for now. Able to process other thoughts than just JJ. Guilt was at the forefront of her conflicted emotions. Everybody but John B and JJ looked at her. They heard her but they hadn’t even broken their stand-off to acknowledge her presence.

Kie shot her head around to (Y/N) exhaling a sigh of relief since she appeared uninjured. But at a second glance, she noted the tangled mess of hair that had been miserably patted down and ran through. The subtle rise and fall of her chest to finish catching her breath. The crimson color painted on her cheeks that ran down her neck to her shoulders.

“Everything’s great now. JB was lookin’ for ya and I was just telling him that I’d ran into you,” JJ’s smirk widened. He was just having too much fun playing into the obvious suspicion that danced in John B’s brown eyes. It was hard to not want to blurt it out right then and there, that his little game hadn’t worked out the way he intended it to. The bittersweet moment that would eventually come when John B pulls the vibrator out was enough motivation to keep his mouth shut. A side of JJ he wasn’t aware of was coming out for vengeance.

(Y/N) had to physically stop herself from jabbing her elbow into JJ’s side. She wanted to come clean, tell John B the truth even if it would be devastatingly difficult to remedy. She owed him that now. “Yeah, by the fire pit. When I wasn’t feeling well. I had to get some fresh air,” it was sort of the truth. (Y/N) couldn’t pick this moment in front of everyone to be honest. She just wanted to make sure that he found out through her and not by opening JJ’s present.

“Mhm,” JJ hummed digging his fists into his pockets. It was her lie that bled false hope into John B as he finally broke with a peek her way. She was staring at him, silently pleading to back off with her big doe eyes. JJ couldn’t blame him for relaxing with one look her way, she had the same affect on him.

Pope adjusted his flannel with a heavy breath. “Well I don’t know about you guys, but that was a lot for one night. I’m ready to go to bed. And Pops ran me down dry today,” his body was still sore from all the deliveries and inventory he had done at the shop earlier. It was indeed getting a little late for all of them now. There was a good amount of liquor in their systems so calling it a night wasn’t a bad idea. Kie was still feeling unconvinced though. Nothing that was being said was wrong but it was the way it was being said. The heavy emotion that weighed the trio down. And of course, JJ was acting far too odd and smug.

“It was a lot for one night, huh?” JJ’s head whipped around to her then. He was so obviously referring to the fact he had busted a weeks load, who was he kidding, a months load of frustration into her. (Y/N)’s knuckles turned white around the chain feeling the way JJ peered down the front of her body and stopped at the end of her dress. Her body would be undeniably hot if anyone was to touch it at this very instant. “Yeah, we should get home,” her voice was shaky as she stepped toward John B, outstretching her free hand to him and rewarding JJ’s audacity without a glance over.

He wound his fingers around hers, letting her be the one to calm him down and wash the anger away. He didn’t bother looking at JJ again as they began walking because he’s afraid he might punch the stupid smirk off his face if he does. (Y/N) had accidentally already done that for him by taking John B’s hand.

“I tried-,” John B squeezed her hand lowering his voice as they walked a few steps ahead of their friends, “getting your attention.”

The vibrating noise the toy made against the metal flooring of the van echoed in her ears.

“Do you hear that? John B’s turning up the vibrator while you’re getting stuffed with his best friends cock.”

(Y/N) jumped out of her skin at the mention of the device. She cursed whatever higher power had led John B to making this purchase. Her skin crawled with the flashback it brought on. She was even angrier at herself for still being turned on by the way JJ had fucked her into utter submission. If she’d been in her right mind, she would’ve taken it out and wiped herself clean. But JJ had left her dazed. Perplexed by the intensity of pleasure and shame from not feeling guiltier than she should.

“I turned it off.”

“You.. turned it off?” John B repeated, shock evident on his features. There was never an actual contract between them with a set list of rules or anything but they were dabbling in punishment and handing over control so it didn’t make any sense to him. Why would she do that knowing what would ensue? It crossed his mind that it could’ve been because he took it too far moments before she vanished. He wasn’t dumb enough to ignore that it had been careless of him to push her like that in front of JJ. He felt a little bad about how inconsiderate it had been to do that as they reached the van. John B didn’t say another word as he furrowed his eyebrows and looked ahead.

There was an odd white tint on the windows leftover from their indiscretion. Like the kind caused by fog that dried up. The smell inside wasn’t any better. Some of it escaped with all the doors opening but it was still present when the engine switched on. Kie and Pope were scrunching up their noses as (Y/N) sunk into her seat, head resting against the window wishing she could become one with the car door. Her heart beat a little quicker as she inhaled the sweat and aroma of sex.

If anybody deciphered exactly what it was, they chose not to mention it.

But it enveloped (Y/N). Hugged her tight and flooded her with what were now sinful memories. Shutting her eyes, her fingertips skimmed across the top of her thigh timidly, the one where JJ had left a hand impression on the side. It sent chills through her body to relive the way his face dug into her. Her thighs retreating into one another as she pictured the almost black eyes watching her come apart under him. If anything served as the biggest reminder, it was the vibrator neatly tucking in JJ’s cum into her squirming body. Her hand moved upwards to pull her hair to one side and squeeze the back of her neck in an effort to calm herself. It was a mistake, a huge mistake to tilt her head back. Because the tormentor of her daydream was already burning holes into her.

JJ could see the lust flash through her eyes. Even from the backseat he could feel the heat emanating towards him. Watching her felt different now. He wasn’t getting a glimpse of her inappropriate thoughts, he was reading them. Observing how they popped up with every touch of her hand. Seeing the sweaty skin displayed by her bare shoulder firsthand and the hint of a darkening bruise that would be visible to those in the backseat if she moved her hair another inch. His fingers itched to replace hers. Going mad with the realization that she was thinking about him. It was his name she had been screaming earlier. The cause of her affliction was JJ this time. His chest was moving a little quicker now that her eyes were confirming what JJ suspected. His hand shifted downwards to tug on his shorts and fix them before his hardening dick became obvious.

“Guys I know this is technically John B’s van, but can you minimize the intimacy in the van. It reeks,” Pope waved his hand in front of his nose dramatically while requesting that one of the two in the front rolled the window down. They had almost managed to get away with it when Pope just had to go and open his mouth about it.

The curve of JJ’s lip tilted upwards as Kie delivered a detrimental blow to Pope’s arm. She was already suspecting something and with the silence in the van intriguing her further, Pope making this type of comment was just unnecessary. (Y/N) couldn’t look at JJ’s triumphant expression for another second longer though.

John B gave a very short and curt, half hearted laugh, hands tightening around the wheel. His chest felt a little tight. For the life of him, he couldn’t remember when the last time they’d had sex in the Twinkie was. It definitely wasn’t recent enough for it to linger this way and it definitely hadn’t been present earlier. Anger flared within him while trying to remain blissfully ignorant as to the obvious signs in front of him.

The eerie quietness for the rest of the ride was only made bearable by the music playing on the radio. Everyone was too distracted in their own thoughts, exchanging wary glances back and forth. Even JJ found John B scowling over at him quite often, but he simply kept his eyes on (Y/N).

The van coming to a stop awoken everyone out of their distractions. John B was the first one out, walking with purpose to get to (Y/N)’s door and reaching it before she could even lift her hand to the handle. Pope left the back first, talking about the leftover cereal from (Y/N)’s little shopping trip he just needed to eat before bed. Kie began to exit, slowing down when she noticed that JJ wasn’t moving at all from where he was sat. If she took her time, she’d be able to catch him by himself and ask him what the fuck was going on.

Her plan seemed to work pretty well considering John B gripped onto (Y/N)’s wrist to pull her inside not paying any mind to the others. The constant loop of emotions was only infuriating him more. The car ride felt hours long, giving him time to envision several scenarios of what might’ve happened. Trying to get rid of those images was proving to be more difficult. He didn’t even realize how upset he actually was until they reached the front door and (Y/N) wiggled her wrist in his grasp. “It hurts,” she was nervous, not because of him but because of the conversation that awaited.

John B eased up on her a fraction of a second after she spoke. He didn’t bother looking back though, boosting (Y/N)’s nerves. “John B,” she tried quietly as he urged them through the living room, through the hallway, and into his bedroom. She could faintly hear Pope rummaging through the cabinets before his bedroom door was opening. Her pulse quickened, the panic bubbling inside of her. But he was unwavering. Setting off an attack of anxiety-fueled nausea through her. Every rushed movement was beckoning her closer to her confession. He wasn’t letting her get a word out, shutting the door behind them. “John B,” he ignored her, urging them over to sit (Y/N) down on the bed.

“Why’d you turn it off?.. When did you turn it off? Where?.. It’s still inside you though, right?” He didn’t actually expect a response to the extensive questions he was throwing her way. He was moving too rapidly to give her time to answer them. John B didn’t even know if he actually wanted to hear what she had to say. He grabbed the hem of his shirt to rip it off. His lips were set in a fine line, overlooking the tears swelling in her eyes as his knees met the wooden floorboards.

(Y/N) made a steadfast attempt to keep herself covered but his hand boldly flung the dress up. There was both anger and lust etched in his expression. His hands grabbed onto her knees, lunging them to opposite sides with eyes glued to one place and one place only. A choked noise left her lips at the direction he was going towards.

“We need to talk,” the dreaded words every man loathed hearing. He focused in on the sight of the red lace that had a slight bump over it where the vibrator was located. The discussion she wanted to have was the last thing on his mind right now. He chose to exist in the expectation of how this night was supposed to go rather than the reality.

“I don’t want to talk right (Y/N),” he insisted. Her cheeks felt wet and palms clammy. Lungs constricting in a frightening way with a heavy chest as she stumbled through finding the courage to spit it out. All the while he moved at too rapid of a pace for her to process. Attempting to close her thighs went horribly wrong, his hand flying over to keep them from closing.

It was purely on instinct. But unbeknownst to John B, his hand covered up the bruise left by his best friend. She winced from the pain, fingers twisting around the edge of the bed. His hand moved from there to the hem of her panties, snapping them to the side.

“John B stop,” her pleading went unheard due to the ringing in his ears. His fingers latched onto the end of it and began to pull it out.

The air escaped her lungs.

Her hand flung out to swat at his hand but his brawn was no match.

“John B- JJ and I-,” despite her cry, it was too late.

It felt like everything in the planet and beyond became deadly silent.

A pin could drop and you’d hear it in Australia.

He only managed to get it out halfway before the milky white substance was seeping out from the sides.

The next millisecond was the longest John B had ever experienced. His face went pale. There was no way for her to explain herself out of this one. The sight was so distinct. It was so obviously cum that didn’t belong to him. Every stress-filled interaction crashed together inside him in a long-awaited train wreck. The way his throat would dry when JJ would go silent into a trance upon (Y/N)’s bubbly entrance. His blue eyes would get just a little brighter at her goofiness and matching banter. Her laugh would be just a smidgen higher when he did his very JJ things. She’d melt whenever he would sweetly request something of her, in a way that was supposed to have been a joke from both sides. However, the punchline to the joke seemed to be him.

In the millisecond that followed, John B lurched away from her like she had caught fire. The feeling of disgust was a harsh contrast to what he was feeling before. The woman before him was one he didn’t recognize any longer. It couldn’t be his (Y/N) sitting on the edge of his bed. No. That girl loved him. That girl would’ve never done something like this. A sound was made as the sex toy fell out the rest of the way reminding him that she indeed had. His blood boiled with rage. The edge of the panty line snapping back and startling her out of her anguish.

“John B I’m so sorry-,”

“Are you fucking serious?” He seethed watching as she jumped up from the bed, tears falling down her cheeks while struggling to catch a breath. But he pulled back from her letting his anger fuel the desire to see her vanish from his vicinity. “Don’t fucking touch me,” his voice boomed out, making her flinch away from him. She’d never seen him this furious before. It was her fault though. She deserved his reaction.

John B didn’t need to ask who was to blame because he already knew the answer to that question. Even with his name falling from her lips moments as he took it out, the clear image of a smirking JJ from the Boneyard asking if he had lost her made him lose it. His best friend was to be held just as responsible. Before he could properly process what he was doing, the door swung open with determination. The sound it made as it hit the wall echoed throughout the house alarming everyone and undoubtedly leaving a doorknob sized hole in its wake.

(Y/N) chased after him, knowing exactly who he was looking for. “No John B,” she called out after him, sprinting to catch up to him. Even though he just looked like he was walking, his speed was astonishing. His head scanned around the empty kitchen and then the living room where Kie was bouncing up from the couch with wide eyes. “What’s wrong? What’re you looking for?” she asked exasperatedly, quickly reaching the conclusion that John B was fuming. There would be steam coming out of his ears if that was actually possible.

“Where’s JJ- I’m gonna kill him,” John B stated without hesitation as the toilet flushed from down the hallway. Before John B could get to it, (Y/N)’s palms were pushing back at his rock hard chest, muscles tight from rage.

“John B stop- this is my fault. It’s mine, nobody else’s but mine,” (Y/N) could barely keep in the sob as John B reacted quickly, moving away from her once again. His eyes were dark and empty, face completely emotionless except for the red hot anger. The sight of him becoming physically ill from her touch shattered her into pieces. Her body was shaking. She knew this is what would happen but nothing could’ve actually prepared her for it. Nobody warned her about what it would feel like to watch the love someone has for you drain from their face.

“I said don’t fucking touch me. Why are you even here, huh? Thought it would be fun to slum your way through Pogues?” John B’s hurled accusation was meant to hurt, meant to be offensive. He wanted her to really feel the same pain he was. He thought one day she might leave him for his best friend. Had pretended like it was his mind playing tricks on him. Never in a million years did he think this would happen. He was unable to breathe properly as he stared intently towards the opening bathroom door. He stretched his neck out to see who it was, only relaxing it back when Pope emerged from the bathroom. “What’s going on?” he gazed around at everyone having heard the door and shouting from where he was, eyes eventually honing in on the state (Y/N) was in.

John B laughed with no humor behind it and a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll tell you what’s going on. JJ fucked my slut of a girlfriend. My best friend fucking creampied her,” his head shook in disbelief, “He fucked her in the van while we were all looking for her,” John B’s voice was laced with venom watching as she curled in on herself without caring about how she felt. He put two and two together easily. The way she recoiled at the accusation only confirmed it, setting him off further as he took a step forward. “He did didn’t he? You opened your legs for him in the fucking Twinkie.” This was different from when he called her dirty names in the safety behind closed doors. He meant these humiliating words. Her crying was the only thing heard in the momentary silence. (Y/N) covered her chest with her arms as if to protect the imaginary physical wound that he inflicted. “Woah dude- wait, you’ve gotta chill out,” Pope moved with caution between him and (Y/N), holding his hand out to stop John B from moving any further. Not because he’d do anything, because the situation was getting too heated. He was hearing a bit too much information than needed, but if any of it was true he knew John B was on a unstoppable war path.

“Where’s JJ?” He was steady in his pursuit, unbothered by his friend who was trying to settle the situation at hand. “Jesus- He left! I talked to him outside and he left, alright?!” Kie yelled out at him, pulling his attention to the girl. “You’ve gotta calm down. Fighting him and hurting her isn’t gonna solve anything,” Kie reasoned in a slightly lower volume, but nonetheless still loud, while laying an attentive hand on his shoulder. Usually it was (Y/N) doing this. Asking him to cool off without speaking, just looking. It was a harsh reality to accept that she wasn’t. The disappointment to find out JJ hadn’t even made it past the front door was clear in the way his hand jerked. He swirled around on his feet to face (Y/N) again, looking past Pope.

“Get out.”

“John B, please let me talk to you.” Her voice was horse from all the crying. It was without a doubt asking for too much to have a civil conversation with John B right now. But her heart was squeezing in her chest and she couldn’t bare the thought of leaving things like this. Her mind struggled to find any words that would bring him peace. There was probably none that would. She had tried to avoid this… hadn’t she? Didn’t she keep asking him to stop? Or couldn’t she have just pulled away from his hold? The fact that was even a question in her mind made her chest swell with oncoming tears.

John B stiffened up taking another step forward that landed Pope’s hand onto his chest this time. “(Y/N) get the fuck out!” The conviction in his voice made her bottom lip quiver. Kie was angry at her but it was also difficult to watch (Y/N) break down like this. Since she’d joined them, they’d been inseparable. It was nice of course to have all the boys around but there was things she could talk to (Y/N) about that she couldn’t with them. A sense of trust and friendship that had formed during girl talk. She knew there was no excuse for her friends actions, but it was still difficult to watch the fallout unfold. “I’ll take her home and then I’ll be right back,” Kie offered as she went to the couch searching for her keys figuring that would be a way she could help them both. “Kie get her out of here right fucking now,” John B’s nostrils flared not having the capacity to continue looking at (Y/N).

“She’s going man, she’s going. Let’s just go outside,” Pope tried leading him out the back while Kie smacked a pillow in frustration, wondering where she set her keys down before they left.

But it was all too much for (Y/N).

The pure disdain from John B was appropriate. The way they were referring to her in third person now, as if she’d never been a Pogue, was also fitting but it all pierced her heart. She’d lost him and the rest of her true family over what? A hook-up? Another notch on JJ’s belt? She didn’t even have a clue.

“Don’t worry,” (Y/N) grabbed her phone making her way to the door as Kie moved to stop her, “I’ll get home. Just stay with him.”

Kie called out for her in an effort to get her to rethink and wait just a few more minutes for her. But either she didn’t hear it or she chose not to.

The way the screen door slammed behind her seemed to signify the end to a lot more than what she could yet imagine or even handle.

Her legs were wobbly as she made her way down the beaten path. It took her a few minutes to gather her strength before she was able to walk away from the house without tripping over nothing. The adrenaline racing from the intensity of the fight urged her legs to move faster. She couldn’t help but punish herself by reliving every second of it. The look on John B’s face when he removed the toy made her insides churn. The image would be scarred into her memory. It seemed like every other special, beautiful moment they shared was erased from existence. She wanted to turn back time, find a million different ways to come clean that didn’t include a stupid fucking vibrator. Without even noticing, her sprint gradually tripled in speed until it turned into full fledged running and weeping down his neighborhood. A car past her by at some point but she didn’t even see it through the haze of her tears.

With time passing by faster than she noticed, she felt her chest slowing to a calmer state and cheeks drying. It was only then, when every heightened sense took an undeserved respite, that her speed lowered. Things were more visible now that it felt like she had cried every drop she physically could. It only felt like minutes in the middle of her attack, but she’d managed to make it quite a distance. The convenience store John B normally drove to when he picked up some late night cravings during her periods came into view and almost made her collapse in the process. Walking to her house from here would most likely take the whole night and (Y/N) probably could make it if she was feeling extra ballsy. But as she eyed the dimly lit street ahead and the little twenty-four hour mini-mart that threatened the shaky stability she had found, she knew tonight was not that night.

Her phone screen lit up her face, swiping up to open the device when it recognized her. (Y/N) let out a trembling breath as she made her way to her Uber app, ordering one to her current location so that she could be dropped off in Figure Eight. Once it was charged to the card her dad had opened for her, she crossed her arms over her chest. Her dad really only checked her account to re-up her money so there wasn’t a high chance of him questioning her on a late night Uber drive when she was supposed to be sleeping over at Kie’s, but even if he did see it, the argument that would ensue seemed vastly unimportant compared to everything else.

A wave of emotions risked another waterfall. In contrary to her previous belief, apparently she might never stop crying. Waiting there for the driver, all she could think about was John B. The coldness he aimed her way. He had meant every single belittling word and (Y/N) felt like it was well-deserved. She wanted to blame JJ. It would be so easy to do it considering the predicament she had been in when he followed after her. One that he had been very well aware of.

But as much as she wanted to do that, the truth was she wanted JJ in that moment. Not John B, but JJ. The look in his blue eyes when they were sitting in front of the bonfire had ignited a buried desire for him. There was actually way too many instances where she had craved JJ in the way she had him tonight. Odd moments where they were left alone for one reason or another, creating tension amongst themselves with inappropriate thoughts and stolen glances of the other. It was really her fault for not admitting it to herself sooner. All of this could’ve been avoided if she had stopped lying to herself.

The honk of the horn brought her back from her zoned out state. (Y/N) made her way into the vehicle that matched the one in the app, giving the man a weak smile. He asked her something, but her brain didn’t make sense of it. She curled up into the door similar to the way she had in the van earlier, choosing to get lost in the palm trees rather than hold a meaningless conversation with someone she’d never meet again. The silence he was met with was a clear indication that she wanted to opt out of the friendly chatter and arrive at her destination.

The driver picked up the hint, starting his drive to the address given without another hitch. Even blessing her with the grace of ignoring the faint weeping in the backseat. She was torn up inside, grieving the loss of her boyfriend while also struggling with whether she actually regretted it or not. Saying she did would just be a distasteful lie. Confronting John B over this had sent her headfirst into the veracity of her feelings.

The rest of the drive felt empty. There wasn’t a living soul out when they rode down her street. Her own house had all the lights off, it gave off an eerie looking vibe at this time of night. The driver came to a stop at her gate, letting her get off there so she could enter through the gate door next to the car entrance. Her mumbled thank you was politely acknowledged with a small wave and head bow before she exited.

The walk from the warm car through the freezing temperature of the night to the coziness of her bedroom was exhausting in her numb state. She was beyond glad no one was awake because she didn’t have the energy to deal with her dad who would pester her with questions. Or Wheezie who would try to get all up in her business for nothing other than the sake of living up to the stereotype of nosy little sisters. Rose would just put on her motherly act that seemed to bother her too much to play well so it would just end up sucking more energy from (Y/N).

And Rafe- well Rafe might be the only one that could cross her path. He wouldn’t care enough to even notice her presence. But he was most likely still at the Boneyard with the other Kooks anyways inhaling too much coke.

A relaxing bath sounded perfect right now, with some bubbles and candles. She could play one of her mellow playlists in the background. Something relaxing, not sad, because she’d be right back where she started. She didn’t know if she’d actually retrieve the candles from the second floor linen closet or even have the energy to search for her speaker but at least the bubbles she could reach from inside the bathtub. The rest she could leave up to her imagination.

Her feet dragged all the way up to the third floor, past the expensive paintings and family portraits, and to her bedroom. All of the lights in the hallway made it hard for her to see in the pitch black of her bedroom. (Y/N) preferred it that way anyways. Her back rested against the door once it shut, one hand on the doorknob still feeling like she couldn’t get a decent amount of oxygen into her lungs. Her head lifted just to bang back on the door delivering a sting to the back of her head that didn’t actually quell the emotional pain.

She was about to go into her bathroom when she saw the infamous red baseball cap on the grey chair, lined with silver around the edges, that sat in front of the window. The moonlight pouring in from the window was shining down on it like a spotlight, alerting her to the presence of the boy that seemed to be everywhere lately.

The fact that it was in such perfect view made her tilt her head slightly, not looking away from it. It was almost like he had made sure to leave it in sight so that they could bypass the obvious jump scare that would’ve occurred otherwise. Her back stood a little straighter, heart caving just the tiniest bit at the gesture.

And that’s exactly why JJ had done it. Her bloodshot eyes and lifeless expression were proof he’d been right in doing so. He had wanted to be there for her when they got out of the van, gut still twisting with the way John B had grabbed onto (Y/N). But he was aware now that he was just a coward. With no clue as to how to make it up to her. After the conversation with Kie, he’d gotten on his bike and rode away. He was supposed to go home, face Luke’s wrath about his week long disappearance since the Chateau would obviously be off limits for the foreseeable future. But the pull he felt was strong, as powerful as gravity.

That’s how JJ had ended up pacing on the other side of the wall that separated Ward Cameron and the rest of his Kook family from the outside world. He was drawn to a place he’d never stepped foot in. He’d only gotten as far as the driveway the one time he road with John B to surprise (Y/N) and pick her up for a rowdy night. They had watched her slip out of her bedroom window and proceed to climb down the enormous tree next to the roof. He’d been enamored by her that night like he was all the time, thrown off by her spontaneity. Every corner JJ turned, he found another reason to fall for this girl. It hadn’t taken him long to decide to hop it once the image of her pretty face remained too long in his imagination. The possibility that she might be a little… hostile about his intrusion didn’t dissuade him.

He’d already been there for a long time, enough to wonder if he’d made the right decision in coming. He started off with sitting down on the same seat the hat was resting on before moving towards the edge of the bed. When time kept passing, he laid down on the comfortable king sized mattress. Then he discarded his articles of clothing until he was in his boxers, not wanting to dirty the comforter. He knows she’d wave off the silliness in that but he didn’t want to taint the pristine state of her bedroom. The ridiculous amount of pillows around his body tempted him into a deep slumber but the concern at how late it was getting and her not arriving put a hold on that. JJ was even getting close to calling Kie when the door had finally opened.

The sight of her hitting her head tugged at the strings of his heart. He was appalled with himself. Feeling unworthy of even being here knowing that he had left her to handle the fallout on her own. No amount of persuading from Kie to give John B a couple of days should of been enough to stop him from greeting her at the door with his outstretched arms when she walked out. But in all honesty, it was his own decision to put off the confrontation with John B and reencounter with (Y/N) after such a heavy revelation. He wouldn’t even blame her if she never wanted to see him again.

But when her shoulders slouched as she turned towards the bed and her weary eyes acclimated to the darkness, JJ didn’t see an ounce of malice hidden in them.

“You know breaking and entering is an arrest-able offense?”

She sounded defeated as her arms found sanctuary in the slot of her back between the door. JJ sat up slightly, resting his back against the cushioned headrest. The fanciest thing he’s probably ever laid on. He let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding in. JJ had expected to be yelled at, maybe thrown an object or two, then kicked out the window or through the door depending on her generosity. Instead of accusations or bitterness, he was met with a thinly veiled playful threat. And that was a million times better than being on her bad side.

“Call the cops on me then.” It was just as much to test out the waters as it was to avoid the topic at hand. It was so painfully obvious to him that things had gone considerably worse than JJ expected when (Y/N) was choosing to engage in some light-hearted banter before he could even bring it up. Which she pretended to contemplate for a moment from where she stayed put against the door. She knew that what he said wasn’t by any means considered lewd language but just because it was JJ and JJ’s voice saying it while fully displaying his six pack under the gleam of the moonlight, her mind went a little off track.

“I knew I probably couldn’t crash at the Chateau and home just..” he didn’t have to continue it. (Y/N) had bought a full sized First Aid kit to keep on hand for whenever JJ would need to be patched up. It was safely stashed away in the bathroom closet at JB’s so that she could tend to his wounds.

(Y/N) pursed her lips fully aware that she hadn’t actually been planning on kicking him out but just the fact that his only option was going to Luke’s if she did left her with a queasy stomach. They watched one another in silence, JJ hanging on to the anticipation of waiting for her reply. When his fingers ran through his hair in an attempt to ease the stress, (Y/N) finally pushed off from the door.

“The left side of the bed is mine,” her eyes flickered to the empty right side and JJ got the hint, “I will be building a Wall of China that you cannot cross. Lock the bathroom door when you use it. The rest of the house is off limits because my dad might have a heart attack if he sees you and Wheezie’s a snitch or a blackmailer depending on her mood and what day of the week it is,” with a lock of the door, she was making her way towards the front of the bed, “Rafe would just be unpleasant to run into, and this is the most important rule so listen very closely Maybank.. If you turn my fan off, I will make sure you suffer,” bringing attention to the hum of the fan that JJ remembered had indeed been turned on this whole time.

A small amused smile played on JJ’s lips at the list of rules she gave him. He was so engrossed in her every move, still finding her beautiful even in the midst of chaos. It was easier to play this game of pretend, like nothing had happened. As if his presence in her home was somewhat normal. It certainly felt more normal than it should. “Anything else warden?” JJ teased as he scooted over on the bed. (Y/N) rolled her eyes as she came around the corner to lay her phone on the nightstand.

“I’m gonna take a bath so… leave me alone,” she smiled unenthusiastically hooking the phone up to her charger that was awaiting and keeping a cool demeanor. It was becoming increasingly harder to ignore his playful mood, JJ held an unmatched power to distract her from the reality of the situation.

“A bath, huh?”

“Yes a bath.”

“I think you should go to bed like that.”

(Y/N) paused, all too familiar with what it felt like to have his eyes digging into her by now. She knew what he was insinuating, that she should lay down with her cum soaked panties. She didn’t move her gaze away from the nightstand, legs shifting as she felt the wave of heat washing over her. She couldn’t help but curse herself internally, mad at herself for having no control over her reactions.

“I think a bath is what I need.”

“I think sleeping would be much better.”

“I think I’m right.”

“I think you’re wrong.”

Air puffed out from her lips as she turned to face him, meeting his eyes like she had expected to. He was so annoying that (Y/N) could smother him in his sleep with one of her pillows. But the mischief in his eyes was beckoning her over. Seeing as he was unwilling to back down, she figured she could wait until he fell asleep to wash off the remainder of tonight. There was no way to get past JJ when he got this stubborn, not a single word would persuade him otherwise and she knew it.

JJ smiled jubilantly when she puffed up pillows in the middle of the bed to separate them instead of continuing the back and forth. He wouldn’t deny he was mostly eager to have her close again, especially seeing as she was actually letting him stay. Every second next to her felt counted, like his minutes were almost up and he had to soak in every detail. He slid down in the bed again while she moved to the dresser, pulling out a plain, worn out t-shirt. His eyes were on her every move, being able to observe her more than he was normally able to.

(Y/N) wanted to grab a pair of pajamas, or at least pajama shorts since JJ would be sleeping over. But if there was one thing she despised, it was wearing anything other than a simple raggedy t-shirt and panties to bed. She could grab a pair of pajama shorts but she knew if he ended up staying for anything longer than a couple days she’d eventually give in to her irritating body heat and remove them. And considering the fact that JJ had already had the privilege of getting a very clear picture of her lower half naked, there was nothing left to hide.

Still though, as she approached the bed, she twirled her fingers in a circle. Just because she’d be laying down in underwear didn’t mean he needed to see her change.

“Really?” JJ asked like it was stupid to even make him turn around. His eyes moved to her chest then, becoming all too aware of the fact that he hadn’t gotten the chance to see her properly when he bent her over in the Twinkie.

“Seriously.” She didn’t move an inch until JJ, very begrudgingly might she add, faced away from her. Her hand moved to the back of her neck once she was sure that JJ couldn’t see her, undoing the straps with a quick pull. Once the dress was off her body, (Y/N) slipped on the t-shirt. She hadn’t bothered to ruin a fresh pair of panties when she knew she’d be escaping to bathe as soon as he was snoring at her side.

The bed dipped next to him when (Y/N) laid down, but he couldn’t catch a single glimpse of her past the wall of pillows. JJ sighed, glancing upwards at the glow in the dark stars that littered the ceiling. They were cute. It felt like he was getting an insight to her private life. One that he wanted to be a part of. The sleep that had fought him earlier was nowhere to be found. Not when he was in (Y/N)’s house. In her perfectly decorated room. Incapable of falling asleep in her comfy bed with a mountain of pillows when she was laying only a couple of feet from him, with a t-shirt on and his cum inside her.

“Would you stop huffing and puffing over there and just sleep already?” (Y/N) would be lying if she said that was the only thing keeping her up. She had been worried that once her head hit the pillows she would be too exhausted to stay up for a bath. Yet now that she was actually here, she couldn’t stop tossing and turning. The air felt thick enough to the point that she’d even be willing to smoke a blunt to relax. But the weed wouldn’t extinguish this tension, it would probably only heighten it.

“My bad. You’ve just got a stupid amount of pillows here and I can’t seem to catch my breath,” he shrugged his shoulders to himself, tilting back to the pesky wall. JJ found warmth under the covers but craved to get it from her body instead. He knew it was a bad idea but the temptation kept unwinding and growing. The opportunity was there, just how it had been earlier. An idea crept into his mind as he heard her shuffle around. (Y/N) rolled her eyes at the comment, landing on her side that wasn’t in his direction. “And? They’re comfortable,” she explained, even though she really didn’t have to. She bent her elbow to place it under the pillow trying to find the perfect spot to relax in although it seemed to be impossible to accomplish.

JJ’s arm reached out to play with one of tags on the pillow, running it between his fingers. “It’s suffocating is what it is. And there can’t be anything comfortable about living in the North Pole,” referring to the fan hitting them directly at full blast. JJ didn’t actually mind it, he was just enjoying the teasing that was always awarded with some form of response. His fingers started tugging on the tag, focused on dismantling the first obstacle and allowing her hair to become visible.

“Well-,” (Y/N)’s witty response was halted by the small noise that suspiciously sounded like her barrier was being broken through. Her fingers lazily played with the satin sheets acting like she was unaffected. She knew exactly what he wanted but refused to give in. “I’ll make sure to remind them to tidy up your five star room in prison if you keep complaining.”

JJ chuckled, removing the second pillow with more ease now that the one above it had been tossed behind him. Her backside was in sight now, hair loose and sprawled messily above the white of her bedsheets. The t-shirt had settled into the dip of her hips, making his tongue poke out to wet his bottom lip. There was something different about being here. Something that was charging his body with electricity. “You’d never turn me in.”

“It’s never too late,” (Y/N) breathed out in a hurry as the ruffling behind her increased. Her pulse jumped anticipating JJ’s next move. It was bewildering how much he disrupted her system on a cellular level. He hadn’t even touched her and she was finding it hard to inhale normally knowing that he’d be upon her soon. It should’ve been easy to reach behind her and chastise him for breaking her rules not even 20 minutes in, but it was actually aggravatingly challenging to do so.

“You want me to-,” suddenly, without warning, his defined chest was pressing into her back, evoking a loud hitch in her breath, “grab your phone for you to call?” JJ’s fingers crawled onto the tip of her curve, softly dipping a pointer finger under the lacy fabric. Her skin felt so soft and pliant. Her body quivered under him, only invigorating him. JJ’s lowered voice was much closer to her making her ankles lock together tightly. He was attempting to distract her with his words, very well knowing that she’d never be capable of such a thing.

“JJ you can’t do that,” she completely disregarded the question now, her entire mind faltering from the way his solid chest felt against her back. Despite her protest, she didn’t lift a feather to stop him. Not even her voice was convincing. Her own heart was beating rapidly against her rib cage. They had already done this dance earlier and it had led to a huge fallout. Possibly irreparable damage. Except he was some sort of magician, that made her lose her sanity with the flick of a wand. There was no mistaking the way she got lost in the waves of blue in his eyes on the ride back to the Chateau. She had almost gotten on her knees right then and there with no care on Earth for those around them.

JJ caught on to the affect he had on her like the true devil he was. “Why?” His body flawlessly molded into the crook of her back like he’s always belonged there. Hand taking its time moving around the arch of her hip and downward to knead into the flesh in an achingly cruel way that had her head spinning. A pitiful whine was held back so that it wouldn’t fuel the desire swirling between them. But it was hard to do so when he was consuming her senses. His masculine smell bear-hugging her, his touch sending shivers down her spine.

“Because- Because John-,”

“John B isn’t here (Y/N),” JJ knew that was his best friend, but damn if he heard John B’s name one more time, “he’s already mad. What’s a second time gonna hurt?” His hand proceeded to move upwards, making a straight line up the side of her body and inching her shirt off along with it. She didn’t think her heart could palpate with anymore vigor than it was. (Y/N) was struggling to keep up the façade, JJ had already slithered his way past her pillow barrier and was doing the same to the imaginary one surrounding her. She must’ve fully warped under his spell because something logical coming from JJ couldn’t be right. “Then stop because it’s wrong,” her voice was higher pitched, waiting for the arrival of JJ’s unforgiving fingers on her breasts.

But JJ was villainous. Intent on unraveling her. He only managed to get one of her breasts to pop out, the other half of her chest still covered while his hand lifted up slightly so only the pad of his finger was tracing the outline of her side boob. There was a familiar neediness spreading inside that plagued her. She went from wanting to off him to reeling from his teasing. He refused to give in to her because she was obviously yearning for him in a similar fashion. And he’d make her admit it. Make her beg for it as many times as he pleased. “That’s not how this game works Princess,” he tsked into the space between her neck and her ear, fanning his hot breath down her heaving cleavage.

His tone was disapproving, like she should know better than that now. “The only way I’m stopping (Y/N), is if you tell me to. Tell me it would’ve made no difference which one of us found you first. Tell me right now you aren’t soaking between your legs.” JJ needed to hear it almost as much as he needed oxygen to survive. If she didn’t want him to abandon whatever was erupting between them, she needed to say it. If she didn’t want him in the same way he desperately needed, he’d get dressed, leave, and stay far away from her and John B. But he doesn’t know if he’d be able to handle that form of banishment from her life.

Luckily for him, her resolve weakened with the swipe of his tongue against her earlobe and the hidden fear making its way into his voice. She pushed the side of her face into the fluffiness of her pillow in a last ditch effort to remain passive while her body went headfirst into the sinful pleasure, pressing her bottom into his hardening length. Her breathing stuttered hearing the deep groan it illicited from him. It was instant relief for the both of them, her pussy clenching at the feel of his erection digging into her. JJ couldn’t explain how hot it was to see her fight her own bodily desire for him. “I can’t tell you that,” she barely got out. The sensual touches and intentional build up had her thighs sliding together. Breathing around him was something her body forgot how to do.

JJ’s forehead fell onto her shoulder, matching her heavy breaths now that she was confirming what he so badly wanted to hear. He grasped her exposed tit, tugging until her back was arching along with it. Incapable of refraining himself with her submitting to him. “JJ,” she gasped out feeling a pull on the back of her shirt where it was stuck under her side. “Tell me what you need then,” he commanded in the very same tone from earlier that made her vision hazy and brain foggy.

“I need you J,” her body relinquished control with a small whine, obeying his orders by lifting up slightly from the bed to remove the t-shirt. She moved to face him, wanting nothing more than to run her fingers over the surface of his toned physique, but JJ used the grip on her breast to return her to her previous position. They weren’t in a rush this time. There was no boyfriend expecting her to return. No one to answer to in the dead of night. JJ had the advantage of time and he didn’t want to waste the opportunity.

His crotch rutting into her once in tandem with the flick of his finger over her nipple caused her mouth to drop open and a shudder to overtake her. “That’s how much I need you (Y/N),” he moaned, making her keen while his teeth grazed her shoulder blade. Every bit of her was intoxicating, like an addicting drug he was handing over his willpower to. The temptation was too much to handle. His fingers finally skimmed to the top of her panties, sliding under the thin material with ease and urgency. (Y/N) tilted her knee upwards so that he had more space at his disposal, fully letting herself succumb to JJ.

The second his hand connected with her slick mound her long eyelashes fluttered, a deep groan paving its way out. His index and middle finger slid around her clit, putting pressure on it by pressing into the sides. His semen mixing with her arousal allowed JJ to glide his fingers up and down with ease. “Oh f-fuck,” she sputtered out arm hastily wrapping around his. JJ was more vocal this time, moaning again from the feel of her sodden pussy. It urged him to grind up against her again finding relief in the contour of her body.

JJ’s free arm snuck it’s way under her neck, curving enough to be able to reach her hardened nipple. He twisted and squeezed relentlessly until he heard her cry out from the stimulation. His lips laid open mouthed kisses around her shoulders, sucking slightly with every pause. JJ didn’t falter though, he pulled on her nipple while adding extra pressure to her clit as he continued to stroke his fingers through her velvety folds. Her strangled moans were making his hard on throb from how wrecked she already sounded. (Y/N) couldn’t put together a single thought in her head, only feel the pleasure exploding inside her like fireworks.

“Fuck you feel so good, dripping again for me. Still leaking my cum,” JJ could no longer hold back as he sunk his teeth into the same spot of her upper body that he had been abusing, biting down until there was a metallic flavor soothing his tastebuds. His tongue licked up the wound, a carnal instinct forcing him to do something he never had even imagined would turn him on. However, the action sent him onto cloud nine, a high like no other. A groan vibrating against the broken skin.

Never had somebody bit her before and yet there was an embarrassing amount of slickness added to the mess between her legs. Her mouth gaped, opening with a high pitched, “Ah”. His muscles flexed under her grip as his fingers moved with more urgency feeling the result of what his action did to her. He couldn’t explain the feeling bursting inside his chest at the fact that she glowed under his barbaric behavior. (Y/N)’s head tilted to the side where JJ met her cheek with his nose. Face contorted from the waves of pain jolting through her that were mixing in with the ones of pleasure crashing into her mercilessly.

Her legs intertwined with his, tightening around his calves in order to receive some sort of grounding through the ferocity of his actions. “You like that? Like when I use my fingers to make you feel good?” JJ purred through hooded blue eyes watching her bottom lip tremble from the pleasure. He was vicious in his assaults, having to stop her thighs from shutting with a knee into the crease of her ass. As much as he wanted to shove his fingers into her hungry cunt, he wanted to make her fall apart by just playing with the sensitive nub. “Yes, love it J, I-,” her mouth paused while open, hips jutting out as JJ quickened his pace. She wanted to tell him she wouldn’t last long but he wasn’t letting her breathe.

“Is this what you were imagining in the van? My fingers inside of you, my tongue licking every inch of your pussy?” JJ murmured making her back straighten out and hearing her wheeze when he switched to a circular motion and back. Her previous orgasms had already been so intense that she was at risk of slipping away in the ecstasy. Her toes curled around the edge of the bedsheet panting into the air. (Y/N) was fully immersed in the vehement drag of his fingers and the hot puffs of air that electrified her skin. “Stay here f’me,” it was JJ’s dominating tone mixing with one of uneasiness that lulled her out of the fog, “that’s it pretty girl. Answer my question.”

He coerced a response out of her before she could drift away from him. JJ’s fingers switching to figure eight motions as she arched her back with a particularly loud yelp of his name then returning to the previous movement before she had time to adjust. Watching her so worked up had his cock aching to find its way back into her. His precum was forming a new stain in his boxers from the intensity of their hushed words and the symphony of her fluctuating breaths and resounding moans. He wanted to sheathe himself with her cunt until she become too stupid to speak almost as much as he enjoyed watching her surrender her satisfaction to him. “All I.. All I could think about was you.”

“Fuck,” JJ cracked, steadily building up the momentum so that he was rubbing his clothed dick against her. “Bet you would’ve let me rail you in front of them- let me clean your soaked pussy and then fuck your throat dry,” he grunted finding the release he was desperate for as he slid in the slit of her ass. The sensation flooded every fiber of her being, words bringing out her kinks as confirmed by the tightening of her pussy around him. “Yes,” she admitted with watering eyes. JJ’s control was slipping, acting like a teenage boy with raging hormones as he dry humped her desperately spurred on by her confession. She was open just the perfect amount for his hard tip to probe against her tight back entrance. The fabric of the boxers between them being the only thing stopping him. Her eyes were the only thing that moved to find his darkened ones in a wary haste. By the quick lock of their gaze, her wide eyes told JJ those were uncharted waters. “I’m gonna destroy your ass next.”

All it took was the exquisite combination of an adjustment of his finger and a brush of his nose against her cheek. The lively movements of his rutting alongside the lewd promise of exploring more of her body. Another meaningful jab at her bundle of nerves and she was seeing white hot fury littered with black specks behind her eyes. “Holy fuck JJ,” she panted with a whine, losing any thought process in the climax that made her nerve endings burst. The unexpected strength she had to close her legs forced JJ’s knee from its place but his fingers didn’t lose the relentless pace. She rode out her high with sharp breathing, crying his name out through the ripples of her orgasm. Her entire body squirming during his softening pace to ease her back.

He issued an uncanny amount of praises into her ear that she was only able to hear the end of. Gulping air in chunks to feed her lungs. JJ was absolutely gone for her, his insides doing cartwheels at the sound of his name during her apex. The way her face twisted, body turning into a writhing mess, it was all thanks to his doing. (Y/N) didn’t notice him all-consumed by her, absorbing every ounce of her undoing. Her hand that wasn’t wrapped in his arm, reached over to grip his hair that had sweaty ends matted to his forehead. “Doing so. fucking. well. f’me, such a good girl,” he praised with repeated eskimo kisses to her cheek. The neglected emotions seeping out through the affectionate action were far too much to handle in the daze. She wanted to scream from the overpowering feeling.

JJ slowed his movements to give her a moment to calm down. His lips took advantage of her tilted head to curve around her jawline and press gentle kisses that made seemingly soft impressions on her skin. He had initially intended on making this an entire night thing, but it has been almost an entire night. His greediness couldn’t ignore that she almost rode off into a space he couldn’t reach her at. And that his cock was in dire risk of ceasing to exist.

When her eyes became more focused and face met his, their heads tilted to clash together. Any instructions JJ had for her became mute as she read his mind and flipped her body over without breaking the kiss. A lip-numbing, teeth clashing with need, tongue fighting kiss that took away any breath she had managed to catch. It recharged her drained energy to full power.

His hand moved to brutally squeeze at her other boob. Their bodies pushing one another back with every frenzied attempt to be closer. His head would force her to bend her neck backwards as he lifted up into her before she was leaning forward and putting him in the same position. Retreating only to catch a second of air before going back to the same. It was in the middle of the disorder that JJ was able to dislodge his boxers from his body. (Y/N) maneuvered out of the last piece of clothing that was now being unjustly held accountable for the fact that she just couldn’t get close enough. He flipped her onto her back, bleeding into the slot between her legs that he would swear was made for him.

JJ propped up onto his elbows to break the kiss, lungs in need of taking in air. She moved to chase him with her lips but he rose up higher making her head plop back down. (Y/N) let out a disgruntled noise, about to break out into hives if he didn’t get inside her. Her body was sore, close to surpassing her limit but she wanted to feel full of him. Wanted to him to use her to reach levels of pleasure that he hadn’t experienced yet. But his eyes did a soft lulling once over of her naked body, halting her pleas. Months of playful prodding at the other, lingering glances, and shyly stealing innocent touches at random times had all progressed to this day. To the moment that he could take in all of her, in every way possible.

Then he repeated it. Analyzing. Memorizing. Mulling over every detail that might seem insignificant to someone else but it was everything to him.

Now that he was above her, the only thing he was capable of doing was concentrate on every detail of her body. The curvature of her perky boobs, the dampness pooling at her core, the glossy look in her eyes. His hand moved flat down her stomach, leaving a trail of tingles behind. The way she let her body be conquered by his touch left him speechless. After spending what felt like a lifetime living in the shadow of her presence, his chest was close to caving in under the reciprocation of his emotions. “You’re gorgeous,” he spoke in disbelief that someone like her would ever let someone like him taint her innocence, but she was anything except that. (Y/N) was his sweet, filthy girl. His thumb grazed against her pelvic bone before spreading her legs onto the surface of the bed to look further down. He caught sight of her pluckered nub poking past her folds, entire vagina slippery with the arousal and cum that was everywhere from the stained sheets to her inner thighs. JJ had to physically hold back a guttural noise stopping himself before he leaned down and stuffed his entire face into her.

She gnawed on her reddened bottom lip, overwhelmed with the admiration and desire in his eyes. “J,” she pleaded softly, close to liquefying under the fortitude of his stare. It was only JJ that had her mewling, entrapping her in a bubble of fantasies and a four letter word dangerously close to spilling from her lips with just a glance. The intensity of the raw emotion was close to suffocating her. (Y/N) couldn’t take it any longer, lifting her bottom from the bed to grab his attention attempting to sway him back to the task at hand. The pressing of his knuckles on her bruised inner thigh let her know it worked. His eyes seemed to refocus on her glistening center. JJ’s hand wrapped around the hilt of his length, pumping his length over her pelvic bone. “Look at that baby- that’s how deep I’m gonna be,” he taunted, the end of solid member close to her belly button. Before she had time to react, he was swiping up her vagina to collect his cum and her juices on his head before smearing it with a downward swipe and strangled, “fuck.”

“Oh,” (Y/N)’s shaky voice spoke over his, an iron grip forming on the bed sheets at her sides. Her back arched as a breathless moan escaped her when he didn’t stop. Every swipe just barely teased her with the tip sliding past her folds, giving her a minuscule taste only to move away. Her hips moved to meet his but he didn’t show mercy. “So fucking messy. Look so pretty when you’re so dirty,” the corner of his lip tugged up, relishing in her undoing. Inflicting as much torture as he had felt from not being able to just grab her when he wanted to. The sloshing sound was so fowl, so lewd and vicious that it was the only thing they could hear. “Please JJ, need your cock. Need it, I need it so bad, please-.”

“Do you? Never knew you were such a cockslut (Y/N),” he cut her off, one particular swipe against her bundle of nerves tightened the muscles in her belly. The unappeasable JJ was back, the one that knew what spots to hit inside of her. Even though he was close to cracking as evident by the way his pace lapsed, he still kept himself in check to drive her mad. And it worked. It sent her into a rant of incomprehensible pleas. (Y/N) was teary-eyed, turning into a puddle under his attack. JJ’s dirtiness had her leaking, mind fuzzy in an unexplainable way. She wanted nothing more than to please him again. (Y/N) doesn’t think she’s ever felt like this before. Like she would cry and beg and offer anything she could to get JJ’s cock inside of her.

“So fucking greedy for more even though I fucked you already. Guess I didn’t do a good enough job, huh? Should I just stop then?” JJ taunted her in a coo that made her shake her head frantically. If he hadn’t already been rock hard, the desperation in her eyes would’ve done the job in a matter of seconds. “Yes- wait… no- JJ,” (Y/N) whined unable to put the words together. She wanted to say he was crazy. That of course he’d done a fucking phenomenal job. That she feels floaty and would wail if he stopped right now. There was just no way she could use so many words at once. That stupid smirk on his face proved he was just trying to be a complete menace right now. “Just a dumb Princess for me now,” he sounded like he’d won a prize, like he was awarded some major accomplishment.

JJ laid his body over hers like a blanket, shielding every part of it and effortlessly snuffing out her panic. His composure was rapidly deteriorating, matching her need for their bodies to fuse together. His tip slipped between her puffy folds, hearing her stutter. “There?” JJ’s hot breath tingled her lips at the new proximity. (Y/N) nodded, hands suddenly coming to life from next to her to feel over his honey tinted pecks. “There,” that was definitely a word she could formulate as he paused to capture her eyes. The rest of the world stilled around them.

JJ buried himself past her resistance, stretching her open until the front of his thighs connected with the inside of hers and ripped a groan out of himself. He was convinced the ethereal feeling of her walls confining him was the same one people felt upon arriving to heaven. Before he could even move, her ankles met above his butt. She was a mess of pleas and whimpers, only trying to get JJ deeper into her as if his head wasn’t already pushing against her cervix and turning her into mush. He moaned against her lips, both touching but wide open against the other from the intensity. She was so wet and easy to slide slip into without prep. Still tight and constricting around him even after their encounter. No matter how hard it was to do, JJ’s blue swirls prompted her to keep her eyes open. He refused to look away as his hips pulled away gradually only to thrust forward again. And then again.

“Fuck,” JJ grunted, this time setting a slower yet unimaginably rough pace. He rocked into her with every ounce of strength he had left. Her fingernails found refuge in the indent between his collarbone and shoulder, digging in so harshly there’d be crescent moon impressions left over. While his found refuge in the roots of her hair, tangling into the long wavy strands. JJ used that grip to strengthen his thrusts. He could see it in her fragile features, the cloudiness in her eyes, and the airy moans that left her. She was almost gone and he’d barely even gotten started with her. “Guess what (Y/N)? You’re just taking it at this point, letting me do whatever the hell I want and fuck my cum back into your cunt like such a good little whore.”

(Y/N) keened at his vulgarity, soaking it in, the hand that wasn’t on his shoulder came to life. Roaming every inch of his body from the defined lines of his torso to the tensed muscles on his shoulders. She hadn’t gotten the chance to do that properly, to get drunk on the smooth skin that she’d been aching to wander for months. He was worth painting in this moment, sweat beading on his skin, building at the tip of his nose, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, perfectly shaped lips slightly parted, darkened blue eyes refusing to look anywhere but her. She could’ve came just from the sight.

He was becoming more and more vocal at her unabashed discovery of his body and the new emotion swirling in her eyes, moaning deeply against her lips. This wasn’t the same as their raunchy quickie in the Twinkie, here he could dig into her until his head was visible at her stomach and repeat the motion for hours. Pull out when they got close and then start right back up as soon as they came down if he pleased. It would be such a fat lie to say that he wasn’t getting off on her wandering touch and dreamy look, the way it seemed like she’d been longing to have him near. JJ adjusted the tiniest bit to increase the torturously deep thrusting while still maintaining a calculated speed that had her seeing stars. “Yes, yes,” (Y/N) whimpered out trembling as her fingers paused at his hips to squeeze. Her hypersensitive center was clamping down on his throbbing dick welcoming the new depth.

JJ was jabbing at her cervix ruthlessly, sliding against her velvet walls, reaching crevices she hadn’t known existed. Hitting the spot inside of her that sent her heels digging into the bed and toes curling. And like the criminal he was, JJ’s hand found the crook of her left knee forcing her leg up to reach even deeper. His balls constricted, all too close to finishing. “That’s it, yeah- yes- right there,” JJ was deaf to everything except the obscene sloshing sounds coming from between them and the impure filth intertwining with their muffled words. It was the only thing that could be heard from her room.

“JJ I-,” her high pitched whine fell off, not able to recall what she had intended to say. The heat in her core was seconds away from snapping like a rubber band. He was clouding every inch of her mind and every corner of her body. (Y/N)’s senses were experiencing a dramatic overload that left her repeating one single name in her mind. JJ. “I know- I know pretty girl,” he soothed patronizingly, walls tightening around him at the use of a pet name. He couldn’t help the grunt and snap of his hips upwards. “You’re so close (Y/N). Squeezing- fuck- my cock. Want me to fill your pretty little pussy again?”

Her hands shot out to grab at his muscular back, clawing lines down the smooth, fresh skin that had him hissing. JJ lost it, the sensually deep pace he had maintained turning into sloppier thrusts as she marked him this time. His shark necklace knocked into her chin with every upwards slam into her. The sight of it dangling down his neck was a turn on by itself. “Answer me,” JJ’s tone was dominant, the hand in her hair yanked at it as he made her glazed over eyes focus on him and not the necklace. His face was almost red, eyes dark and demanding as his hair tickled her forehead. “You need my cock and cum Princess, but do you want it?” JJ slammed into her, emphasizing every choice word, “You want me? I’ll make you cum right now, if you tell me who you want (Y/N).” JJ didn’t have (or want) to say his name since they both knew who he was referring to. Who the two choices were. His entire mind, body, and soul ached to know the answer and the devil on his shoulder used this moment to get it.

(Y/N)’s mouth opened and closed like a fish’s. The endorphins washing over her through his cruelly delicious attack made it hard to string a sentence. But the response was all too easy. He owned her. Even if karma was righteous and she never got the chance to give her whole self to him sexually and emotionally, JJ still held claim to her heart and pleasure no matter how much he doubted it. “Yo-,” she didn’t have to finish it. JJ’s arms wrapped under her shoulders, holding his body against hers until they could feel their hearts pounding inside. He jerked his hips into her, surpassing the rhythm he had set for himself. He was barely pulling out at this point, only an inch or two escaping before he was plunging back into her. That was all it took for both of them to fall apart.

His pelvic bone pressured her clit in just the right way for her eyes to roll to the back of her head. (Y/N)’s jaw went limp, hands finding JJ’s blonde locks and clinging for dear life as every single muscle in her body clenched. Her fifth orgasm of the night hit her like a car crashing into a brick wall at two hundred miles per hour, lifting her into a blissed out state with the wracking waves of pleasure. She shook in his grasp, reaching a high like no other as everything went silent around her. A broken high pitched noise and his loud moan vibrating against her is the last thing she heard.

JJ felt his cock squeezed by her spasming pussy, sending him over his own edge a second later. His mind fully warped around the sensation, eyes squeezing shut. “Holy.. fuck,” he exclaimed in a raspy voice while bulldozing into her in sync with his knee moving upwards and holding her lifted leg against the bed harshly. Their peaks magnified by the rawness of their feelings that had boiled over. Thick spurts of JJ’s cum coating her insides as he nuzzled his head into the crook of her neck. Bright dots littered his vision from the vigorous orgasm that claimed every part of him from the bottoms of his feet to the vein protruding in his neck.

Neither one of them even realized when JJ’s thrusts became lazier, losing energy as he came down. His pants coming out short and heavy onto her skin. The arms that had wrapped around her weakened their hold from the exhaustion setting in. He stilled at some point, breathing in the sweat of their sins and the scent of her floral perfume that lingered on the sheets around them consuming JJ’s senses. Laying with her in his arms still felt like a fever dream. If not for the mess they had made, JJ would’ve let them fall asleep right there. Kept himself snug and warm with her cunt. But he sluggishly lifted himself up instead having a promise to keep, his eyes finding their way to her face.

She was looking straight through everything in her line of sight like she was in a dreamlike state. That’s when he noticed how relaxed her body was beneath him, the shallow breathing. She’d been too quiet and hadn’t even lifted a finger to touch him. “Hey (Y/N)?” JJ murmured bringing his hand up to cup her cheek gently, caressing it with his thumb. He scanned over her face in confusion. It took a moment to realize it only because he couldn’t really believe it. More so doubting his capabilities. But seeing how far away she looked, JJ had to know he had fucked her into subspace. “(Y/N)?” JJ repeated a little louder realizing if he had, he certainly didn’t know how to pull her out of it. Panic began to settle in as his other hand went to her hair again, stroking through it with care and tenderness. “Hey Princess come back for me? It’s JJ,” the thought of having to call the one person who might know made him want to bury his fist in the closest wall.

She blinked once.

The hands offering solace and comfort were the first things she felt.

Then she blinked twice.

His honey-like voice urging her to return to him right before the glowing stars stuck to her ceiling began to look brighter.

Then finally her unfocused eyes were looking back at him. The fingers tangling through strands of her hair with a sense of uneasiness and his gentle voice asking for her was the only thing that managed to reach her. (Y/N) had never felt like that before, like she was transcending elsewhere. An out of body experience that she’d be unable to describe if asked. “JJ?” she mumbled, breathing a little heavier now. “What happened?” she questioned as he looked at her with sudden bewilderment which made her a little nervous. “You don’t know what happened? You’ve never reached subspace before?” She could hear it in his voice. The surprise that she’d done it with him and the boost of ego that came with not having done it with John B. The blush on her cheeks spread quickly, eyes closing as she buckled under his intense stare. (Y/N) was still basking in the glow from their shared orgasm which made it harder to think but she knew the answer.

She truthfully never had. There was times with John B she thought she might, but she’d been laced with uncertainty. (Y/N) would slow them down before her mind could wander off. It was always what she considered to be an irrational fear since John B would realistically never let something happen to her, but with JJ she had willingly let it happen. No, subconsciously, let it happen. Her body hadn’t fought it at all. “I’ve- no. I’ve never done that,” she admitted in a whisper looking anywhere but him. But his fingers found her chin, tilting her head back to him so their eyes could meet. The lust was replaced with something that (Y/N) had never seen in them before. Something she would call love if it didn’t sound absolutely insane. JJ Maybank in love with her. “S’not a big deal,” she tried to act like it wasn’t but it certainly felt like it.

JJ nodded carefully, acting with caution as she retreated back into her thoughts. He knew her too well by now. When things scared (Y/N), she’d pull away from them. She’d let her overthinking do the work before risking herself getting hurt. He didn’t want to push her back into her shell now. Not now that he had gotten a taste of her. That he had managed to open her up more than. Usually it was him running from any form of commitment, yet here he was practically salivating for it. “Yeah,” he sounded unconvinced but (Y/N) was glad he didn’t dwell on it. He winced as she shifted, his softening member grazing against her walls making her eyes flutter and plump lips part. “Tired?” JJ’s softness wasn’t easy to ignore considering she was used to his hard exterior hiding his emotions. They hadn’t actually gotten to this part earlier. JJ had to rush back before John B suspected anything while she had given herself the mercy of a couple of minutes to gather herself.

“Yeah,” (Y/N) breathed out letting her eyes close softly, still feeling the aftershocks of her intense orgasm and hopelessly attempting to run away from the thoughts in her mind. JJ did know her too well. Her eyes squeezed tighter as she felt JJ pull out, another round of their juices sneaking down between her crack and onto the bed. She might have to change the whole mattress honestly. JJ had to bite back an audible noise that wanted to spill out from the sight of it. His shiny, slick dick twitched below him. After cumming twice, he doesn’t understand how she holds enough power over him to illicit a response like this. JJ was capable of fucking her again if given the opportunity. But her sleepy eyes gave her away. They were both exhausted.

He moved farther away, only to pick her up bridal style from where she lay earning a low gasp. “What’re you doing?” (Y/N) mumbled, lacking the strength to fight him off at this present time. Her arms wound around his neck quickly in fear of diving headfirst into her oak wood floor but she had a feeling he wouldn’t let that happen. The muscles in his arms flexed as he walked her into the bathroom, only confusing her more. “I owe you a bath,” JJ stated like it was obvious when he saw her bewildered expression, leaning down to sit her onto the bathtub gently. Her heart felt tight in her chest having completely forgotten about her bath. All in all, it would’ve been pointless had she taken it earlier with JJ always getting his way.

She watched as he leaned down to switch the warm water on, closing the drain when it was at a nice temperature. The water crept through her toes first before touching the underside of her thigh. (Y/N) sighed at the way it soothed her aching skin and throbbing mound. He went to push the lid down on the toilet, eyeing it and lifting an eyebrow when it lowered gently. Kooks, he thought instantly. JJ turned to face her and take a seat. “You’re not getting in?” The question startled him, like that’s not what he’d been planning on doing whatsoever. “Uhm- I can… Figured I’d just give you one so you could get to bed and I’ll go after,” there he went again, tugging on emotions that she’d spent months hiding under a rug. She couldn’t get it through her head, why JJ was evoking a reaction from her that she didn’t know existed, one that didn’t compare to John B. If she thought she had loved JB then what was this? Fooling herself into believing that words during sex were simply just that was becoming impossible.

“I mean- s’a bit silly? I’m already in here.. You need sleep too. Might as well get in,” she tilted her head slightly, glancing at him with such fondness that could take his breath away. JJ swallowed as he stood up and slid inside behind her, finding the same relief in his joints that she had. She scooted backwards until their bodies were touching, laying back onto his solid chest with closed eyes. His body relaxed as she decided what boundaries they could cross outside of sex. They let the running water fill the comfortable silence as they nestled into each other. A conversation about where this was leading was probably in order, but it was easier to remain ignorant. To stay quiet in hopes of stretching out the moment in case it didn’t last.

JJ’s fingers danced on the edge of her thigh until they gradually spread for him. He traced around the bruise he’d left her close to apologizing for the purple emerging but also finding pride in being the one that left it on her. It dawned on him that John B could’ve seen it earlier if he had found out the way JJ had intended him to. His eyes peered over her features curiously, wondering if she had actually listened to his sex induced demand. He felt guilty now that it was John B’s girlfriend he had done that to. (Y/N) who wouldn’t hurt a fly unless it had messed with her own. His long-time best friend who he had betrayed in a way he wouldn’t wish upon his worst enemy. But his feelings for her made him act out in the moment instead of apologize. Made him want to rub it in JB’s face that her pleasure belonged to him. He let out a soft sigh, wanting to ask but lacking the courage. Her body was rising and falling in rhythm with his breathing, being covered by the water as it continued to rise. The bathroom fell quiet again as she peeked her eyes open to extend her foot and turn the handle off.

Once she did, her eyes fell on the place JJ’s fingers were making her skin shiver. With his other hand, he reached for her expensive looking body wash on the edge of the tub and the washcloth dangling close to their heads. She watched inquisitively as he dipped the rag in water squeezing the excess away and poured an ungracious amount of soap which made her giggle. He finally cracked a smile at that, leaving the bottle open as he set it back down. If JJ could get her to make that noise every day, it might just all be worth it in the end.

He began to lather her upper body first, feeling her jump slightly against him when his fingers grazed over her abused nipples. It felt nice though, domestic even. Him washing off the remnants of their day from her body. If only it was as easy to erase the memories. “I have to talk to him tomorrow,” she was the first to interrupt the silence making his smile falter and disappear like it’d never been there in the first place. He didn’t respond for a minute, just continuing to glide the washcloth over her thigh then down. He wiped meticulously between her legs knowing she was overly sensitive there now which was confirmed by the way her thighs went to shut but he stopped them.

“‘Bout what?” he didn’t mean it to be such a broad question but the snort she responded with made him aware of it. JJ knew what she wanted to discuss, he just didn’t know how to ask whether it’ll end with them breaking up officially or attempting to reconcile. (Y/N) wanted to pretend like he was being oblivious on purpose and not like she was reading into what was really going on. (Y/N)’s mind was muddled by the delicate way he was cleaning her off and the zero control she showed around him. Truthfully, she’d been inwardly swaying between the two boys for too long now.

(Y/N) shrugged her shoulders half-heartedly, watching his hand move down her tilted leg. The air felt heavy with the words spoken during intimacy. After being so forthcoming about who she’d choose, JJ still had an unwarranted fear that she would retract. Blame everything on the fact that she was lost chasing her high. He’d obviously excelled in that department, granting her with several orgasms but who she needed emotionally was still poking at him. It was an unintentionally loaded question that left her feeling anxious inside. “Don’t know yet.”

JJ didn’t speak again after that, he simply kept up his goal of bathing her. The washcloth smoothed over the bite on her shoulder making her whimper and throb at the same time. JJ was astonished with himself, finding it hard to believe he’d been capable of doing actual damage. But (Y/N)’s breathing was a tiny bit heavier, eyes opened halfway as she attempted to conceal how she felt about it. He had picked up on enough of her cues to know she had thrived off of it, during sex and now. JJ inhaled through his nose, free hand moving to tug at his cock slightly that had twitched. He wanted to do more, bite her thighs until his teeth tore through the flesh and tinted her tan with crimson red. Then soothe the skin with his tongue before repeating the act on her other thigh. Now that he had her, his possessiveness had gone into hyperdrive. Satiated only by the idea of his bite mark on her delicate skin.

Once she was covered in suds and the passion fruit smell filled his senses, he used the same washcloth on himself trying to distract and recollect himself before his animalistic kink was mentioned. (Y/N) had lifted up slightly allowing him to clean his front section too lost in her own mind to notice his revelation. She wanted to be the one to wash him, travel his body in the same way but by the time she got done overthinking, he seemed about done. She tugged on her bottom lip softly, opening the drain again to let out the dirty water. JJ sat up behind her and poured shampoo onto his hand before slipping his fingers through her wet hair unexpectedly. His fingers scratched softly at the scalp hearing a content hum from the girl in front of him. This was out of the norm for him, putting so much effort into aftercare. Girls would leave his room before he put any thought into them needing even a shower or rest. He was a dick and a player. He was well aware of that. JJ was also well aware that he wasn’t a dick and a player when it came to her.

He repeated the steps with the conditioner after washing her hair out with the clean water she was filling the bathtub up with. Before JJ could do it for himself, (Y/N) was turning around in between his legs and taking the shampoo from his grasp. She wouldn’t let the chance slip through her fingers. “You’ll smell like me,” she warned with a teasing smile softening the worry etched in their faces. JJ just stared at her. The lines on her forehead, the curve of her button nose, the undeserving kindness she showed him. Then he shrugged in the same manner she had. “Good,” he replied without a second thought to it making her blush reappear on her cheeks and down her neck.

(Y/N)’s soft hands ran shampoo through the blonde forcing his eyes to shut and an embarrassing moan to escape. But she giggled again. An onslaught of butterflies in his abdomen making him feel queasy. How could he really feel bad for his actions when everything inside of him turned into mush around her. “Never had someone wash your hair before?” It was supposed to be a joke but JJ gave her a small nod as he let his body relax from her touch. “Guess it’s a night of firsts,” he murmured reminding her that he’d been the first to drop her. She let out a shaky breath as he sunk into the water to wash off the shampoo.

He lifted out from the water, barely having a chance to rub the water out of his eyes before soft lips were finding his. There was no delay as he kissed her back, arms wrapping around her loosely to pull her closer. He straightened out his legs so that she could slide onto his lap with ease. Her fingers tangled in his hair that now looked a little darker from the water. They tugged tentatively, willing him to open his mouth for her. Her chest pressed against his just a little tighter as they deepened the kiss. He relinquished control under her, letting her continue to guide the pace they were moving at. Her tongue slid against his, tasting him.

The kiss grew lazy, mouths moving against one another for the sole purpose of being able to in the private confines of her bathroom. His hands found the curves of her waist, sliding over them to her back and then down to grab handfuls of her ass. He lifted her closer to him centers aligning as she gasped into the kiss. She moved slightly but one of JJ’s hands found sanctuary wound around her throat. He pulled (Y/N) back to him, lips melting into a more meticulous kiss. He licked between her lips once, then twice with a particularly jarring squeeze to her ass cheek. She complied more willing than she gave away. JJ’s tongue circled hers, groaning as she began to pull away. (Y/N) kept their forehead and noses connected. “J?” she mumbled resting her palms on his torso and digging her fingers in softly.

“Yeah?” he breathed out reaching forward slightly in attempt to catch her lips again but she didn’t let him. “Conditioner?” she asked which made him chuckle and shake his head slightly without pulling away. JJ kept his hands in place and used them to stand up with her, water pouring down from both their bodies while she scrambled to find a grip on his shoulders. “You think my dad buys shampoo and conditioner? Think I’m good with shampoo,” he didn’t mean it like that, but the pang of guilt and sadness hit her nonetheless. JJ didn’t even bother to empty out the bath water just to check that no more was falling in, ignoring her chirps of protest once he led them out of the bathroom.

“JJ- my bed. I swear-.”

“Swear what?”

He hovered her above the clean side of the mattress, a mischievous smirk finding its way. “I-I..,” she couldn’t come up with a rebuttal fast enough before he was dropping onto the bed with her and laying them down. (Y/N) wanted to be mad but a laugh is what came out instead as he tugged her close against him, facing one another. “Too slow,” he deemed letting the pillows pave a way to the drowsiness kicking in. He didn’t expect it to happen so quickly but he really was worn out. JJ’s blue eyes began to flutter in front of her and she laid her hand on his cheek gently. All it took was that for them to close completely.

(Y/N) took in this freshly washed version of JJ getting comfy in her bed. She’d be in so much trouble if her dad caught them. He was used to John B. Accepting of his daughter dating a Pogue because they’d become well aquatinted together while working on The Druthers. But JJ Maybank? Son of the town drunk who was notorious for stealing and picking fights with anyone in his life including JJ? He’d have a heart attack from his hatred toward Luke and JJ, who he had already had a couple of run ins with at the Island Club. Although, no matter how much trouble she could get into, he still looked unbearably cute releasing soft puffs of air her way.

“Look whose tired now,” she teased as he fought to keep himself awake through the rubbing of her thumb and the welcoming satin feel of the pillowcase. JJ mumbled incoherently switching between the comfort her hand offered and the darkness looming. He slipped further into the vulnerable limbo of sleep when he spoke next. “It’s not just sex to me (Y/N).”

The words hung in the air as he finally drifted off, snores interrupting the thudding off her heart in her throat. It was bittersweet to hear him utter the words her body craved from him. What she felt for John B didn’t come close to this. She would be in denial if she didn’t face it. (Y/N) didn’t see any plausible way to make this work though, even if she wanted it to. John B and JJ were as thick as thieves. Best friends for life. She had already come between that and caused enough damage. If she chose one of them now, their friendships would never be the same. Between any of them, not just the three that were now stuck in a love triangle.

With the weight of the world on her shoulders and the peace offered by the warmth he radiated, she let herself be taken over by the same darkness. After a long, perplexing day, both of them were drained mentally and physically. Any apprehension she felt could wait till tomorrow. Not even her overthinking could keep her up tonight. And if JJ fell asleep remembering that he hadn’t mentioned John B’s name again the whole night, well. He kept it to himself.

*****

“(Y/N)?” she heard faintly making her snuggle further into the damp sheets and comforters that were colder now without the presence of body heat at her side.

“Five more minutes,” she urged in the haze not wanting to awaken just yet but the voice was persistent and annoying on the other side of her door. Her doorknob rattled as the intruder attempted to open it which is what made her stir finally. “Five more- (Y/N) get up,” Rafe’s frustrated voice rang from the outside of her bedroom which made her eyes peek at last. Instead of being met with an empty room though, JJ was standing in front of her bathroom with wide eyes, her toothbrush hanging from his mouth, and low-hanging boxers. “Dad said you were supposed to come to the country club with us. Hurry up,” Rafe rushed her assuming she’d been in the process of getting ready when she had completely forgotten.

(Y/N) had promised she’d go to dinner with them Saturday afternoon since she’d been spending so much time with John B and her friends on The Cut. She had never slept into the afternoon though. With a quick flicker of her eyes to the clock that read 4:56 P.M. and back to a half naked JJ, memories of yesterday flooded her. Any tiredness that remained was long gone now as she shot up from the bed, holding the comforter to her naked chest. “Uhm- yeah,” (Y/N)’s called out more firmly now that she was fully awake. “Tell dad I’m not feeling well- I’ll go to dinner tomorrow.” There was a pause on the other side of the door as JJ took the toothbrush out of his mouth.

“Is John B in there with you?” Rafe accused which made JJ’s fingers twitch with jealousy. He had to refrain himself from calling out to him and making it clear that it was him and not John B who had the privilege of waking up at her side this morning. “God Rafe no,” (Y/N) claimed in exasperation, irritated with the way this conversation with going. She shouldn’t feel guilty about the flash of anger in JJ’s blue eyes but she did. “I was just out late at The Boneyard. Got a massive hangover. Tell him I’m sick,” (Y/N) lied but it was the only thing that she knew would convince him. They had seen each other in passing last night so there was no reason Rafe wouldn’t believe her. It seemed to work though as he huffed from the other side.

“And you’re still the favorite?” He asked rhetorically and bitterly as heavy footsteps began making their way away from her door hinting at his departure. They both waited another minute before visibly relaxing now that they weren’t caught. She moved her attention back to JJ who made his way into the restroom to spit out the toothpaste and rinse his mouth out. There were bright, red gashes down his back making her breath hitch as she realized she was the blame. She tried to shake the thought away, ignoring the stirring in her pit. Like she had enjoyed staking her own claim. (Y/N) paid attention to what she should be disgusted in instead. JJ was using her toothbrush, the one she’d been using daily for the last month. But it warmed her heart a little that JJ hadn’t minded using it. He was so calm, walking around her room and using her things like he belonged there. Yesterday she had woken beside John B in the Chateau and today she had JJ in her bedroom on Figure Eight. Oh how the tables had turned.

It’s not just sex to me (Y/N).

The words made their way to the forefront of her mind as she chewed on her bottom lip watching him. He turned to her with a nonchalant, unreadable expression on his face. “So round 3?” He joked as he threw the hand towel he used to dry his face across his shoulder and crossed his arms in front of her. The way his eyes scanned her body hidden by the covers made her question whether it was indeed a joke or not though. The area between her legs reawakened from the way he hungrily looked her over like she’d been served to him on a silver platter. It became obvious rather quickly that they couldn’t be alone anymore without succumbing to the temptation.

“No,” (Y/N) said adamantly as she stood up dragging the covers behind her and retrieving a matching lavender lace bra and panty set to wear. She moved to the closet after a quick slam of the drawer and found jean shorts with a simple white t-shirt to wear. “You’d look better in mine,” JJ hummed from where he stood checking her out as she bit back a snarky remark and evaded the idea of herself in his clothing. It seemed as though they were back to normal, pushing until the other broke. Clearly last nights words were lost to the night. (Y/N) turned to make her way towards the bathroom acting unbothered with the tips of ear feeling a little hot and heart skipping a beat in her chest. He made no effort to move out of her way, just grinned with entertainment. His favorite past time was pushing her buttons until she snapped. This time pushing her buttons held a new type of reward that he wanted to relive a dozen times over.

(Y/N) scoffed at him though, squinting her eyes in mock anger to see if he would budge. But he simply peered down towards the sheet covering her chest and leaned closer to her. “I said-,” his thumb running across her bottom lip made her falter. The want in his eyes was pouring into her all too quickly. She was trying to make sense of this situation she had landed herself into but JJ made it easy to lose track of everything. Her heart and body yearned for things that she wasn’t allowed to have. She couldn’t explain how she had let herself be roped into the mess that is JJ. He was too good at reminding her though, lowering his hand down her jaw to her throat. He closed the space, tightening his fingers and feeling the jump in her pulse.

It was that small detail that made him act. “I know what you said,” he murmured before whirling them around so that her back hit the wall next to the door. His hand rested above her head, effectively trapping her against his body. “You said no… But you’re just so reactive,” he claimed as his leg slid between hers. The position mirrored the one from last night lighting the flame of arousal with memories and nothing but the thin sheet covering her as his bare thigh rubbed against her core. JJ felt it immediately, the wetness seeping through and making him groan quietly. Her breathing was already picking up, cheeks becoming flushed in a matter of seconds. “See Princess? I know what you like,” he did. In a matter of twenty four hours he had picked up on every cue that gave away what made her tick. “Like when your dad woke me up knocking on the door. I was so hard,” he pressed against her harder, “I know you would’ve liked me waking you up by stuffing you full of my cock.”

“JJ..,” she moaned his name without thinking moving her hand to grip at his wrist in a warning. Her knees wanted to give out under her from the indecency he was spewing. He leaned down to feather his lips across her ear feeling her tremble against his body. “Should’ve made you scream daddy so he knew who owned his daughter now,” JJ whispered with a menacing squeeze that made her whimper, breaths coming out short. She would’ve been on the floor now had it not been for his grip on her neck. He almost devoured her the second he felt the damp spot on the sheet grow at his words. His boxers were constricting at a rapid pace now that he discovered a new kink as his lips latched onto her shoulder close to where his bite mark was. “You like that? Like imagining daddy shoving his cock into his sleeping girl?” JJ groaned sending vibrations through her skin that made her body arch into him.

“Fuck- J,” (Y/N) gasped out catching him off guard and shoving him abruptly from where he stood. JJ’s eyes were darker now, taking one step forward ready to pounce before he noticed the fiery look she held. His chest was rising and falling now fighting himself from reaching out and taking her again. “I’m serious. Last night was sex. That’s all it was, okay? We spent months playing this little game and it was bound to happen. Now it’s out of our system,” it was a lie when she said it, they both knew it, “and it doesn’t have to happen again. I have to go apologize to John B.” She moved to the bathroom and closed the door behind herself with a loud thud before he had the chance to rebuttal. She leaned back into it closing her eyes and inhaling deeply.

(Y/N) hadn’t intended to be so mean with her words but he wasn’t listening to her and she needed him to remember why he hated her before they met. It was easier to have JJ hate her. If he did, she wouldn’t be going through all these conflicting thoughts in her head. She suddenly wished her mom was still here. She would have had the best advice for her. It probably would’ve gone something along the lines of follow your heart but her mom hadn’t met JJ yet, the culprit of her swaying heart. (Y/N) sighed rubbing her entire face as if that would somehow wake her up from her nightmare.

After a moment of alone time to calm her unfurling heat, she got dressed with the clothes she had brought into the bathroom. Her hair was a mess from where she had fallen asleep with it wet so she most definitely had to brush it. The memory of them in the bathtub made her pause in the mirror. She could still feel his fingers tracing the bruise he had left and the adoring way he had cleaned every corner of her body. He didn’t deserve her attitude yet she had given it to him anyways. No matter how much John B was probably blaming JJ, it was ultimately her fault for giving into the desire. It was such a frustrating notion to her that she wanted to punch the mirror in front of her but she’d end up hurting herself more than accomplishing anything.

Her moment of alone time turned into twenty minutes of stress-filled pacing. JJ’s wary knock at the door is what snapped her out of it. She ran a hand through her wavy hair before opening it and finding JJ wearing his outfit from the night before with concern written all over his face. JJ knew he had gotten caught up in the heat of the moment when she strutted around with nothing but a sheet on. She had that power over him, to rile him up without actively doing anything. JJ still wanted to give her any necessary space before trying to speak to her but she was taking too long and he was frightened by how often she fell victim to her doubts. “You okay?” he checked in with her, scanning her face which was devoid of any clues as to how she was feeling. His hand tentatively reached up to brush some hair behind her ear gently making her heart do somersaults. “Yeah,” she mumbled unable to resist nudging against his hand to melt into it as a small peace offering, bathing in the warmth his body offered her.

She was supposed to be angry, shoving him away. But the whirlwind going on inside of her tugged her from one side to the other. JJ kept his hand there, soothingly rubbing circles into her cheek. He was still cautious as he stepped closer to her, to wrap an arm around her delicate waist and better angle his hand. Her eyes never left his as she allowed him to bring her into his embrace. (Y/N) wanted to fight against it inside but her body melted into his without letting her second guess it. “I’ll go talk to JB with you,” he finally told her after a minute or two of calming her down. He already behaved like a coward leaving the Chateau before things got out of hand. Which meant JJ had to go and at least try to apologize and own up to the fact that he just should’ve gone about things a different way. He didn’t know how well that’d fare over or how he’d handle John B’s valid attitude towards them, especially her, but he would try nonetheless. At least that’s what he also told Kie last night. But he kept that conversation to himself for now.

Him joining her was shocking, enough for her eyes to swirl with uncertainty. “JJ- I don’t know. What if it’s not a good idea?” she mumbled then, her hand fisting his shirt as the anxiety of what was about to occur began to eat her up. If there was something she struggled to keep within, it would be the tell-tale sign of her nerves. Her heartbeat would run amuck and the nausea would hit her in a way she could barely keep her balance. This time instead of needing a Zofran it was JJ who helped keep her breathing steady and panic attack at bay. His fingers slipped under her shirt in the back, tracing his hand to her hip and offering her a gentle squeeze.

“I don’t care honestly. I’ve got some things I have to apologize for too,” he sighed hoping this could’ve been pushed back maybe just a week. That would give him enough time to settle into whatever this was and break her cement walls down. But she couldn’t live another day knowing how mad John B had been yesterday. It hurt her because she’d been the one to cause so much agony. And no matter what happened, John B still held a place in her heart which complicated things further in her mind. There was a war between her heart and brain that she just wanted to end one way or another. “And I messed up last night. Not with John B but with you. Takes two to tango and I shouldn’t have left you alone,” he added then assuaging her guilt. His fingers ran over her hip bone, circling there for a minute before pressing in slightly.

The look on her face when she walked into her room last night would be engrained into his hippocampus forever. The wet puffy cheeks, bloodshot eyes, broken exterior. He blamed himself for that. For causing her so much turmoil. But he was selfish at the same time, glad that he’d been the one to find her. The back of her mind made it a point to notice that he regretted not being there for her, not the actual sin they committed. This new side of him was frightening yet everything she wanted at the same time. (Y/N) nodded wordlessly as her hip nudged out slightly into his palm, comforted by the soft caressing while also conflicted. Not knowing how to respond to him when she couldn’t process the change in their dynamic. She also knew there’d be no stopping him even if she wanted to.

“We can take my bike, stashed it in some bushes,” the casual words summoned an unexpected laugh from her. She hadn’t thought about how he had gotten to her house last night, too distracted by his unholy mouth and skilled hands. It made sense that he would’ve had to hide the green worn down bike so that nobody called the cops with stupid accusations. A small smile danced on her lips as she pulled away to lead them out of her bedroom. “I’ve never ridden on your bike,” the comment made him return the same mischievous grin while glancing at the hallway.

“Never had a girl besides Kie on my bike,” it shouldn’t have made her feel jealous but God, it was like an accidental flip of a switch, there were so many times she had thought they liked each other. Hearing that she was the only girl to ride with him made her miss a step on the way down the staircase to which JJ’s hand jumped out to grab her arm quickly. A small embarrassed smile shot his way before he let go with a small squeeze to her forearm and she continued down the steps hastily. He noticed it, noticed the unintended affect his words had. But before he could add something else in, a younger girl was walking out of a bedroom at the same time they were approaching the second floor.

Wheezie’s eyes bulged out of her head behind her glasses, looking from (Y/N)’s widened eyes to the frozen stranger behind her. “That’s not John B,” her sister stated the obvious lowering her phone with a twinkle of mischief in her eyes. She had also been informed by Rafe that their sister was supposedly bed-ridden with a gnarly hangover which didn’t seem to be the case at all. “Nope, JJ,” he introduced himself with a half-assed smile not intending to come across as rude but seriously. Did people have to keep mentioning him? She crossed her arms over her chest with such a wicked smile.

“Okay Wheezie. John B knows so you can’t use that against me,” (Y/N) blurted out immediately recognizing the intentions behind her sisters stance. But the younger girl just smiled wider, taking a pause to come up with something else. “Well dad doesn’t know. He doesn’t let guys spend the night remember?” she reminded her of Ward’s rules to let her know she had them by the balls. (Y/N) cursed under her breath looking down the steps to the first floor before meeting Wheezie’s eyes and running her fingers through her hair. Normally they always got along with minimal issues. But if Wheezie caught a scent of wrongdoing, she was like a dog with a bone.

“Fine. I’ll do whatever you want. Just tell me later because we’ve really got to go,” (Y/N) gave in as she stepped down the last step with JJ following suit now that the situation was handled. Wheezie let out an excited squeal running back into her room to surely make a whole list of things that she would make (Y/N) do. The girl couldn’t even help the chuckle that escaped her lips as they walked the rest of the way to the main floor. She had to give it to her sister. Wheezie was indeed too smart for her own good. “I like her. She’s a hustler,” JJ nodded with a serious tone that made (Y/N) laugh a bit too loudly and shake her head. He cracked a big grin, teeth showing and eyes crinkling at the sound that had his heart swelling.

With one last glance up the stairs where her sister resided, (Y/N) headed out the door with a happy smile feeling a little more airy than before. It felt odd to have JJ walking through her house, meeting one of her family members. Her life with the Pogues this summer had been an adventure of a lifetime and she didn’t tend to mix it too much with her home life. Even John B had only come over a handful of times for dinner in the short couple months of them dating. And he really only slept over once or twice. Kie was the exception. They had plenty of sleepovers at both houses. It’s not that she was ashamed of the guys, it was more like she was ashamed of her life. The pointless knick knacks that rich people bought, the amount of empty bedrooms, the sense of entitlement that the people in her life had. Money would always come and go, as long as she had her real family, the Pogues, with her then everything would be alright.

“She’s like my sister though so it doesn’t count,” JJ spoke, bringing her out of her thoughts as they walked down the lawn. (Y/N) glanced over at him with a puzzled look on her face which made him pause at the side gate they were coming up to. She pulled the gate door open until she realized he wasn’t walking through. “Kie?.. She’s like my sister so it doesn’t count… You’re the first girl to ride my bike,” he put emphasis on the word by stepping closer to her, using his knuckle to brush against the back of hers before feathering his fingertips up her arm and shoulder. (Y/N)’s heart began to pound in her chest when she picked up on what he was saying. His fingers continued until he cupped her chin, thumb pulling her bottom lip softly before releasing it and watching it bounce back. JJ was enthralled by the sight and she him.

No matter how much she wanted to release herself from the guilt and kiss him until their lips were sore and raw, (Y/N) also wanted to tell him to quit it. To stop making this more difficult than needed but somehow the world slips away when he’s near. Her bottom lip was lit on fire where the pad of his thumb touched, she was drawn to him like a magnet. His head inched forward almost as if waiting for her to push him away. “J..,” she mumbled reaching her hand up onto his chest, running her palm across it until she arrived at his shark tooth necklace and tugged slightly. She did nothing to pull away from him as the memory of it hitting her chin surfaced and weakened her with the tingles it provoked. “Tell me to stop,” he whispered as his lips ghosted over hers. His tongue slipped out to lick his bottom lip, purposefully smoothing over hers. (Y/N) tugged hard on the necklace not even a second later unable to refrain herself. Their lips connected, JJ’s hand molding into the curve of her neck while the other got lost in her hair. Kissing JJ felt like the first time every time. It was passionate, breath-taking.

Her knees wanted to buckle in his hold, sensing the adoration mixed in. It was like JJ read her mind, the way he walked her back into the gate. (Y/N)’s back met the searing metal that only added to the heat escalating the temperature of her body. But he didn’t let his hand roam. Instead he deepened the kiss, putting spotlight attention on taking the breath out of her lungs. He explored every corner, tasted the mint of her toothpaste, memorized the way her tongue slid against his. JJ could only focus on the moment, shoving every worry aside with ease. It was the way her fingers brushed the bare skin under his shirt that had him pressing her body into the fence.

(Y/N) gasped, tilting her head to the side away from him slightly to pant for air. JJ just saw the opportunity to kiss up the curve of her jaw, causing her eyes to flutter. Her nails dug into the crook of his v-line just as he reached the spot on her neck that twisted knots in her belly. JJ had to stifle a groan, sucking on the sensitive skin possessively and with fervor as his hand gripped her hair straining her neck as forced it up. He moved with gentle yet frantic urgency, swiping his tongue every so often to hear the mewl that escaped her lips. The pleasure and stinging sensation blinding her from how careless leaving yet another mark on her was. It wasn’t until he was satisfied and she was whining from the discomfort evolving that he pulled back to admire his work ignoring the temptation to see red. His lips parted, short harsh breaths washing over the darkened spot on her neck. (Y/N) let out an involuntary whimper at the feeling, meeting his forehead with hers to sway his attention.

JJ’s hold loosened at the same time a car engine roared through the street. Had cars been passing by the whole time? Neither one had been able to hear a thing besides the person in front of them. He still preferred to focus on the lines and dips of her face over the Kooks driving by. It felt like they were in their own bubble, rid of consequences. But some thought would always creep into the front of her mind as the oxygen seemed to reach her head again. It was only a name. But a name that held enough weight to get her to drop her hand from his shirt. JJ’s eyes flashed with something unreadable as he witnessed the moment she slipped away again.

“So I take it that means you only have one helmet?” It was meant to show indifference and lighten the magnitude of the moment but (Y/N)’s voice wobbled. She would’ve looked away the second she said it but the hand on her chin kept her where JJ wanted. The other one fell to his side aching in a similar way her body did. “It’s yours Princess,” JJ spoke with deeper meaning behind the hint of playfulness. The helmet wasn’t the only thing that was hers, his mouth was, his body, his thoughts, the stupid red baseball cap, especially his heart. Most definitely his heart. She could see it in blue of his irises. The intensity behind his words left her speechless once again. As much as she wanted to read between the lines, there were too many obstacles between them.

It was JJ who finally had to muster the strength to pull apart, his fingers tightening just briefly before letting go of her chin completely. He masked his own disappointment with the only way they knew how to communicate. A devious little smirk emerged at the prominent hickey forming on her neck and he rubbed at his jaw contemplating his work. “Damn, there’s no missin’ that,” JJ chuckled snapping her out of it as her hand flew up to her neck to touch the sore area. She cursed under breath, shoving at his arm slightly with her free hand as she lifted away from the fence.

“I think you’ve marked me enough,” (Y/N) huffed not even wanting to imagine what John B’s reaction would be. The bite on her shoulder and the other hickey was covered by the t-shirt, but this one would take more effort to hide. She flipped some of her hair forward which was temporarily successful. It irked JJ to see her covering up the evidence of his touch. He wanted to behave but his jealousy was ravenous. With a mind of it’s own that didn’t think about anybody else. “Don’t think it’s enough if you can still cover them,” he noted, the smirk disappearing into a thin line on his lips. She rolled her eyes at the comment biting back the urge to remind him she wasn’t his. As much as she wanted to wear it proudly, show all the girls on both sides of the island that JJ had been the one to do this, she couldn’t. (Y/N) simply had to ignore how hot his possessive tendencies were.

“Whatever,” she exclaimed, too flustered to find a witty response. She opened the gate again, not waiting for JJ this time around as she slipped through and began walking to the side of her house where JJ had presumably left the bike. He took just another second before following after her, taking the lead since he was the only one who knew where the bike was actually hidden. They glanced at each other for a meager second before (Y/N) was turning her attention to the oncoming car. JJ looked away, clicking his tongue against the rooftop of his mouth as they came up to one particularly big bush. He disappeared behind it before re-emerging pushing the handles out. (Y/N) swallowed the lump in her throat now that they were actually about to leave. She felt frozen as JJ casually hopped onto the bike and turned the key. The sound made her jump in JJ’s peripheral view. He turned his head towards her, reading the hesitance on her expression.

JJ reached his arm back to grab the helmet, nudging it into her stomach gently. “Hey it’ll be fine,” he meant both the bike ride and the conversation with John. But he couldn’t really know if it would be so the attempt at easing her was pointless.. She exhaled for a moment, taking in the tenderness that he spoke with and the affection swimming in the oceans of his eyes before nodding. She took the helmet from his grasp to put it on. Her nervous fingers fiddled with the clasp to close it once it was on. It’s not like she really knew how to do it anyways so the jitters kicking in didn’t help. Her inexperience was so obvious that it was embarrassing. But JJ’s rough fingers snuck past hers, pushing them out of the way to clasp it shut with one easy motion. “There,” his voice was kind, devoid of any judgement or ridicule. The stirring in his chest at the sight of her in his helmet further restricted his ability to breathe.

She slipped onto the bike with a shade of soft pink traveling up her neck. (Y/N) made sure to scoot closer, wrapping her arms around JJ’s torso and holding her hands there in preparation for her first ride. The heat of his body was soothing as the apphrension grew. JJ just always seemed to read her perfectly though, giving her hands a small squeeze before putting both of his on the handles and beginning to ride out onto the street. She let out a small gasp at the wind blowing past them when he really started down the road. It was more exhilarating than she could’ve imagined it being. Her senses were hyper alert, aware of every turn and increase of speed.

He was a pro at it though, weaving through cars and traffic with no issue. JJ could feel her tighten her grip every time they got close to another car. Normally he’d tease Kie, riding as close as he could to it just to hear her yell at him. But with her he sped farther away, not wanting to scare her during her right off the bat. This side of himself was just as surprising to him as it has been to her. The boys would prod and tease him until his grave if they found out. JJ had spent so long trying to convince himself that what he felt was just lust and taboo desire. But now these pent up emotions were finally loose and swirling inside of him he struggled to refrain from from acting normally.

(Y/N) did end up raising her head up very slowly at one point to take in the ocean view at their side. The sun was still out, shining down on the water below and giving it a yellow tint behind the clear blue. The rush she got from the wind hitting every part of her body only heightened the beauty of it. It was enough for her to forget the wave of nausea that had been hitting a few minutes ago and the fear that had kept her glued to his back. JJ had caught sight of her in his mirror, admiring the serenity in her features. (Y/N) looked breathtaking with her freshly washed hair flowing back, her eyes filled with peace. He thinks he understood in that moment that what he felt was called love. There was no other word for it but that. There was no tip-toeing around the way his heart felt like imploding in his chest and his lungs felt like evaporating into thin air when she was near.

Just as quick as it happened though, the semi speeding past them in the lane snapped her out of it. She was back into the curve of his back, helmet smushed into the space between his shoulder blades. Hands wound tightly around him.

They continued the rest of the way in silence. The further they got from Figure Eight, the more her body became rigid against his back. It hit her then that it was an extremely bad idea to show up with JJ but it was too late to turn around now. The familiar streets of the Cut came into view reinforcing her panic. Her grip had cemented so much JJ thought she would actually leave a few bruises or wounds behind. “Nothing’s gonna happen (Y/N),” he tried, lacing his fingers with hers for just a quick second and squeezing before having to grab the handle to turn into the Chateau.

The familiar sound of the dirt bike alerted everyone inside to their presence. John B was darting up from his spot on the couch faster than Kie and Pope could even process it. The front door was propelled open against the siding of the house, John B’s eyes narrowing on JJ who was helping his girlfriend off the dirt bike and then unclasping the helmet for her. “You’re fucking joking right now,” John B saw red, anger etched in his entire soul from head to toe. If looks could kill, they’d be dead and buried deep underground. (Y/N) had the thought to at least cover her neck with her hair and then turn away from JJ to confront the fiery brown eyes shooting daggers their way.

“Hey, it’s not what you think JB please. I just came to apologize. We both did,” (Y/N) spoke in a soft tone to relay just how much she meant it. She hadn’t intended for John B to end up as casualty in the process. She truly hadn’t thought at all in the moment. Kie and Pope came out through the front door to stand behind the fuming man next to them as she took a couple of uncertain steps forward. “Yesterday- that’s not what should’ve happened and I’m so sorry,” (Y/N) pleaded with him but the words couldn’t heal a wound of this nature. Especially not with his best friend standing behind her with crossed arms leaning his bum against the bike looking like a pompous asshole. Her words had stung JJ hard after the revelations they had whispered into the dead of the night. It wasn’t intended to come off as regretful but he couldn’t help but take it as that. Lashing out from the burn of her words, he smirked at John B to provoke him instead of keeping a level head.

“Not what I think? Seriously?” John B seethed not even wanting to voice his deplorable thoughts because they’d be too severe and permanent. He took steps forward to be face to face with (Y/N) but still keeping his distance. His blood was sizzling, eyes pitch-black and somehow losing light by the second. If (Y/N) had thought he was furious yesterday, it had nothing on the anger John B felt with the pair in his sight. “I think you’re just a spoiled Kook that came to experiment with us Pogues. Had fun yet? Whoring around?” John B spat as he kept his focus on her. If he dared to look JJ’s way again he might not be able to restrain himself.

(Y/N)’s eyes watered, taking a step back as Kie tried to rest her hand on the tense muscle of John B’s shoulder to diffuse the tension. Maybe in some way she had come to hear his demeaning words. She felt worthy of them. JJ, however, was the complete opposite. He had managed to keep quiet until know, acting on impulse as he sprung up to shield her from the livid man in front of her. He could accept that John B was more than just resentful, but throwing insults (Y/N)’s way was a line he wouldn’t let JB cross. “Watch your fucking mouth John B. You’re just mad that your little game didn’t turn out the way you wanted it to,” JJ bellowed at him matching his rage with an icy glare, knowing exactly what buttons to press before Kie could set out to cool him off.

JB’s arms ripped out of Kie’s grip in a split second decision, thrusting out to shove at his best friends hard chest with flat palms. It sent him falling back but only provoked him more. JJ looked like the devil. His lips curving into a wicked smile, hair tousled by the wind. Blue eyes were dripping with venom. Quicker than JJ could retaliate, (Y/N)’s small, gentle hands caught the back of his arms before he could stumble into her. “J Please,” (Y/N) begged under her breath into the privacy of his muscular back sounding distraught as she grounded him, “this isn’t why we came here.” He did his best to inhale deeply through a clenched jaw, visibly taking breaths from within to calm himself. It was rare to get him to pull away from the blinding fury once he was absorbed by it but he was helpless, in the mercy of her soft heart. Focusing on the delicate way she tried to soothe him by rubbing small circles into his side. It might’ve almost been enough to end the fight but it only set John B into a spiral witnessing the affectionate exchange. It was now the second time he was reminded of the fact that (Y/N) wasn’t the one winding him down.

“You’re worse than me JJ you know that? Luke Maybank’s kid,” John B landed a low blow that visibly made JJ falter, jaw flexing in rage, “Just another delinquent in the works... ,” he drawled out with a closed fist shove of JJ’s shoulder, the tension skyrocketing around them and pricking the hairs on everyone’s skin. “C’mon John B- this is pointless nothing is getting resolved- we can wait till everyone is ready,” Pope was practically begging as he attempted to tug at John B’s arm. But he was strong-willed and unflinching as he stepped forward to be almost chest to chest to JJ. Blue met brown as their eyes locked, everything eerily quiet. “You think she’s gonna want you?” The vindictive words crashed into him. JJ couldn’t stand being compared to Luke. His dad beat his mom and beat him too and JJ swore that would never be him. And knowing that he wasn’t worthy of (Y/N) was one thing, being reminded of it was another.

Except JJ knew exactly how to retaliate.

His muscles loosened as all the tension was released from his body. A lazy, horrific smile appeared on JJ’s face with cold eyes staring him down. It was a look unlike he’d ever given anyone. Kie was almost quivering just from witnessing it, much less did she want to be on the receiving end of it. He’d spent months pining after her, dealing with with his conflicting emotions, watching his best friend be happy and ignoring his own needs for John B’s sake. But JJ wasn’t going to do that anymore, not when it came to her.

So he knew exactly what to say.

And the color in (Y/N)’s face drained as JJ crept a couple of measured steps until he was standing beside her. She knew what he was going to say before it came out of his mouth.

JJ’s fingers trailed over to her hair, flicking it back as he bit his lip to contain the sinister smile. Everyone’s eyes falling on the darkening hickey as (Y/N) felt her cheeks hot, head spinning and eyes blurry with embarrassment and anger.

“Well JB that’s not what she was saying in her bedroom last night. She wanted me a lot..,” JJ chuckled criminally while maintaining a look of pure satisfaction. Making it clear that (Y/N) had not just wanted him, but begged for it. He practically ate up the shock piercing John B’s features. Just to make sure there was no miscommunication, JJ sunk the knife in further for good measure.

“You know.. her bedroom… with those cute glow in the dark stars stuck to the ceiling?”

It was Kie that gasped before John B reacted. She’d been in (Y/N)’s room plenty of times to know exactly what he was talking about.

Less than a second later, JJ’s jaw made a worrisome cracking noise as John B connected his balled up fist to it. Despite the metallic taste in his mouth, JJ didn’t hesitate to lunge forward and tackle John B to the ground. Both of them snapped, yelling profanities and taking their rage out on the other. He swung blindly, rings jabbing into John B’s abdomen. The taller man winced, before thrusting his knee upwards and digging it into JJ’s chest.

“JJ!”

“John B!”

Both girls kept yelling and risking a hit by trying to get in the middle of them. But it was next to impossible. Pope jumped up to try to intercept but they were both pushed over the edge now. He couldn’t get a single chance through the flying limbs. They had both been stewing in their rage for too long now. John B had been waiting to do this since last night and seeing as he hadn’t been able to because JJ was on Figure Eight, he was only further enraged. “You were my best fucking friend!” John B shouted as he managed to flip JJ onto his back, punching him coldly without measure. (Y/N) cried out and screamed at them, pleading as she watched JJ close his blue eyes. His body went limp, John B holding him up by the grip on his shirt. She recognized what he was doing because she had done the same thing by coming here. They were both looking to assuage their guilt by looking for punishment from the person they had betrayed.

“John B, he isn’t fighting back!” (Y/N) pleaded loudly with a tear-stricken face, catching his wrist before he could swing again. But he was stronger than her, especially fueled by the burning jealousy and wrath at their infidelity. She was no match for him as he landed another hard blow at JJ. “Fight back!” John B yelled into his face but JJ just gave him a lopsided grin, blood snaking it’s way down his chin to his throat and staining the hem of his colar line. He let out a heart-wrenching yell as his fist landed on the grass next to JJ’s head.

Everyone paused.

John B’s heavy breathing broke through the sounds of the crickets.

They just stared at each other while the other looked on. Almost as if they were communicating without saying a word.

Pope decided to use this momentary pause and separate them, latching on to John B’s shoulders to drag him away. It was relatively easy to do considering JB was no longer fighting back. His eyes were swelling with frustration and fury, tears that he was trying to keep in making their way out at an unstoppable pace. Beating JJ to a pulp would be too easy and he wasn’t even getting the satisfaction of the blonde haired guy pushing back. “You were my best friend and you fucked my girlfriend,” he spoke loudly, but more disheartened towards him watching as (Y/N) knelt at his side to check on the bruising eye.

“I’m sorry- I’m so sorry,” (Y/N) sobbed to both of them, feeling like this was all her fault. Her fingers swiped softly at the blood pooling under JJ’s busted lip making him wince and her heart tighten. “It’s fine Princess. Takes two to tango remember?” JJ’s voice came out raspy, strained by the pain creeping through his body. His eye squinted, groaning at the uncomfortable throbbing coming from his side. John B had managed to get him quite good but she was right, he wanted to get hit. He wanted to be numb, his guilt could subside knowing that his best friend was able to take out the heartbreak and anger he felt on him.

(Y/N) shook her head though, standing up with the weight of her actions crushing her shoulders. If there was any remedy to this situation, it was to cut herself out of the equation completely. How would they be able to fix anything when just her presence caused these emotions to rupture out of them? She would always be a lingering reminder of their infidelity. Her head tilted to the side, watching Pope and Kie attempt to calm John B. She hadn’t even noticed until now that Kie’s cheeks were as wet as hers. It was just as agonizing to her to see their unit be torn apart. Pope was rattled, feeling powerless to stop them. They had had arguments and fist fights before about nonsense, but nothing this serious. He hadn’t even been able to get in the middle without being injured himself. It was all too much to take in. They were all perfectly fine before she arrived, and now they were more shattered than ever.

JJ observed her features the whole time, was privy to the way she detached herself emotionally to save the rest of them. But he didn’t want her to. He was selfish and greedy, willing to beg John B for forgiveness the rest of his life if it meant that (Y/N) didn’t run away. “(Y/N), hey,” his voice was still rough, but there was an edge of distress. She couldn’t take sole blame for the eruption their behavior had caused. But nothing he could say would really change her mind. There was a distant look in her eye when she focused on him.

He couldn’t even get another word out before she was turning her back to him walking away from them, from her life. Her shoulders were shaking, the reality of her consequences settling in. Her hand moved to cover her silent choked sob, free arm wrapping around herself to grace herself with some comfort. JJ wouldn’t give up on her without putting forth effort though. A beating he could take. Letting her slip through his fingers was something he couldn’t afford. Not when he finally had her.

Had her smiling and laughing at his stupid jokes. He could still hear her sweet giggling in his ear. See the heart-melting smile taking over her alluring features. Had seen her sleeping serenely in the coziness of her insanely overpriced California king, lips parted with a little bit of drool sneaking out. He’d had the privilege of bathing with her, exploring every luxurious inch of skin while quelling the ache in her bones. She had washed his damn hair. The feeling of her careful fingers on him in such an innocent yet intimate moment still drove him mad. The scent of her fruity cshampoo resided, mixing in with the dirt covering his backside as an encouragement to follow her.

“(Y/N), stop,” JJ managed to get out as he stood up at the same time holding his side with one hand where it seemed to hurt the most. The girl didn’t listen to him though, she kept walking with more intent to distance herself. The others were looking on but nothing else was said. John B turned around, refusing to watch any longer as he went back into his home to bitterly find the First Aid Kit. Kie wanted to step toward JJ to check on him but he rushed off, walking as fast he could to reach (Y/N). Pope placed a hand on Kie’s shoulder sighing before nudging her inside. Nothing would be resolved within two days.

(Y/N) ignores his voice calling out to her, shutting out every emotion related to JJ possible. She could return to her ice queen status, embody it once more to bury the agony and enter a state of desolation. But he was persistent, walking after her even as she got further and further away from the house. “(Y/N),” JJ’s voice was calm from behind her but she shook her head trying to will away the oncoming rampage of tears. They had started from the moment the boys started throwing fists and now they had a life of their own. “Hey- I.. I can take you home, you don’t have to walk or get a ride,” JJ tried to pull her back to him by any means but she stopped dead in her tracks. He hadn’t even realizing he was gaining on her until almost running into her when she came to a halt.

“No JJ. Don’t you get it?” she asked without hesitancy as she shifted to face him. JJ saw nothing in her eyes, no glint or glimmer, no hope for their possible future. “We can’t see each other anymore. We hurt people when we’re together JJ,” (Y/N) was stoic, refusing to instill JJ with any false hope. There was no world where they could be an item. Where they could cuddle in front of their friends. Go on double dates. Marry with a best man if it came down to that. As much as she wanted to let go of everything and melt into his stupidly perfect lips, she remained passive. Refusing to acknowledge the love she so obviously felt for him and choosing to endure the pain that would no doubt find a permanent home within her. (Y/N) locked it all away, tucking it deep into a place where it couldn’t reach her.

JJ’s Adam’s apple bobbed while his nose scrunched up, shaking his head in refusal. He looked off into the distance before meeting her stare. His throat felt dry, constricting from the fear accumulating the more she pulled away. “It’s not just sex to me (Y/N),” JJ repeated the words from last night, watching as something flashed through her eyes. “I meant that. And you meant what you said. About you wanting me,” JJ reminded taking a shaky step forward before saying fuck all and reaching his hands up to cradle (Y/N)’s cheeks in his hand. He gave her a torturously sad smile, fingers tracing the lines of her cheekbone. “You remember, last night in the bathtub too. I know you do,” he whispered, coming in closer to her, enveloping her senses.

He almost had her for a moment, (Y/N)’s brain cells mushing when he admitted that he did remember his late night confession. JJ’s pure vulnerability and the slightly forceful grip on her cheeks allowed her to rethink for a moment, consider the possibility that they could somehow fix this together. Her own admission had been a forthcoming revelation. More than JJ could’ve imagined when he brought it up. His blue eyes pierced through her, shaky hand gripping at his wrist. It was overwhelming, almost suffocating to be tempted in such a way. Her eyes closed. Knowing the way he was silently begging her every way possible would make her cave.

“It was sex… I was horny and you were too,” (Y/N) didn’t feel like she was in her body as the words came out. Her voice monotone and quiet. He was close enough for her to not have to yell it out. “This was nothing,” she continued even as she felt his hands drop from her face. It was daunting, so much so that she refused to see the destruction she was surely executing. Her heart was close to vanishing, entire body going numb. Not only was she losing a second person in the span of twenty four hours, but she was also losing her person. The one person she thinks might’ve been meant for her.

But JJ needed her to face it. He needed her to take in every single aspect of what this meant. (Y/N) wasn’t just taking a break from them, she was leaving. Closing the chapter on their summer together and ending something that had just barely gotten started. “Nothing? I think you’re a liar,” JJ’s temper was rising with her, loathing how she could let her overthinking take control of her life. “I think we’ve both known it since the moment we met. This is real and you’re just fucking scared,” his voice raised, finally showing his disdain for her choices.

(Y/N) dared to open her eyes which was something she’d regret till the end of time. JJ’s face had completely fallen. Her insides twisted, knotting and curling until she wanted to turn around and let out all the contents in her stomach. Which were actually none but eating right now sounded like a joke. The light in his blue irises that attracted (Y/N) to him in the first place had dimmed now. Disrupted by her hasty disregard. His lips were in a thin line, hands balled at his sides, chest rising and falling with every excruciating breath. It took everything inside of her to turn her heart to stone. Telling herself it was for the best.

“I’m sorry JJ,” she finalized the conversation.

Turning away from him and putting this singular moment behind herself.

Allowing herself to believe that they would be better off without her meddling.

The flood resumed down her cheeks now that he couldn’t see her disappearing into the following street. In the very back of (Y/N)’s mind, the little spot reserved for JJ, she still wished he’d chase her once more. Nudge her his way with his electrifying touch, kiss her until it felt like there was a volcano erupting inside of her. She’d say yes to the ride this time. She’d allow him to hold her in bed and soak his shirt with her tears. Even stay the night and every night after for as long as he needed to.

But none of that happened.

There were no footsteps besides her rapidly paced ones. (Y/N) wanted to say she was relieved, but it felt more like the entire universe had disintegrated. Her lungs felt like they were tied and knotted with rope, only able to take shallow breaths. A choice that took her all of two seconds before she was regretting had transformed everything.

If (Y/N) had thought any of this would be easy, the red baseball cap perched on top of her grey chair sent her into another meltdown, knees buckling to the ground with no one to catch her this time.

She’d lost them all.

*****

Read Part 1 here

Feedback/Thoughts welcomed in my inbox! x

If you’d like to be tagged in future posts of this mini-series please join my taglist here🫶🏼

A/N: I’ve literally never written blood play or subspace so I hope I did it justice😭 Don’t know what got into me but possessive JJ is just everything😩

I have another work in my drafts but it’s an anon request so part 3 will be coming later on❤️

Thank you so much for reading whether you came for the smut or plot😭😂! Please like, reblog, and comment if you enjoyed it!💕

John B’s Mini Series Tags: @fishingirl12 @sweetlikerockcandy @imtired0811

General Tags: @dropperyourhnd @leclercch16 @kys4-20

[violetsiren90]

Make Me

Pairing: dom!Hoseok/sub/brat!f!Reader

Genre: Oneshot; hard smut; platonic(?) fluff; BDSM lifestyle; friends to fwb to?; canon-compliant (idolAU)

Summary: You've been friends with Hobi for years, and he's your comfort zone - but when he gets wind of a dark secret you drunkenly let slip, things between you take a sudden extreme change.

Warnings: 18+ (minors, dni); hardcore BDSM themes/relationships; full consent and safe-words ❤; Hobi is a hard dom (and such a good one); MC is a brat (mostly); dominance and submission; elements of primal play if you squint; mentions of wet dreams and sexual fantasies; sexual degradation (deg-play use of the word "b*tch"); mentions of MC's hair and hair pulling in a domination context; rough physical contact in a sexual context (manhandling); mentions of drinking; kink-outing; Jimin is a menace but also the absolute best; Hobi in the studio 👀; wrestling (sexual context); spanking (sexual context); p*ssy-stepping; p*ssy slapping; sexual frustration; some initial shame and embarrassment (reader needs to work some things out); reader tries to run away from herself a bit; temporary ghosting; working through new desires and feelings; dirty dancing; ALL the communication; establishment of sexual roles/partnership; talk about birth control and protection; Hobi curses a LOT during domination scenes; leash/collar play; oral sex (male receiving); throat fucking; Hobi slaps Reader's tongue with his c*ck; cum swallowing; aftercare; restraint play (sex swing, heehee 😈); manual clitoral stimulation; teasing; unprotected vaginal sex (reader is on birth control & previously consents); female orgasm from vaginal penetration; very brief implication of a possible brush with subspace.

Word Count: ~16,000 (Double its originally intended length, oops 🙈)

Author's note: HOLY HECK IT'S FINALLY HERE. When I say I had the time of my life writing this...like, wow. I was already under Hobi's spell, but now I am OFFICIALLY down in the worst way. This fic and its premise were completely out of my comfort zone, but I couldn't be happier that I ventured into this world, because the research alone has given me so much respect for the BDSM community, and specifically the dom/sub relationship. I hope I did as much justice to that very special dynamic as possible between these two characters (with whom I have deeply fallen in love). If you read this, I hope so very much that you enjoy it!

If no one has told you yet today, you are loved and worthy of love! 🧜‍♀️💜

Acknowledgements: The biggest of thanks to @orchidyoonkook who not only beta-read this fic multiple times, and is practically the voice of this Jimin, but also gave me so much wonderful insight into the BDSM community from that big sexy brain of hers (which contains an incredible amount of knowledge about so many things, let me tell you!). But most of all, she gave me the encouragement I needed to get this out of my imagination and onto the page, even when I was doubting myself the most. Yoons, I love you! Couldn't have done it without you. 💕

"What?" Hoseok's wide grin stretches further as he regards your flustered face with giddy anticipation.

     You groan into your hands, willing the cushions of your friend's leather couch to swallow you like quicksand.

     "Fucking Jimin - I'll kill him!" you whine, pressing your fingers to your temples, and keeping your eyes glued to the hardwood of the studio floor.

     The rapper laughs as he swivels his baseball cap to sit backwards on his fluffy brown mop of hair. 

     "Come on! Tell me!" he insists, sprawling back in his rolling chair, the tips of his fingers touching deviously together as he regards you with twinkling eyes. 

You sneak a glance at him before sighing defeatedly, which only earns another chortle of laughter from across the room.

     Park fucking Jimin. You really were going to kill him. Too many bottles of soju the week prior saw you blacking out at the BTS member's pad, the one he shared with your mutual friend, Jung Hoseok. You woke up the next day, memories of the night before obscure concepts of debauchery merely alluded to by the taste of bile and the dull cranial throb of dehydration. When Jimin rather gleefully handed you, along with an iced americano, one of the booze-fueled revelations you had let slip, you begged and pleaded with him to erase the memory from his brain...or at the very least to take it to his grave. He made no such promises. And now, you are facing the man of the hour - the subject of your divulgement - who had apparently been informed that you harbored certain strong opinions in his regard. Humiliating.

     You flick mildly irritated eyes back up to your friend who waggles his brows in a way that makes you want to crack a smile and sock him at the same time.

     "Before I say anything, I want to know exactly what he told you," you demand, crossing your arms defensively, no cracked smile to be found.

     He rolls his eyes up to the corner of the ceiling in recollection.

     "He just said that you had gotten wasted and admitted something kinky...about me." 

     At the last two words he drops his voice dramatically low and pins you with a grin that is sickeningly predatory. Your pulse begins to hammer and you have to remind yourself that you are, in fact, capable of speech. 

Fuck, you think to yourself, it's happening. 

You can feel sweat starting to bead at your hairline. Maybe if you get it out there, just say it aloud, it will lose its power. Maybe the spell will be broken. Maybe he will laugh and you will laugh and you'll order lunch and keep irritating him while he's supposed to be working on a track. You're both adults, right? You whoosh out a breath. 

     Hobi is still looking at you, his bottom lip pushing up and the corners of his mouth tugging down in one of his little inverted smirks while his right leg bounces a little up and down.

It is just Hobi, after all, you tell yourself. Just Hobi. You are roundly aware that it may be a lie, but it seems to allow you just enough courage to jump.

     "Okay, okay!" you practically shout, and he giggles and stomps his feet, which admittedly makes revealing this particular chestnut a bit easier.

     "I told him…

“What?”

“I said..."

     "What?"

     "Oh, Christ! Fine!" And the rest comes out like water from a fire hose. "One time I came to drop off Jimin's charger and you were in dance practice and you were watching the guys and you had this look on your face - like you were pissed or something - and it was so unlike you and I got turned on and ended up having a fucking wet dream that you were stepping on my mother-fucking pussy, okay?! Are you satisfied now?!"

     You heave a sigh and throw yourself back against the cushions, hands over your face. How you just mustered the courage to form those actual words you haven't even the faintest notion - but it was going to be you or Jimin, and it might as well be you. After your heart has begun to return to its resting rate and you've heaved a few deep breaths you steel yourself against the certain impending onslaught of Hobi's laughter and general mockery...which doesn't come. 

You peek through your fingers to see that your friend has shifted in his chair, facing a bit away from you toward the inside of the room, leaning forward, his hands gripping the ends of the chair's armrests. His face looks a little troubled, or pensive, you can't tell which. You sit up and really look at him, suddenly worried. 

Did you just fuck things irrevocably up? 

That was an incredibly bizarre and intimate thing to admit. 

Shit.

     "Hobi?" you squeak, barely over a whisper, as you regard him.

     He tilts his head suddenly to look at you, quick like a bird, and when those dark eagle-eyes regard you in return, you feel like a small, helpless creature scurrying across the tundra. Nowhere to hide. A bead of sweat escapes its perch and slips down from your temple. As he utters his question of response, the air suddenly becomes as thick as the tropics.

     "Is that something that you'd want, Y/n? To be treated like that? To be...put in your place? Put down?"

     You don't answer him. You can't.

Your words, your breath, your coherent thoughts are stuck, inert, useless as your chest begins to rapidly rise and fall in heavy swells. Your eyes are locked on his face as if by magnetic force. He stands, his baggy Louis Vuitton tee falling over his gray sweats. He shoves his hands in the pockets and takes a step toward where you sit. His posture is relaxed. His gaze is anything but.

    "Is it?"

    You want to say you don't know. That you'd never considered it again. Never once recalled the image of it - of him - standing over you as the sole of his shoe punished your throbbing sex.

     "Fuck..." you breathe, and when he doesn't take his eyes from your squirming form, you relent. "...y-yeah."

     He takes another step toward you, slowly. He's crowding you now, as he looks down, and the proximity is almost more than you can bear.

     "You see," he remarks musingly, "I thought you were gonna say something funny - something ridiculous," he tilts his head to one side, the faintest hint of a smirk on his lips, "But that's not funny, Y/n. No, that's not funny at all. Because, as it turns out..."

     He leans down, his breath fanning over your face as he speaks. Mint and espresso. You shiver and close your eyes.

     "...that's something I can do."

...what? He can...h-he can....

     "Hoseok..." you whisper shakily, because it's all you can manage.

     You hear him laugh darkly and you don't look at him.

     "Hoseok?" he mimics, "Not, Hobi, huh? Hoseok when you're like this, is it?" 

     "When I'm like...what?" You practically whimper in complaint, eyes still pressed shut as your last line of defense.

     But any manner of defense is in vain as he answers your query, the words dripping from his lips slowly like honey, sickly like venom - 

     "When you're a filthy, pathetic little slut."

     A whine escapes you at the complete and utter shock of his words. Suddenly you clamp your thighs together – whether to provide friction or obscurity to your quickly dampening cunt you are unsure. When he takes your jaw between his fingers and roughly jerks your chin upwards, your eyes flutter frantically open. 

     "Is this what you want?" he hisses, "For me to have my way with you like a needy whore?"

Fuck, is this happening? This is really happening. Your mind reels, but that's alright - it stopped doing the thinking when he got up out of that chair. Something primal in you had taken over, something that's been starving for so long – something that yearns to feed.

     You do your best to nod with your chin in his grip. He swallows thickly, his eyes darting to your lips, and then back up to yours. His pupils are blown, his eyes almost wholly black as they trace over your face. Suddenly his hand slips from your chin to the nape of your neck where his hand tangles in your hair and his head drops to the side, his gaze softening.

     "I need you to say it, Y/n, are you sure you want to do this?" he asks, his voice so, so low but without the edge that sends ice through your veins. 

His voice. He's asking you as someone who cares about you, cares what you want – your friend. 

Do you want this? No...you don't want it. You need it.

     "Y-yes! Yes, Hobi - I want this," you find yourself stumbling over the words to get them out.

     So quickly and so assured. Have you ever been this certain of anything in your life? His fingers dance against the nape of your neck and you sigh as his eyes travel all over your body.

You want to hide. You want to strip down. You want to run and you want him to chase you. You want him to punish you when he catches you. You are sick with want.  

     "A safe word, baby, we need a safe word," he nudges your racing mind back into the current moment with his saccharine words.

     You blink, your mind running up against the sudden pet name – one that he has never uttered in a tone like this before – as it scrambles for something obvious and yet not ridiculous. Something simple maybe...a flower...?

     "Foxglove," you say, and he raises his brows with a grin.

     "Foxglove it is," he acquiesces. "So if you ever want me to stop, ever – okay? You say that. Foxglove." 

     You nod.

     "Say it for me," he whispers, and you shiver again. Fuck.

     "Foxglove." It's slow and thick leaving your mouth.

     "Good girl," he purrs. Butterflies erupt in your rib-cage and your eyelids flutter. "How hard do you want it?" He asks, "How rough?"

     You scramble to find your voice.

     "Pretty rough, I think," you posit, a bit unsure of what that means.

     He hums in response, his brows knitting in thought. You were going to have to give him something to go on, you could see that.

     "I..." you stammer, "I want you to...to punish me. I want you to...to hurt me a little."

     He raises a brow - looks at you, just stares as if considering. Then suddenly you know what to say.

     "See...I'm not a good girl," you insist tilting your head back a bit haughtily, a bit defiantly. Being a good girl had gotten you butterflies, but that's not what you wanted right now. That's not what every cell of your body was screaming for.

  He's grinning wickedly again - his other hand is slipping out of his pocket and the one in your hair is gripping at the roots.

     "Hm. You're not are you?" he asks, his voice as dark and cold as the Pacific once again.

     "No, Hobi," you whisper. 

And suddenly your world is tilted on its axis as he tightens his fingers against your scalp and yanks your head back, sending a searing pain shooting through your skin as he stoops to hiss in your ear.

     "That's Hoseok, you pretty little bitch."

     You let out a whimper so needy it's nearly a sob. Your heartbeat is pounding between your legs. He lets go of your hair as roughly as he grabbed it and goes to lock the door and your stomach flips - you are totally and completely at his mercy. It's a little bit terrifying and absolutely exhilarating.

When he comes to loom over you again, you decide just exactly where you stand in all this. You know exactly what you want.

You glare up at him. He narrows his eyes.

     "You gonna listen, hm?"

It's not a question, you know it's not - it's a command. But you have one, just one, of your own...

     "Make me."

     His eyes go wide and wild.

     "So that's how it's gonna be?"

     The words are heavy and dark, but you think his mouth twitches up at the corner when you arch a recalcitrant brow in response.

     He hums and licks his lips, and you're on the verge of saying something about getting on with it when his hand darts out and fists a chunk of your hair, yanking it back with a force that makes your head spin. He's glaring down at you with eyes so hard and menacing that your rebuttal dies on your tongue. The hand at your nape squeezes and the pressure that seers your scalp is exquisite, spilling a moan from your lips as your arousal becomes more than you are capable of repressing.

     "Don't you challenge me, brat," he rumbles from low in his chest as his hand twists against your head and lowers your back to press against the black leather.

     You whine in protest, and your palms fly up to shove at him, but his reflexes are like lightning as he snatches your wrists away to pin them above you. Your head spins, eyes losing focus as your whole body flushes with warmth in the wake of his domineering aggression. 

     You wriggle in his hold, relishing in how his grip tightens and the cold steel in his eyes glints as you resist him.

     A knee slides between your legs as he leans over you menacingly, close enough for the padlock charm around his neck to lightly tap your raised chin. Good girl, it seems to whisper in Hoseok's voice, stay put.

     Yeah, fuck that.

     You snatch the necklace up between your teeth and yank it to the side where it bites sharply into the corner of your mouth.

     The sudden motion catches him off guard and he falters, crashing down on top of you with a noise of surprise and losing control of your hands.

     You scramble against him, rolling both of you to the floor with a thud.

     Your heart is hammering in your chest.

     You hear him grunt, his strong hands grappling with your thrashing form, and you catch just a glimpse of his shining eyes and white clenched teeth as he flips you over onto your stomach, hands in a vice grip at the small of your back and your cheek pressing into the cold, hard laminate.

     You start to move again but he pushes his weight into the slender fingers splayed over your spine with a low rumble in the back of his throat and you still with a groan.

     You're pressed so deliciously firmly to the floor. You can feel arousal soaking your panties as your nerves alight everywhere he has wrested control of you. You can hear him pant, proof of his efforts, and the image of his provoked expression from seconds previous flashes through your mind.

He seemed so cool and collected before. So unbothered. To think that his blood is up and because of you? You let out a trembling breath.

     "Fuck," he hisses lowly, then bends to bring his lips to the shell of your ear.

They're soft as they drag over your skin there, feather light. Your whole body shakes, and you feel his mouth pause.

     "I don't know who the hell you think you are," he whispers cruelly, "But you were right about one thing...you're not a good girl. You're a disobedient little harlot who needs to be taught the rules of this house." 

      You whimper pathetically as he presses into you even more intensely, restricting the expansion of your lungs.

     "Now," he says nosing at your exposed neck as he begins to pull away, "how about we teach you a lesson or two, hm?"

     You feel his weight leave your back, and see his figure rock back on his heels out of the corner of your eye. You are just on the verge of retaliating again when you let out a yelp at the sudden shock of your hips being yanked upward by the back belt loop of your denim shorts. Hoseok lets go of your hands and they fly forward to brace yourself as your ass raises into the air and your knees move toward your chest.

     And all at once you know what's coming and you feel your pussy clench in the mere anticipation of -

     Smack!

     You let out a wanton wail as the sharp crack of his hand against your right glute jolts through your body like a lightning strike and ends with a slam at your swollen clit.

     Again - harder! Your mind screams. So you press out a whinging moan of complaint.

     SMACK!

     It has the desired effect.

     CRACK!

     Your jaw is slack, but no sound escapes as he punishes you. It hurts. Fuck, it hurts. As if he's attempting to brand your ass with the shape of his hand. But holy hell is it making you drip. Every slap jolts your body and brings the tiniest friction to where you're neediest. Where you've never been needier in your life.

     Please punish my pussy....

     You try to mumble the words but all you can do is drool onto the floor as he deals out pleasure and pain from above.

     And then he stops. You feel hands deftly and swiftly rolling you to lie on your back.

You blink up through bleary eyes, drawing a hand across your mouth to wipe the spit away. Your shoulders are sore.

     He's leaning over you, a hand still on your hip, eyes scanning your face.

     "What? Did you say something? You need to speak up."

     His tone is still biting but his eyes seem to hold a genuine question. Concern.

     Warmth floods your chest as it registers that he wants to be able to hear you if you need him to. If you want to stop. But the light has never been so goddamned green.

     "Want..." you murmur, "...more, Hoseok."

     He curses, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he leans forward to take your jaw in his hand again. He rakes his gaze over your soft, swollen features, unfocused eyes, and heaving chest.

     "Look at you so fucked out and all I did was smack that gorgeous ass." 

     He licks his lips, shaking his head in seeming disbelief as he releases your chin with a little shove. He leans back, dragging his hands over your bare thighs.

    "More, hm?" he hums. 

     You nod eagerly.

     He purses his lips and considers you through narrowed eyes, and you sense that if you want him to give you what you so desperately desire, you're going to have to show him you can take it - and take orders. You lay still, hands twitching at your sides as you look up at him through wide eyes. 

     He continues to run his fingertips up and down your legs as he breathes out a long relenting sigh.

     "Alright," he relents, "You took your punishment well, so you should be rewarded, I suppose."

     You clamp your bottom lip between your teeth, your heart rate rising again at the prospect.

     He tilts forward, looming over you again as he asks the question you've been dying to answer since you woke up breathless all those weeks ago.

     "What does my little brat want me to do to her? Let's see if she can use her words."

     You blink up at him, unsure if you have permission to speak...or how to put your request into words that won't make you want to immediately melt through the floorboards.

     "Cat got your tongue?" Hoseok sneers, pretty, heart-shaped lips curling up at one side.

     His hat discarded in your tussle, wavy brown tresses hang down over his brow and his eyes sparkle darkly through them. His features are so beautiful - their loveliness thrown into sharp relief by the flinty pitilessness of their expression.

     You're tempted to continue simply soaking him in, if not for the pounding ache in your core demanding that you find your voice.

     "I...I want..." your lips tremble as you will yourself to tell him what you need.

     Perhaps he senses that you require a little encouragement, because his eyes harden and he digs the edges of his nails into the flesh of your knees, causing you to yelp and moan and then...

     "I want you to step on my pussy! Please..." You press out your request with the last of the breath in your lungs.         

     Hoseok's eyes flutter shut at the last word of your plea.

     "Say that again," he commands in a husky whisper, and even without further specification, somehow, you know.     

     "Please..." You groan, letting your legs drop open demurely.

     His eyes are still closed, but he can feel the action with his hands, which have now slipped just inside your knees to your inner thighs. He inhales deeply through his nose, before exhaling with a shuddering breath. When his lids languidly raise again the piercing onyx of what they have unveiled is pinning you to the floor with more deadly force than even his hands ever could. Your pulse pounds in your cunt, your head still swimming from your previous position as he pushes himself up to stand. 

     As you blink up at Hoseok towering over you, standing between your splayed thighs with his midnight gaze boring into the damp denim covering your heat, something inside you long ajar quietly but firmly clicks into place. 

     "Tell me, brat" he seethes, eyes roving your trembling form stretched out beneath him, "Who makes the rules in this house?"

     "Hoseok-ssi," you whimper, so needy the ache is beginning to hurt.

     Every cell of your body is awake with a desperate anticipation that only he can satisfy...or deny.

     You have never felt more alive.

     And then something happens and your brain shuts off entirely. 

Everything vanishes: the studio, the traffic outside the western window, the city of Seoul and South Korea and the whole goddamned planet rolling around in the Milky Way. Nothing exists except the tip of Hoseok's Air Jordan ghosting over the swell of your crotch. 

     Your mouth waters as his foot slowly slides forward, then goes completely dry as you feel it settle with the sole aligned directly with your slit. His eyes flick up to your face, but you can't hold his gaze for more than a millisecond as he begins to apply pressure to your mound.

     Your eyes roll back in your skull, head lolling as your neck goes slack, lips parted in a silent scream as the man above you presses down with a low hum over your sex. The seam of your shorts is biting deliciously into the tender flesh of your clit, sending shockwaves through your core like a live wire, and when he rolls his foot in a circular motion you think you see god. 

You do scream then, but it's nothing more than a strangled sound in your throat as your fantasies materialize and he leans his weight into his stance, punishing the soft fat of your cunt with the sole of his shoe.

     You're going to cum. He's barely touched you and you're going to cum. He seems to see it in the twisted ecstasy of your features as his lids hood his eyes and filth begins to spill from his lips.

     "Do you like that, brat?" he taunts, "That's what you get when you're a good little girl for Hoseok -  you get your pretty wet cun-"  

     Click jangle clack - boom boom boom! 

     Hobi springs away from you, hopping back on one foot with wide eyes as a succession of rapid knocks follow the stilted motions of the locked door handle. You scramble up from the floor, heart pounding and breath coming fast as you toss yourself into the corner of the couch. 

     Boom, boom, boom!

     "Hyung, are you naked or something?" comes a familiar if muffled voice from the other side of the wall.

     You fumble for your phone and Hoseok runs a hand through his hair and takes a deep breath before pulling open the door.

     The man belonging to the impatient knocks and muffled accusations stumbles headlong into the studio, the locked entrance against which he had pressed his ear and most of his weight having been pulled out from under him.

"Jimi...nie...?" Hobi greets his bandmate and his eyes track the other's toppling form with surprise and a hint of agitation. 

     Yoongi ambles in casually behind him, sipping a dewy americano through a straw, a beanie sitting atop his ashy locks gnomishly.

     Jimin nimbly pushes himself to a stand from where he had crashed against Hobi's desk, not a strand of his coiffed platinum blond hair askew as he spins around face to the dance captain. But before he can get out a greeting or an excuse for his manner of entrance he freezes as he spots you in the corner.

His eyes flick to Hobi's hat on the floor, then to the pink flush on the apples of his friend's cheeks. When Jimin's eyes slide back over to where you are curled into your nook, eyeing him warily over the tiny shield of your phone, his plush lips slowly spread into a sickeningly devious smile.

     Hobi scoops his hat up off the floor and tugs in back on before taking a seat, carefully, you notice - thighs pressed together and leaning forward - in his rolling chair. The implication of his posture has you sweating into your shirt.

You need to get it the fuck together.

     "If I would have known you were here I'd have brought you a kimbap," Jimin says, wicked grin still plastered on his face as he holds up a plastic convenience store bag.

     You blink. 

     "Oh, uh, that's okay..." you bluster, waving your hand. "I'm not hungry anyway." 

     It's true. You just lost your appetite for the foreseeable future, stomach a raging sea of nerves as Jimin places the bag on the desk.

     Yoongi shuffles over to sit at the other end of the couch, raising his free hand and drawing his mouth into a straight line in greeting. You manage your own tight-lipped grin and flash him a peace sign, hoping you did it quickly enough that the tremor in your hand went unnoticed.

     "To what do I owe this visit from my bros?" Hobi asks from where he's turned toward his computer screen to save the neglected file. 

His voice is cheerful, but you can hear the strain - how it's pitched just half a tone too high - and Jimin's eyes are still on you.

     "I dragged Yoongi hyung out for some fresh air. I took him to lunch and grabbed you a snack on the way back."

     "Yah, you took me to lunch? Then why did I pay?" Yoongi grumbles from beside you, his bare features pinched into a grumpy pout that makes him look particularly feline.

     "Because you love me," Jimin coos at him and the older musician's mouth quirks up into a smile he can't seem to repress. 

     "What are you working on, Hoba? Which track?" Yoongi murmurs around the straw between his lips, blinking patiently as Hobi seems to shake himself, pulling his hat off to run a hand through his hair before readjusting it on his head and swiveling back toward his computer screen.

     He hits play on the track and Yoongi leaves the couch to join the other two.

     This is all so normal, so typical of the guys - the affectionate repartee and chat about ongoing projects. And on an average day, you'd have joined right in. 

But today is not an average day. 

No.

Five minutes ago, you were spread-eagle on the floor six inches from where Jimin stands, with Hoseok's shoe on your bits.

     You have to get out of here.

     "I'm, uh, I'm gonna head out, boys," you muster, making a beeline for the door as soon as the inertia of your decision gives you the courage to peel yourself from the corner of the couch.

     "You're leaving?" Jimin's voice quips in a saccharine whine, with the slightest edge that makes you avoid his eyes as you slip out with a parting wave.

You do catch Hoseok's expression, whose head snaps up at your parting movements. His brows furrow and his lips part, looking as if he wants to say something, but he doesn't.

     And then you're gone.

    Your smart watch trills as your heart rate enters cardio territory. Your chest is heaving, breath coming heavy as the pliant cushion of your couch gives way to the crown of your head pressing back into it, eyes pinched shut and hand shoved down your pants. 

The bullet vibrator you have pressed to your clit is doing everything it should, and you feel it coming - your orgasm. 6:12pm on a Tuesday and it's already your third self-love session of the day. 

You tense your thighs, urging the building pressure in your core to boil over, and quickly. You groan and grit your teeth as your administering hand starts to shake. You writhe and whimper for a moment. And then it's over.

     You stare up at the ceiling of your apartment, breathlessly huffing out a despondent sigh as the empty ache in your chest returns. It has become your loathsomely devoted companion in every waking moment over the last ten days, filling you with an unshakable restlessness and sickly discontent.

     Nothing can slake it. Not reality TV. Not Cabernet Sauvignon. Not overtime hours. Not ASMR wood-soup videos. Not yoga. Not Ben and Jerry's. Not midnight runs on your NordicTrack. Not fucking yourself to climax on every single goddamned toy you own. 

     The little monster you roused the weekend before last in Hope World hasn't returned to sleep. No. She is wide awake. And she seems to grow more ravenous with each passing day. 

At first you tried to ignore her, but she kept you up into the long, bleak hours of the night. And so, in a fuzzy, staticky haze some time after midnight a number of days ago you typed some words into a search engine that would probably have your assigned FBI agent doing a spit-take.

     The thing is, you'd never seen "50 Shades of Grey", you'd never been interested. It wasn't as if you were a prude - hardly! You have always enjoyed sex, both intimate and recreational. In fact, it has always been one of your favored methods of blowing off steam, and you knew quite well how to please yourself and how to guide partners in doing the same.

     You have never had problems in taking what you wanted in life, in taking charge and ensuring that things play out your way – it's what makes you so good at your job, and valued by your peers who know that they can rely on you to take the reins and rise to the occasion.

     So when you suddenly stumbled unprepared into the world of BDSM, your visceral reaction to the concept of submission left you wondering...why?

Why, why, why? 

Why does this do it for you? Why did your very linear, stable existence have to be completely disrupted by this discovery? And most urgently of all, why, for the love of everything sacred, did all the porn in the whole wide world fail to accomplish even a fraction of the effect of Jung Hoseok's size 9 sneaker? It's all too overwhelming to process.

     You let out a frustrated whine as you pull your sticky, cramped hand, still clutching the little purple bullet, from the confines of your pants. Your phone buzzes on the coffee table and you can see the notification is from Jimin. You've been ignoring his calls and pleading texts to meet up, or just pick up. You can't face him. Not after ghosting Hobi.

     You feel a pang twist in your stomach as you haul yourself toward the shower, hoping the hot water will wash away the guilt you feel for ignoring Hoseok outright. He texted you almost immediately after you left the studio, asking if you were alright. You let him know that you were, with just one word: yeah.

     You had typed and retyped that response. "Yeah, thanks" seemed too weird. Like, thanks for what? Almost making you cum with the tip of his shoe? No. "Yeah, sorry" felt pathetic. What were you apologizing for? It seemed to imply...regret? Or fault. Neither of which would have come from a genuine place. And beyond a simple affirmation, you certainly didn't have words. So, "yeah" it was. He tried to call you later that evening, but you didn't pick up. You were already way up in your head by then. It had been radio silence since.

     You toss a coconut steamer onto the wet shower tiles and sigh, catching a glimpse of your face in the bathroom mirror as you slide the glass door shut.

     "Coward," you mutter as you close your eyes and slip under the cleansing stream.

     You're wrapped up in a blanket cocoon and sipping a cup of sleepy-time tea, trying to distract yourself from the messy tangle of emotions waging war across your various chakras with season two of Single's Inferno, when a knock on the door startles you out of your simmering reverie. You heave yourself off the carpeted floor of your living room and scoot toward the door like a fleecy Jabba the Hutt to peek through the peephole.

     Your vision is obscured as another eye looks back at you from the other side of the concave glass. You jump back, dropping your blanket shroud in a pile around your feet and let out a yelp of alarm. You slam a hand over the peep hole as giggles erupt on the other side.

     "Yah! I know you're in there - so let me in!"

     Your entire body sags against the door in relief as you recognize the voice of the would-be intruder. You swing the door open to grant him exasperated entrance.

     "Park Jimin, you just took ten years off my life! Creep," you bluster, gathering the blanket up around your body as you retreat back into your apartment. 

You plop down again in front of the TV, knowing that Jimin came to either talk you into going out or to just talk, and either way, you are truly not in the mood. Your friend snickers behind you, sauntering into your kitchen. He returns with a beer, bringing the frosty green bottle to his lips before sinking into an armchair and regarding you with an expression that waivers between amusement, pity, and disgust.

     "You look awful," he remarks, taking another swig as his gaze roves your unkempt appearance.

     Your features twist into a frown, eyes never leaving the television.

     "You don't get to barge into my apartment, steal my booze, then insult me, Park," you snip, burrowing further down into the fluffy mass encasing your body.

     Jimin raises a brow, a small smile still playing on his lips as he follows your eyes to the television where YouTuber Dex and professional model Lim Minsu flirtatiously splash about in a ridiculously opulent indoor swimming pool.

     "Fuck, Dex is hot," Jimin mutters.

     "For some reason he reminds me of Jungkook," you smirk, glancing over at him for the first time since he arrived.

     He grimaces theatrically.

     "I don't see it."

     The contestant on the screen flashes his Paradise companion a blinding smile and raises a tattooed arm to cut through the water, content to show off his stroke precision as his date watches on. The resolve on Jimin's face falters .

     "Yeah, well...Dex is hotter."

     You scoff.

     "Yeah, no. Kook-ah is definitely hotter."

     "For the love of god, just don't tell him that, okay?" Jimin pleads, "That kid is insufferable enough these days."

     "You love him."

     He hides a smile behind another sip of Hite.

     "Why did you ghost Hobi hyung?"

     Jimin blinks innocent eyes at you, as if he hasn't just dumped the last week and a half of silent agony over your head like a bucket of ice water. But the chill is momentary, because the next second your body feels like an oven. You stammer.

     "I-I...ghost him? I didn't ghost anyone...I'm busy...I..." you trail off weakly as your friend's unimpressed and knowing gaze bores into your soul.

     You sigh and scrub your hands over your face.

     "Because I'm a big chicken, okay?" You murmur into your palms.

     You don't know why, but you feel like crying. When you pull your hands away from your face, Jimin must see it because suddenly he's on the couch wrapping you in the kind of hug that reminds you why he's your ride-or-die, and in the safety of his embrace the tears begin to fall. Days of being alone with yourself and your conflicted feelings pour from your ducts and onto the front of Jimin's bright yellow flannel. He coos words of reassurance, admonishing your tears, as he strokes your hair.

     "Talk to me, you silly goose," he hums with an endeared chuckle. 

     You sniff and hiccup as you pull away, wiping your puffy eyes.

     "I don't even know what to say, Minnie...I don't know what's wrong with me..."

     Jimin smiles and grabs a few tissues from the box on the coffee table, dabbing them against your nose.

     "Well, first of all, nothing is wrong with you. But second of all, tell me what is bothering you."

     You heave a dramatic sigh.

     "If I tell you, you have to swear - and I mean swear - that you will not make fun of me or tell anyone else. And I mean not Taehyung, not Yoongi, not anyone, you hear me?" 

     He smirks, but nods in assent. You narrow your eyes at him.

     "Say it. Out loud." You demand warily.

     Jimin rolls his eyes and throws up his hands.

     "Yah! Okay! I won't tell anyone," he quips mockingly.

     You sigh again and draw your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them. If this gets too hard to talk about with eye-contact at least you'll have a place to hide your bashful face.

      "I..." you start softly, not sure where to begin except the beginning, "Re-remember that thing I told you when we got plastered a little while back...about...Hobi?"

     Jimin's lips quirk at the corners as he nods.

     "Well...the thing is...wait!" You cut yourself off, suddenly gripped by a notion that has you prematurely flustered and indignant. "What did he tell you?"

     Jimin shakes his head, a small smile still playing on his full lips.

     "Nothing," he responds, looking you dead in the eye in a way that has you almost believing he's telling the truth. 

     "No, really," you press.

     Jimin leans back against the arm of the couch from where he faces you, running a hand through his hair and drawing his legs up to criss-cross in front of him.

     "Jagi, this is Hobi hyung we're talking about. You think he would do that? He has too much respect for you. He would never. Not to anyone. Not even me."

     Your chest floods with relief, affection, and regret. Fuck. Of course he wouldn't. He was too mature of a person for that. Too considerate. Too lovely. And you hadn't even had the gumption to speak to him for the last ten days beyond a mono-syllabic SMS. Jimin watches your expression do emotional acrobatics.

     "So..." he offers encouragingly, "something...happened....between you guys, right? That day Yoongi hyung and I showed up? We...uh...interrupted something, didn't we?" He can't help a devilish smile, eyes twinkling as he carefully phrases his query.

     You bury your face into your knees and squeak out an affirmation. Jimin lets out a bright laugh and you immediately raise your burning face in a scowl.

     "Hey! You said you wouldn't-" 

     He waves his hands in apology as he attempts to gain his composure.

     "Mianhae, mianhae! I'm not laughing at you!" He insists, leaning forward to grab your swatting hands by the wrists.

     "Sounds kind of like you are!" You huff, yanking your arms from his grasp.

     "So..." Jimin hums, tilting his head to track your gaze as you try again to hide your face, "If he's down, and you're down...what's the problem? Why did you run and hide? Did your feelings change?"

     You slowly raise your eyes to his, searching them as you decide just how much you're willing to tell him right now. You chew on your bottom lip as you realize you need to get it out. All of it. You drop your legs to mirror Jimin's posture, lowering your defenses with your millionth-and-first sigh of the evening.

     "Okay...well..." you muse, fiddling with the blanket still draped over your lap. "You know how I told you that stuff that I...dreamt...about Hobi?"

     Jimin nods.

     "Well...something did kind of happen...and well..." you trail off as Jimin raises his brows expectantly.

     "Oh, fuck it!" you bluster, exhausted by your own attempts at delicacy. "He dominated me and I liked it. I really really liked it, okay? And it freaked. me. the fuck. out. Like...I've neeeeever felt that way before about fooling around. It wasn't just fun, or, like, pleasurable...it was...almost..." you search for the words as Jimin stares at you raptly. "...Freeing? Like, a relief. Like, a 'where has this shit been all my life' moment."

     Jimin hums and nods, interlacing his fingers and leaning his chin against his knuckles.

     "Like...I don't know...I'm a very independent person. And capable. And, yeah, things have been crazy stressful at work, and I have a lot on my plate...but I handle it, you know? In fact, I don't just handle it, I kind of...enjoy the pressure of leadership and responsibility? It drives me. I've always been like that, in every area of my life..." 

     Jimin smiles and lets out a sound of recognition.

     "So the one who wears the crown is wondering why it feels so good to be...subjected?" He waggles his brows. You roll your eyes.

     "Grow up, dude."

     "Am I right, though? I'm right."

     You find yourself chewing your bottom lip again.

     "Essentially. I like power. I like control. What is this sudden obsession with losing it? It's...scary. And confusing."

     Jimin smiles. 

     "You know, it's actually not that uncommon, from what I understand," he states, reaching for his abandoned beer on the coffee table.

     You quirk an eyebrow.

    "I mean, everyone is different, and this is a journey you're going to have to take for yourself to get the answers, but from what I know about the BDSM community, it's not unusual for people who are in positions of power to crave a bit of a...reprieve."

     "Really?"

     "Yeah," he nods, reclining back again against the arm of the couch, "The bedroom is a good place to let your walls down. Maybe the only place, for some people. And with a trusted partner it can even be healing to play a different role than you do in other parts of your life."

     It's your turn to smirk.

     "You talk as if you know," you prod playfully, shoving your toes into his shin. He smiles that wicked smile of his and you laugh.

     "What I'm trying to say is, maybe it's not just about the...dynamics. Maybe it's also that it's Hobi hyung. He knows you. You know him, too. You trust each other. Maybe you could get to know each other in a new way. Be something for each other that you both need." He takes the last sip of his beer and twirls the bottle in his hands, gazing at you with a gentle thoughtfulness.

     You nod slowly, digesting his newly offered perspective.

     "So," you muse, raising your eyes to him again, "You think he needs it too?" 

     Jimin shrugs. 

     "Only he could tell you that for sure. But I do know this, he's awfully good at being bossy, and doesn't get a lot of opportunity to run the show - outside of dance practice, that is."

     Chuckling nervously at the thought, you try your best to conceal the spark that has crackled to life from the burning coals inside you at the mention of his natural command of authority. 

     "Hey," Jimin posits with a grin, "Maybe if he's spanking you he'll go a little easier on us when we screw up the choreo..."

     "EXCUSE ME THE FU-WHAT?!" You shriek, snatching up a throw pillow to beat him mercilessly as he falls in raucous laughter to the floor.

     Turning to glance over your shoulder at your reflection in the mirror, you smooth your hands over the back of the svelte black bodycon number you've donned for the evening. You're a vision in monochrome, having paired your LBD with sleek stilettos and dark smokey eyes with heavy lashes.

     Your phone buzzes, indicating that your ride share is close by. Butterflies flutter in your belly as you reach for the finishing touch to your outfit: a velvety black choker with a sliver o-ring studded in colorless topaz. It's just fashionable enough to still look like a necklace, but it gives you a bit of a thrill to know that it's not. To know what's tucked inside your purse to accompany it. To wonder if, going unnoticed by most, it will catch a certain pair of dark eyes.

     The drive across town to reach the Jihope residence never felt so long. You try your best to calm your nerves over the last few blocks of distance - it’s just a party, after all, and kind of a silly one at that. 

During Jimin's last visit, he mentioned that he and Hobi would be throwing a Black Day party for all of their single friends the following weekend, and after dodging his attempts at socialization so religiously of late, you felt you owed it to him to attend.     

     Black Day had never been something your group of friends had ever observed before, but it was incredibly chic to do so this year, for whatever reason. And of course, all the organizing duo of the soiree needed was the slightest excuse for Jimin to party and Hobi to host.

     Upon arriving at the building, you can already hear the music pumping from the top floor, and the chatter of guests spilling out onto the terrace. You present your ID to the security guard at the front gate, and are escorted to a private elevator that whisks you up to the penthouse. Being quite successful and comfortable yourself, you still find yourself surprised when reminded of the sheer net worth of your humble, down-to-earth Bangtan pals. Hobi is worth the most, and while he is an excellent investor and a generous philanthropist, he also likes to show out, and in style.

     You take a deep breath as you buzz the bell.

     The door swings open to reveal a handsome young man in a black t-shirt tucked into baggy dark-wash jeans, his fluffy brown hair parted in the middle and his ears glinting with rows of silver hoops. His round eyes scrunch into little moons and he flashes an adorable toothy grin, endearingly lopsided where it stretches deeper against the little orbital piercing at the right side of his bottom lip.

“Noona!" he growls, pulling you into a bear hug. "Where have you been? The last two times we went to noraebang there was no one to sing Through the Night with me!"   

     "Ah...hah...", you nervously chuckle, pulling away from his embrace as you search your brain for an excuse other than business.

     "I'll sing with you, Googie!"  

     You turn to see your salvation from further explanation in the form of a giggling young woman bouncing up to clutch Jungkook's arm and steady herself as she sways on her platform heels. She smells like soju and fruity perfume.

     You smirk and thank her, patting her hand where it clutches your friend's tattooed forearm before she's dragging him away down the hall.

     "Make sure she stays hydrated!" You call after him with a shake of your head, making your way through the throng of guests to the bar area. 

     The furnishings of the residence are a study in classy postmodern minimalism, punctuated with abstract urban art – though you notice that some of the Kaws pieces are missing, likely stored away for safekeeping from rowdy party-goers. 

     The sleek chrome and granite full-service bar is stocked with liquor and beer, and a commissioned mixologist is crafting darkly colored cocktails. A buffet-style spread offers the traditional jjajangmyeon and an assortment of other delicious eats.

     The spacious dining area is littered with small tables draped in black linens, each bearing centerpieces of hellebore, leather leaf, black carnations, and eucalyptus. The living room has been converted to a dance floor, complete with a glittering disco ball. House music booms through the built-in speaker system as guests in groups and pairs move to the beat.

     You glance over a drink menu of themed cocktails as a voice sounds from over your shoulder. 

     "I recommend the Down With Love."

     Turning, you flash the speaker a grin.

     "Alright, but is it giving Judy or Barbara?"

     Taehyung raises a disparaging brow.

     "It's a gimlet. Judy, obviously."

     You chuckle, putting in your order for the suggested beverage.

     "You look good," he remarks, gesturing at you with the unlit cigarette tucked between his first two fingers, his other hand slipped into his pocket as he leans against the wall.

     He doesn't look bad himself, you think, in his black satin top and flared Merlot trousers.

     "Thanks," you smile as the bartender hands over an inky concoction garnished with a grapefruit slice twisted into the shape of a heart and run through with a toothpick.

     You eye it skeptically.

     "How do they make it black?"

     "Activated charcoal. C'mon."

     Tae links your arm through his and weaves through the bustle to a table of familiar faces. Yoongi raises a whiskey tumbler in greeting and you clink your glass with his, sliding into a chair next to Taehyung and reaching over to give Namjoon's arm an affectionate squeeze. It seems that all the members have turned up, save Seokjin, who's been a taken man three years strong.

     You fall into easy conversation with the boys, and just when your difference of opinion with Namjoon over Lee Bul's latest installation piece is developing into a full-blown debate, Jimin slides up to the table and spills onto Taehyung's lap.

     "None of you are dancing!" He whines breathlessly, poking Tae's cheek as the other man smiles shyly.

     "Jungkook is," Yoongi rebuts, taking another bite of jjajangmyeon.

     He's not wrong, though to your amusement, the maknae appears to be getting danced on more than anything else.

    "Where's Hobi hyung?" Tae queries, prodding gently at Jimin's full cheek in return.

     Jimin's eyes dart to you, a smirk spreading slowly across his lips as his gaze rakes up from your heels to the choker around your neck.

     "Good question," he hums, rising to take your hand and pull you up from your seat. "Let's go find him."

     Jimin heads for the French doors at the far end of space that lead onto the terrace. They're propped open, and cool evening air floods the apartment, keeping the atmosphere from suffocating under the warmth of body heat and the scent of rich food.

     "Jimin!" You hiss, as you approach the rooftop patio, "What are you doing? This is the opposite of subtle!"

    He laughs merrily.

     "You're so cute when you're flustered!"

     You don't have any more time to grumble as you emerge under the darkening sky, just beginning to speckle with stars barely visible against the glow of string lights wrapped around the cozy outdoor enclosure. There's a small electric fire pit surrounded by plush patio furniture, and live greenery all around.

     The energy is much more relaxed than within, but even so, you feel your pulse quicken as Jimin guides you toward a small group at the corner of the terrace. You recognize a few of the men and women gathered as industry producers, but none of that really matters because all your brain can register is him.

     And holy shit does he look good.

     He's arresting sophistication and effortless elegance. A silk charcoal dress shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbow, ripples along the lines of his torso - save where the top three buttons have been neglected to expose the smooth planes of his toned chest. His lean, athletic legs seem even longer than usual in fitted black slacks, his pretty wrists and fingers sparkling with jewelry where his thumbs are slipped into his pockets. His hair has been slicked back from his face, and his eyes are just barely obscured by a pair of lightly tinted wire-rimmed aviators. That brilliant, warm heart-shaped smile cuts through all the sharp darkness of his garb, and your breath catches in your chest when Jimin calls out to him.

     "Hyung!"

     As Hoseok's eyes meet yours the grin stretched across his face falters, but he quickly regains composure.

     "Eyyy," he greets you, striding forward and wrapping his arm around your shoulders to pull you into a side hug. Of course he smells as incredible as he looks.

     "Hi, Hobi," you murmur a bit shyly, returning his embrace.

     "Hyung," Jimin pouts cutely, "Save us! She was putting our guests to sleep talking to Namjoon-ah about art theory."

     "Hey," Hobi chides in a warning tone, cocking his head to the side to glance down at you. "Don't enable the poor guy – he needs to get laid."

     "Well nobody is going to approach him if she's hanging around looking like that." Jimin gestures casually, a mischievous twinkle glinting for a moment his eye.

     Hobi's arm slips off your shoulders to grasp your hand as he steps back. He's never been good at keeping his feelings from his face, and the look trained on his features as he appraises you has you thinking you made the right decision when you put on that dress.

     "How about we keep you out of trouble and on the dance floor, hm?" Hobi says with a sly smile, raising your hand and tilting forward in a posture of invitation.

     You roll your eyes playfully, unable to bite back a smile of your own as you motion for Hobi to lead the way, careful to avoid Jimin's eyes as you let the rapper guide you back into the thrumming pulse of the festivities.

      He gently pulls you onto the dance floor and tugs you into him, keeping a hold on your right hand as he slips the other just below the curve of your waist. You settle into an easy step to the lively beat. Hobi's eyes search your face as you tilt it up to him, running a hand up his chest to adjust the collar of his shirt with a sigh. You fiddle with the soft fabric between your fingers.   

     "I'm sorry, Hobi," you murmur, just loudly enough for him to hear.

     When he just smiles a bit sadly you feel your heart squeeze and you drop your head to his chest. You will yourself not to cry as he slows his movements, slipping a knuckle beneath your chin to raise your gaze to his own.     

     "Hajima," he protests, "Let's talk later. Right now, how about we just have some fun? I missed you."

     His expression is sweet and earnest and you feel like your chest might not have room for anything more than your complete and utter affection for this man. 

     "I missed you too," you admit with a little grin, pressing yourself against him just a bit more firmly and gazing up at him through widened eyes. He blinks for a moment, and then suddenly, there it is again, blooming across his lips - that blinding gorgeous smile, and that heady, infectious laugh.

     In one quick motion, he spins you around to face away from him as the music drops to a deep, throbbing EDM number, his fingertips grazing your hips and his lips ghosting the shell of your ear.

     "You did, huh?" he purrs. "Alright, then...show me how much." 

     You suck in a breath because you don't ever think you'll be ready for how quickly he can turn that dark, deep voice in his chest into something that makes you feel like you're astral-projecting. Your first instinct is to push him away, make him take it from you...but this moment isn't for that. After your exit last time around, you’re determined to make him so incredibly certain that you want him. That you need him. 

     You lean back into him and, whispering a silent prayer of gratitude to the goddess of stilettos, press your ass firmly into his groin. You feel the air leave his lips in a hiss against your neck, and his hands slide to squeeze your hips and tug your body even deeper into his. You grind back against him as your body undulates with the hypnotic rhythm of the beat, but it's not long before he's taken over guiding the motion of your hips to match the rolls of his own. 

     Your eyelids flutter. You've never been this close to him. Sure, in the studio, things had gotten hot and heavy - but you had only been in his hands. He had only touched you to move you, still you, punish you. Now you are flush against his body, and everywhere you touch as he rocks you in tortuous waves against him tastes like the first sumptuous bite of a forbidden fruit. 

You can feel him beginning to swell against the plush of your ass, but even that isn't what has a familiar ache throbbing at the apex of your thighs – it's the effortlessness with which he wrests control of your body, your mind...your very being down to its most primal core.

     Hoseok's hand skids up your side and slips over your collarbones.

     "I like this necklace," he mumbles into your hair.

     You turn in his arms, slipping your fingers around the back of his neck as you raise your lips to his ear.

     "I'm disappointed in you, Hoseok," you tut, "It's not a necklace, you know." 

     He doesn't respond, but focuses on bringing his leg to slot between yours, hiking your dress up enough to tease your mound with brushes over the front of his thigh. You swallow a moan.

He's toying with you, but you won't give in. Not so easily. Not yet.

     "I guess you could call it a choker..." you rasp, trying to keep the tremor from your voice as your face presses into the side of his jaw, "That is more descriptive of its actual purpose, I suppose."

     For one millisecond in the fabric of time and space you feel his pace falter as the words spill from your lips - then he runs his hand up your back, slipping two fingers under the tight strip of velvet surrounding your throat.

     For the first time since you started dancing, you look at him. Crystalline beads of sweat have broken out on his brow, and his mouth is set in a stern line, his eyes hooded and dark as tugs his fingers back to command a view of your gaze.

     "Are you telling me," he grits out lowly, digging his fingers into the flesh of your hip so bruisingly you gasp, "...that you showed up to my party wearing a fucking collar?" 

     You don't answer him - instead you let a wicked smile slip over your lips, refusing defiantly to drop his piercing stare. He has stopped moving you against him, stopped moving entirely. His hands are firm but still where they hold you as his eyes bore down.

     "Are you out here trying to finish what we started?"

     You tilt your head back, narrowing your eyes seductively.

     "What do you think?"

     You watch a thousand and one thoughts race through Hoseok's mind as his eyes drop to your neck again and he swallows thickly.

     "Oh, fuck it," he hisses, turning and catching your hand to pull you impatiently through the crowd. 

     You barely have time to wonder what he's thinking or where you're headed when, at the opening to the hall, he spins to grasp your waist and tuck you into a small alcove. He does it so quickly and with such force that you nearly topple the potted plant on the stand beside you.

     He pushes himself against you, the tip of his nose brushing yours, and his firm body pressing you to the wall. He holds your wrists in his hands, pinning them to either side of your body. You let out a tiny whimper.

     His peppermint breath fans over your cheeks.

     "I was going to wait," he whispers loud enough for you to hear him clearly over the music from the room behind you. "I was going to ask you...to stay. After..." he traces his nose along the ridge of your cheekbone as he squeezes your wrists tightly, his nails nipping into your skin. "But you come here with the audacity to tease me like that? Out there, in front of everyone like a desperate little slut?" 

     His mouth is hovering over your ear as he speaks, sending shivers cascading down your spine.

     "I'm not a patient man," he mutters darkly, and you feel your pussy throb.

     You struggle slightly against his grasp, and he growls lowly. Turning into him, you press your mouth against his throat, letting your teeth graze his skin as you respond.

     "Then don't be."

     It's all the permission he needs. He snatches you away from the wall, dragging you down the hall toward the master bedroom at the far end. Your heartbeat hammers in your chest as you gaze at the dark mahogany door growing closer and closer with every stumbled step you take to match his hurried pace.

     He turns to glance over his shoulder, and you follow the action as he grips the handle, turns it, and...

     "What the..." Hoseok mutters, rattling the handle forcefully before raising his fist to pound against the door. "YAH! UNLOCK THIS DOOR!" He booms. 

     You hear muted voices and sounds of scurried movement from within. He bangs again and again until the door swishes open to reveal a flushed and flustered Jungkook, still fumbling with the button of his jeans.

     "Hyung! S-sorry, hyung, I was just...we were..."

     "OUT." Hoseok demands icily, pushing the door inward on its hinges to reveal the peppy, strawberry-scented young woman from before hurrying forward to tuck herself behind Jungkook as she draws a hand across her smeared lipstick. 

You bite back a grin as you watch them scuttle down the hall before Hoseok shuts and locks the door behind you.

     "That kid...seriously," he grumbles. "He knows my room is off limits."

     You chuckle, despite his lack of amusement, and he takes your hand again, drawing you toward a small couch at the far side of the large room. You take in your surroundings as you cross the space - similarly furnished to the rest of the apartment. The furniture is sleek and modern, Kaws sculptures and collectible figurines occupy tables and shelves. There are a few live plants, including one hanging from a large hook in the ceiling near a massive, raised canopy bed.

     He draws you to sit beside him, a crease still pinched between his brows, likely from having to evict the irksome intruders. You laugh softly and run a thumb over his forehead.

     "They're gone!" you chuckle, "Don't let it bother you so much. You'll get wrinkles." You tease, and his face softens.

     He catches your hand in both of his as it lowers. He sighs.

     "I needed a bit of water thrown in my face anyway," he smirks, and you glance down bashfully. "Before anything really happens, I think we should have…a conversation." 

     You nod in agreement.

     "Can I start?" you interject and he nods in return.

     You huff out a long breath.

     "I want to apologize for how I reacted...last time."

     He smiles wryly.

     "It was all very new and sudden to me, and...I don't know...I freaked out."

     Hobi squeezes your hand.

     "You have no reason to be sorry about that. I should have never initiated like that somewhere that wasn't really private. I just got caught up..." he shakes his head.

     "No! Me too! I'm glad it happened. I..." you trail off, feeling your face heat. "Oh, fuck, I don't know how to say this..."

     He claims he's not a patient man, but he waits, watching with tender eyes as you choose your words.

     "I haven't been able to stop thinking about it...like..." you take a deep breath as you gather the courage for vulnerable transparency.

     You remember what Jimin said. It's Hobi. You are safe with Hobi.

     "It was like nothing I've ever felt before. Like a release...more than sexual, you know? Like, freedom. Like, I felt so alive."

     He smiles, nodding his head in understanding.

     "I..." you continue, still nervous but with mounting confidence as he makes you feel heard, "I would like to...explore this part of myself, this new world," you gesture, "And...well, I would love for you to be the one to guide me."

     You raise your gaze to his. His eyes are shimmering. He slowly raises a hand and brushes his fingers over your cheek.

     "It would be my honor," he murmurs earnestly.

     A smile blooms across your face and your chest fills with warmth. You raise your hand, curling your fingers into his where they rest against your jaw. He drops your hands, still holding on, to his knee.

     "Can I ask how much you know about the community?" he queries, tracing his thumb softly over your knuckles.

     "A lot more now than I did a couple of weeks ago!" you respond with a laugh. "I know that I'm a sub, but one that likes to...fight back a little bit?"

     Hobi smirks, pocketing his tongue in his cheek. His eyes glint.

     "A brat," he answers. 

     "...Yeah."

     "Want me to work for it."

     Your mouth quirks up in a grin.

     "The harder the challenge the bigger the payoff," he hums, glancing thoughtfully down at your joined hands.

     "I think," he says after a pause, "Since you're new to all this, we should start slow. I already know some things you enjoy, and vice versa. But part of this kind of thing is about testing your limits. You're going to come across things you don't like, too. I need you to be able to tell me. Without a second thought. Seriously."

     He looks at you intently.

     You smile.

     "I trust you enough to know that you’d stop if that’s what I wanted. I may enjoy being dominated but I do still know what I want. And with you...I..." You tug at his hand, "I know I could say what I...need.”

     He huffs out a little breath, his brows drawing together as he regards you in reverence.

     "You know you can be that way with me too, right? Needy?" You ask softly. "I want...to take care of you, that way. Maybe we can...take care of each other." 

     You're not looking at him. You can't. It's all incredibly intimate and strange. When he doesn't respond, you begin to wonder if you said something you shouldn't have. And then your doubts vanish as quickly as they had appeared when you feel his arm slip around your shoulders as he pulls you into his chest, tucking your head beneath his chin.

     Your heart sings.

     After a long, quiet moment, Hobi pulls back to look at you. 

     "Should we set some rules for ourselves?" he asks.

     You purse your lips and nod. Admittedly, you had come with a few in mind.

     "I think...we shouldn't kiss. Well, not on the mouth. It's...I don't know. I think it might make things confusing."

     Hobi looks thoughtful, nodding slowly.

     "Which brings me to my other thought," you chew your lip. "I think this should just be about sex. We're friends, and I want to keep that aspect of our relationship strong and uncompromised."

     He smiles. 

     "Makes sense to me. But..." he says with a raise of his brows, "If we do start seeing other people, I think we should tell each other. Especially if they're going to be people we're fooling around with."

     You give an enthusiastic hum of assent.

“I don’t have a partner at the moment,” you shake your head, glancing up at him.

“Me neither.”

He clears his throat and shifts his stance.

“When we’re…together,” he gestures in the space between you. “What about protection?”

You blink thoughtfully.

“I’m on birth control.”

He nods.

“Okay…would you want me to wear a condom?”

You feel heat creep up your neck as you meet his gaze with a shake of your head.

“Not unless you wanted you.”

He stares at you for a long moment before chuckling and shaking his own head.

“Ay, you’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?”

You smile and pull your bottom lip between your teeth.

     "Oh! And we already have a safeword!” you remind him with a grin.

     "We do," he acknowledges, his eyes dropping to the glinting metallic ring adorning your throat.

     Your smile falters and your heartbeat quickens…and when he looks back up at you it's like whiplash as he sets you reeling again with a dark, hungry gaze.

     "If that thing isn't a necklace," he rasps, reaching his fingers up to touch the cold silver, "How about we put it to its proper use, hm?" 

     You shiver, pressing your thighs together as your heartbeat drops to your clit.

     "Yeah..." you whisper, your breath already starting to come quicker as you reach for your bag and fumble with trembling fingers with the clasp. 

     Hoseok's brow knits as he watches you open the purse, reaching in to produce a length of light chain about three feet long with a velvet strap on one and a claw clasp on the other. You double it up and dangle it from your hand, your heart thrumming in your chest as you raise your eyes to his.

     "You can put it on me," you purr, "...But you'll have to take it from me first."

     Click.

     That ineffable thing, that invisible force he wields that arrests you has slipped back into place. You can feel it, pouring off him in devastating waves...and you're already starting to drown.

     It didn't take him long to wrestle the leash from your grasp. Now you're on your knees before him, hands at your sides as he leans forward to affix the chain to the o-ring at your neck. You're breathing hard from your struggle. He stands to his full height, wrapping the links around his hand until the line is taught. He clicks his tongue condescendingly.

    "What am I going to do with you now, hm?" he murmurs, tugging at the chain briefly so that you lurch slightly forward. You whine complaintively.

     "Quiet," he hisses in warning. 

     You bite your lip. You need to obey now. Your panties are soaked and you can feel the turgid swell of your clit with every slight motion of your body. If you are good for him, then maybe you will be rewarded. Being a good girl should earn something. Right now, you will take anything.

     Hoseok glowers down at you, tilting his head to the side as his eyes trail over your features, coming to rest on your pouted lips. He wets his own.

     "You like to run that mouth of yours...how about we see what else it can do?"

     Holy fucking shit. You feel saliva begin to pool under your tongue, your eyes flicking down to the bulge at the front of his slacks. You start to raise your hands toward his belt but he yanks sharply upward on the chain, the metal ring biting into the underside of your jaw, ripping a mewl of discomfort and impatience from your lips.

     He lets out a long sigh, shaking his head as his lips curve into a cruel smile.

     "So eager that she can't even wait for permission?"

     You whimper again, biting your lip as he laughs darkly above you.

     "My little whore wants something, doesn't she?"

     You give a silent nod, letting your tongue slip out to wet your lips and watch his eyes darken as his pupils swallow his deep brown irises.

     "Mmm..." He hums in consideration, bringing his free hand to cradle your chin. "I've told you before, sweet thing, if you want something, you have to ask for it."

     Your eyes blink languidly as you look up at him. Your head is swimming as you sway on your knees, the dizzy helplessness of being spun between degradation and endearment hanging over you like a heavy trance. His fingers tighten around your jaw.

     "Come on..." he coaxes in a chilly whisper, "Use that pretty mouth to ask Hoseok."

     You swallow thickly.

    "Wan..." you start softly, but his grip on your jaw sharpens.

     "Speak up, I can't hear you," he commands reproachfully.

     Heat swells up from your neck and sweat begins to tickle your hairline. You know what you want, you've been thinking about little else since he was pressed against you on the dance floor...but the thought of giving your filthy, aching desires shape has every inch of your body trembling.

    "Wan...want..." you struggle over his fingers pressing harshly into your cheeks. 

     He tuts, and the look on his stony features suddenly warns you that if you don't overcome your nerves...

     "Wan' your cock!" you choke out desperately.

     Hoseok's lids dip slowly and his lips part, as if your words have been injected into his veins, and you think you could fucking cum at the sight. His eyes flutter open again and he gazes down. You fight for patience and composure with each maddening second of silence that passes. You can feel your pussy clench and your hands follow suit. Hoseok catches the motion. A sickening grin spreads over his lips.

     "Want this cock, hm?" he hums, releasing your chin from his grasp to palm over the clothed swell inches from your lips.

     You whimper pathetically, letting your eyes slip shut. Fuck you want him. You want your mouth around him. You want to choke on him. You want the thick, sticky milk of his release on your tongue.

     "So tell me, brat," he hisses, wrapping another loop of chain around his palm so that he holds you on a mere few inches of leash. "How do you want my cock?"

     Any shame has been dispelled from your being in the presence of your burning desire, and you raise heavy, lustful eyes to his dark ones.

     "Wanna suck it off."

     You can see his chest beginning to rise and fall with more effort as he pulls you by the leash, in tortuously slow deliberation, until your lips are ghosting over the zipper of his slacks. He glares down at you, the corner of his mouth curling up in a sneer as he holds you in place.

     "BEG."

     A violent tremor of arousal jolts through your abdomen and you gasp.

    "P-please..." you stammer dumbly against the soft, dark cotton.

     "Again."

     "Please..."

     "Please, what?" 

     "Please..." you breath shakily, "Will you fuck my mouth?"

     You feel him twitch under the vibration of your supplicating words. 

     "Alright," he relents in a rasp, "But keep those hands at your sides, understand?”

You nod.

“Unless,” he tugs at the chain again,”You need to stop. Then you grab my leg and squeeze.”

“Okay.”

“What are you going to do, baby? If you need me to stop?”

“Squeeze your leg.”

“That’s right,” he hums and the repeated instruction.

     You chew on your lip as he pulls off his belt and slips open the button, giving a tug at your collar. As you look up at his hooded eyes, you know exactly what to do.

     You nose at the seam, trying for one moment to ignore the throbbing bulge against your cheek as you find the zipper with your teeth and drag it slowly downward, your eyes never breaking his burning gaze. 

     "Good girl," he hisses, pushing his pants down his hips to reveal a pair of tight, black boxer briefs, a sizable strain pulling at the flexible fabric where he's hard beneath them.

He hooks two thumbs into the elastic and tugs down, his fully erect cock springing free to bob against the side of your face. A sticky streak of precum smears across your cheek as you seek his head with your lips, barely having time to register the smooth tip, or the pretty, pulsating veins as you rush to swallow him whole.

    Hoseok lets out a long, deep groan as you suckle greedily around him. Allowing your spit to slick his shaft you pull back, keeping just the crown between your lips as you worry your tongue along his dripping slit.

     He's rock hard and heavy on your tongue as you lean in to take him farther down your throat, bunching your hands into your dress at the aching urge to cup and stroke the velvet skin of his scrotum.

     "Fuck," he grits out from between clenched teeth, "That's right..."

     You bob lower and lower on his shaft, seeking to take as much of him as you are able. When you feel his tip brush the back of your throat, you moan around him. His free hand flies into your hair, and suddenly he's yanking you off of him. You cough and splutter at the sudden motion and he tugs the chain so that you raise watery eyes to him. He releases your hair to absently stroke himself as he lightly pants over you.

     "Asked me to fuck that throat. Think you can take it?"

     You nod as you attempt to wipe drool pooling on your chin into your shoulder.

     "Words," he pushes, snapping the chain around his wrist.

     "Yeah," you mock, matching his tone, a spark of defiance reigniting inside you.

     Hoseok lets out a hollow laugh.

     "So confident. We'll see about that."

     He slips two fingers of his free hand into the strap of your collar and tugs you back toward his cock. You open wide, extending your tongue to catch the head and pull him between your lips.

You move to swallow him again, but he halts you.

     "Keep still," he mutters coldly, and the fingers at your collar hold you tightly in place as he slowly slides his hips forward in a thrust that has him inching toward your soft palate.

Your eyes water, but you have never been more determined to fight your gag reflex as he pulls back and pushes in again, deeper, his cock tapping again at the back of your throat.

     "Goddamn, you really can take it," he groans in a shaky voice. "Such a good little slut for Hoseok. Such a pretty, filthy little mouth."

     Your nostrils flare as you draw air through your nose, and you swallow, the muscle of your throat contracting tightly around him. At this he seems to break, suddenly pulling back his hips to snap them forward as he sets a rough, self-indulgent pace.

     Your eyes water, spilling over from the brutal stretch and sting, but you dig your fingers into your thighs, determined to take him as long as you possibly can.

     You start to feel light-headed, and just when you think you're going to have to tap out for air, Hoseok's pulling you off of him and wrenching your face upwards to run his wild eyes over it.

    You gasp for breath a moment, and then you're opening your mouth to him again, blinking up through bleary eyes in a silent, hungry plea. He shakes his head slowly as he gazes down at you, chest heaving.

     "Shit, look at you..."

     You're a site. Tears and mascara streak your cheeks, saliva and precum slick your chin and neck, your parted lips swollen. Hoseok's fingers twist where they're still hooked into the collar. 

     "You still want it, don't you? My god..." he smears the tip of his cock along your bottom lip.

Your eager tongue wriggles forward to brush over him again. He swallows, and with a growl he slaps his cock down harshly over it. You let out a little sob as your soaking, aching cunt clenches around nothing. 

     "Alright," he mutters in a husky whisper, "Gonna fucking ruin that tight little throat. Gonna fill it the fuck up. Blow my load all over that nasty little tongue. And you want that, don't you? Wanna be Hoseok's pretty little cumslut, hm?" 

     You nod, and then remember the rules.

     "Yes," you croak, and open wide for him again.

     He grits his teeth and tugs at the collar to pull you slowly over him again with a shudder. You've proven more than capable and it's not long before he's chasing release at a punishing pace. It's sloppy and desperate - the hollow, wet sounds as he fucks your face a pornographic symphony. 

Suddenly you think you can feel his cock twitch and jerk as it hammers into your mouth, and when he grows so incredibly hard, you know he's about to reach his peak.

     You lock eyes with him through your tears, watching his features strain to maintain their composure. Without warning he grabs the back of your head and slams into you, arching over as he cries out.

     And he cums.

     Thick ropes spurt down your throat as he quivers and throbs.

     The moment he's spent his last drop of release he fists into your hair and roughly pulls you back, letting his softening cock fall free. You gasp for breath, coughing as you choke down the last remnants of his seed. Lips trembling, your eyes search his face for what you so desperately need...and you find it.

     His lids are heavy over his eyes, mere glistening slips of midnight visible as they gleam down at you; his beautiful lips are parted as he pants, the honey planes of chest glistening with sweat where his shirt fails to obscure it.

     He's breathless and sated and glorious, and you bask under the intensity of his gaze. He releases his hold on your collar and lets the leash clatter to the ground, bringing his hands to your face. He cups your cheeks, brushing his thumbs over the streaks of tears.

     "So, fucking good for me," he mutters shakily, his brow drawn, "Such a pretty, perfect little brat." 

     Your eyes slip shut under his words of praise. You could move mountains if he asked you to, you were certain. In this moment, in this space, anything for this man. Everything.   

     You feel his hands leave your face as he moves to help you stand, before tugging his briefs back into place. 

The heat of the moment past, you become acutely aware of the stinging soreness in your knees as you struggle to your feet – and the sticky ache of persistent hunger throbbing between your thighs. You teeter on your heels as blood rushes to your lower legs.

Smiling, he reaches out and pulls you to him gently by the waist, swiping a thumb over your chin.

     "You were a good girl, baby. So, so good," He coos in a husky whisper. "You remember what good girls get, hm?" He's still calling the shots and demanding answers, but his eyes are soft as they regard you.

     "A reward?" you answer hopefully.

     He hums in assent.

     "That's right, baby. That's right," He brushes at the smeared makeup under your eye. "But let's get that messy little face cleaned up first." 

     After unfastening your collar he sits you down on the bed, bringing makeup wipes to gently dab away the proof of your efforts, and offers you a bottle of cool water. He comes to sit beside you, eyes tracking you attentively as you drink.

     "Want Hoseok to take care of that needy little pussy?" he asks, with a smirk.

     "Fuck yes," you breath as you lower the bottle from your mouth.

     He arches a brow, and you purse your lips in an attempt not to grin.

     "Please," you add in correction.

     "Mmm," he acknowledges thoughtfully, turning to gaze over his shoulder at the spider plant hanging from the ceiling a few feet past the other side of the bed.

     "Does my little girl want to try something new?" he asks, his eyes still on the suspended planter.

     You feel your pulse quicken and stomach twist in anticipation.

     "Yes, Hoseok, I trust you," you respond without reserve.

     He flicks his eyes to your face, brows drawing together. He wets his lips and huffs out a breathy laugh.

     "You have no goddamned idea what you do to me when you say shit like that."

     You look away, smiling brightly as you preen under the heat and affection of his gaze.

     He reaches for your hand and guides you to rise to your feet.

     "Alright, ditch the dress," he orders, gesturing with a flick of his chin as he leans back on his hands and spreads his thighs in a posture of recline.

     You step back to give yourself space, already weak in the knees at the prospect of stripping for him. You steel your composure, a spark of boldness lighting in your belly. Taking a few steps away and turning from him, you look back over your shoulder to watch his face as you reach behind to slowly drag the zipper down your back. You make a slow, sensual show of peeling the garment from your body to reveal a lacy black balconette bra and matching thong. Stepping out of the dress and tossing it away, in nothing but your lingerie and stilettos, you stride back to stand patiently before him.

     He leans forward and runs his hands up the sides of your thighs until they reach your hips where they slide back to squeeze the meat of your ass.

You bring your hands gingerly to his shoulders. 

Tugging your body toward him, he draws himself to the edge of the mattress, pulling you between his thighs as he uses his sharp, white teeth to nip along the soft flesh of your belly. He sucks harshly at some places, leaving flushed little souvenirs of claim in his wake. You don't hold back the proof of your pleasure - repaying his ministrations with gasps and low moans as his hands and mouth explore you.

     Hoseok raises his face from your skin, his pupils wide as his gaze settles at your breasts. 

"Bra off," he commands, squeezing your ass again as you reach back to unfasten the clasp and pull the straps from your arms.

     He hisses and grits his teeth, raising greedy hands to knead at your supple flesh, before pulling them away to twist and slap at your nipples. 

You groan and throw your head back, relishing in the shocks of sensation – gushing, as if you could ruin your soaked panties any further. As you press your trembling thighs together he glances down at the last remaining vestige of your modesty, lips spreading into a wicked grin.

     "You know I can fucking smell it - how wet you are? My god, want you to wear it like a perfume, fuck..." He runs his right hand to rub against the dampness that has the lace clinging to your slit.

     The moan you let out is so needy it's practically a sob. Hoseok laughs low in his chest.

     Suddenly he’s standing and spinning you around, leading you to the end of the bed. He places your hands on the footboard and instructs you to bend over, sliding your hips back until your ass is on full display. He runs his hands over the bare flesh of your cheeks.

    "Now," he growls, "Can't fuck this ass until it's properly marked, can we?"

     You swallow and let out a whine. The blood is already rushing to your head in a familiar surge and in the split second of silence before impact, you know what's coming - the anticipation somehow even more intoxicating when you remember how it feels when he...

     Smack!

     You whimper, your fingers gripping the bed frame as he delivers blow after searing blow. When he has satisfied himself with the flushed tone streaking the globes of your ass, he gives it a final squeeze, commanding you to wait where you are.

     You hear him as he moves to the side of the bed to pull an object from beneath it. He seems to be grappling with something - the clink of metal and soft rustle of leather interrupting the sudden heavy hush. He returns to your side, taking your hands from the bed and bringing you to stand. As he leads you to the far side of the bed, you see it: hanging from the large hook in the ceiling that once bore the spider plant there is a large leather contraption. You've never seen one in real life, but you know what it is.

     "You have a sex swing?" you murmur in awe, momentarily forgetting yourself as you reach out to brush your fingers over the soft leather. There are buckle straps at different places and a metal bar running across the top. He lightly grips your waist, turning you to face him again. He dips his head forward and you inhale the cool mint of his breath.

     "Gonna put you in it," he murmurs, "You remember our word, right?"

     "Yes," you breathe.

“Say it.”

“Foxglove.”

He smirks.

     "Good girl. Panties off," he instructs.

     You couldn't be more eager to pull the sopping fabric down your legs and toss it aside, but when you reach to remove your shoes, he catches your wrist.

     "I didn't say you could take those off, did I?" he reprimands, and your pulse begins to hammer in your throat.

     He’s gonna fucking strap you to this thing in your goddamned heels.

     You comply with him as he helps you into the seat, fastening your wrists together to a strap that has them raised above your head. After securing your hands, he raises your legs, carefully stretching them so that your feet are on the outside of the wide set cables, hooking your heels to catch on the bar across the top to hold your legs, spread wide, in place. With each restriction he checks in, making sure you’re completely comfortable with his choices. 

When he finishes he comes to stand before you, heaving out a sigh through his nose as he trails a hand down the back of your thigh.

     "Look at you," he groans as his eyes rake over your body.

     You can feel your pussy leaking. Your heart pounds. The muscles in your legs strain a bit from the stretch and the bindings nip into your wrists and feet. You are completely exposed to him...and it is utter perfection. Like you were made to be at his mercy. You blink up at him through the fuzzy haze that keeps intensifying as you relinquish yourself deeper and deeper into his control.

     His eyes slip shut for a moment and he gives an almost imperceptible shake of his head before bringing his lips to graze against the back of your calf.

     "Hoseok..." you whisper, trembling. 

     His eyes open and lock with yours. You hold each other's gaze in silence. 

Nothing needs to be said - you both know. You both understand.

     He unbuttons his shirt and slips it off, and after discarding his briefs he is as naked as you are. With one hand he grips your leg, slipping two fingers of the other to slide through the swollen, sticky folds of your cunt. You cry out, your pelvis shuddering - so ripe to be touched that the contact sends a shock like an electric pulse through your being. 

     "What a pretty fucking pussy...so desperate for me," he mutters.

     You watch his beautiful fingers as they slip through your glistening lips and over your throbbing clit before he pulls his hand up. He lets it hover in the air for a moment before bringing it down with a harsh smack against your mound. 

A scream strangles in your throat as he repeats the motion again. Your whole body shakes with arousal. 

He clenches his jaw as he trails his fingers down to your aching hole, dipping in shallowly to gather your bountiful slick. He raises his fingers to his lips, tasting you as he watches you tremble beneath him. He withdraws them with a pop.

     "You know how much you like that? Getting this little cunt slapped?" His eyes trail down. "You're dripping down your fucking ass."

     Shuddering violently, you whimper, tugging impatiently at your restraints.

     "Yah," he warns, and you still. "Guess you're ready for me, huh? Just like that day..." He smirks condescendingly. "You're always ready, aren't you?" He hisses. "Need me so fucking badly...all of the time."

     You sob as your walls contract again and again. He takes his cock into his hand and slides it through your folds, teasing the tip over your clit.

     It's euphoric, but it's not enough. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip as you fight your own desperate need until the copper taste of blood seeps across your tongue. Somehow, it doesn't even hurt – you can't feel anything past the need for him to fill you. You feel his tip prod your entrance and you gasp.

     “Look at me," he rasps.

     Your eyes snap open. Your legs are shaking, vibrating the entire apparatus as he finally, slowly, sinks into your wet heat. The stretch of him is exquisite, and your eyes roll back in your head as he groans, steadily pulling back to push into you again.

“Shiiiiiitttt…” he hisses through his teeth, “Fucking made for me. Does my little brat like that? Hoseok’s cock stuffing that tight little cunt?”

“M-more…p-please…” you mewl, nearly unable to even form the words as his ridges drag deliciously along your taught walls.

     You're so incredibly worked up that already you can feel a climax building in your belly, and he's only just started to fuck you. Unable to touch him any other way, you squeeze around him tightly.

     He lets out a grunt, picking up his pace as he uses the mobility of the swing to pound you onto his cock. 

You cry out, your head rattling against the leather as stroke after stroke sends you hurtling toward your high. Your mouth hangs open, and your vision begins to blur at the edges, the position of your arms making it harder to breathe. It’s going put you over the edge. He catches your glazed stare.

     "Don't you fucking cum until I say," he grits out breathlessly, and you let out a wail, head falling back. 

     You can feel yourself barely holding on as he slams into you, teetering on the edge as you hear his voice.

     "Whose little whore are you?"

     You try to speak but the words won't rattle out of your chest.

     "Whose?" he booms.

     "Yours!" you press out in a sob.

     "Who do you kneel for?"

     "You!" 

     "Who owns this pussy?"

     "Y-you!"

     "And who the fuck am I?"

     "HOSEOK!"

     "Cum, slut." he growls.

...And you free-fall through time and space.

     The summer evening air is warm against your skin as you step out under the rose gold twilight. Behind you the chic dining venue is still abustle, and you wave coworkers a fond farewell as they head off to continue the evening with karaoke. It's been a big day for you, and there's someone you've been waiting to talk to.

     You press the green call button and wait as the line rings.

     "Yeoboseyo?" 

     The warm voice on the other end has a smile blooming on your lips.

     "Hey, Hobi-ssi!" you hum.

     "Hey hey!" he chrips, "What's up?"

     "Oh, nothing," you respond casually, "Just got done with a company dinner. Someone got a promotion, so we all went out."

     There's a pause on the other end.

     "Oh," answers slowly, "That one you put in for?"

     "Mhm."

     You hear him scoff in amusement

     "Well, at least you seem to be taking it well."

     "I'd say I'm taking it extremely well, which is only natural, considering I got the job."

     "Yes, well...wait, YOU WHAT?!"

     You pull the phone momentarily away from your ear as his joyful, raucous laughter blasts through the speaker.

     "You're gonna make me go deaf!" You chide. Your smile is brighter than the setting sun.

     "I'm so proud of you."

     "Thanks, Hobi."

     "You should celebrate!"

     "I did go out with my work friends...but..."

    "You should come over," he interjects.

  The register of his voice has changed. You recognize the new one.

     "Yeah?" you swallow, as your heart rate quickens. "Well...what if I do want to go to karaoke?"

     You wait for his response, watching your ride share pull up to the curb.

     "Yah - you gonna be a good girl…”

     You hold your breath.

     “...Or do I have to make you?"

-FIN-

[flowerandblood]

The Knight & The Judge Epilogue

[ modern Frollo • Aemond x Esmeralda • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, handjob, smut, angst, description of physical and mental disabilities, swearing, mention of sexual assault, an accident with fatalities and trauma ]

[ description: A few months pass since the events that changed his life, and his Esmeralda, despite her earlier decisions, chooses to continue taking care of Daeron. Aemond attends therapy, his condition improves and their bond gives him strength, still, however, he does not know, despite how much he loves her, what their relationship is. Obsession, self-destructive behavior, sexual tension, pathetic, devastated Aemond. ]

Author’s note: This story is a request, but I decided to freely use what I liked in the book and Disney film to create a new, disturbing story taking place in modern times. It is intended to be uncomfortable and will contain scenes that are at least morally questionable, in my version “Esmeralda” is not Romanian. This story will also include motifs from Jane Eyre, which was a separate request. My story will also touch on the problems of people with disabilities, so if these are sensitive topics for you, I advise against reading further. You have been warned.

Part 1 − The Knight & The Judge Part 2 − The Sin & The Penance Part 3 − The Doubt & The Delight

Main Characters Moodboard Aemond NSFW Alphabet

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

_____

He had to clench his lips to keep anything more than grunts from coming out of them as he watched how, with quick, sure thrusts of his hips, he spread her slick folds wide open on his fat cock with loud slaps of skin against skin, his palms digging into the wonderfully soft structure of her hot buttocks, feeling her throbbing around him faster and faster.

He sighed when she cried out loudly as he added his hand between her thighs, his fingers finding her puffy clit, sore from previous caresses of his tongue − although they both tried not to make any noise knowing that Daeron was watching a movie downstairs, the treatments of his fingertips caused an involuntary whimper of delight to come from her lips.

"− no, baby − quiet − shhh, I know, we're almost there −" He murmured tenderly, leaning down, his hand sinking into her soft dark hair, pressing her face against the pillow, careful not to make it hard for her to breathe, wanting to muffle her moans.

"− grab my hand if you want me to stop −" He breathed out, quickening his pace, pounding into her so fast that he tilted his head back in pleasure, but her hand did not grab his wrist, her fingers tightened on the pillow on either side of her head instead, her fleshy walls began to clench around his cock in orgasm, sucking him inside, he felt her moisture begin to run down his thighs with her helpless whine of relief.

"− thaat's it − thaat's it, babygirl − fuck −" He mumbled as he let go at last, panting hard, feeling his warm seed spill deep inside her − for a moment his mind was stunned with pleasure, his body trembled from the hot sensation that flowed in waves through his body, his hand let go of her hair and she turned her head to the side, breathing loudly.

"− are you all right? − I'm sorry, he really could hear us −" He whispered, leaning lower, laying on top of her gently, placing a tender, warm, wet kiss on her neck, stroking her bare shoulder with his broad hand.

"− I know − it's me who's sorry −" She muttered. He let his breath out loudly with a smirk, shaking his head, sinking his face into her fragrant hair.

"− do you need anything? − can we stay like this for a while? −" He asked, not wanting to slip out of her yet, just dreaming of taking a nap cuddled up against her naked body, missing her so much for the two days she hadn't been home with them.

"− yes − but we shouldn't leave him alone for too long −" She whispered, and he hummed under his breath, agreeing with her.

"− will you stay overnight? −" He asked quietly, running his fingers up and down her naked body, feeling goosebumps appear in the places he touched.

"− yes −"

They returned to Dareon after several minutes, his younger brother accustomed to them disappearing occasionally to talk, watching quietly with contentment his favourite part of Star Wars.

"Have you discussed everything yet?" He asked lightly, putting his hand to the rustling popcorn, trying to get a full handful of it into his mouth, glancing at them out of the corner of his eye. He chuckled, sitting down next to him on the couch, watching his Esmeralda went to pour herself some water dressed in his black T-shirt and shorts.

He loved this view.

He scratched his cheek with his thumb trying not to think about the fact that at the mere memory of what he was doing to her just now he felt like taking her upstairs again.

"Yeah, buddy. All set." He grumbled, spreading himself out comfortably and sighing quietly, exhausted − their gazes met as she raised a glass of water to her lips and lowered her gaze, embarrassed and insecure. He swallowed loudly at the sight, feeling a squeeze in his heart.

It seemed to him that something was going on with her lately − she was sadder than usual and drifted away with her thoughts. On top of that, recently she was the one who had been grabbing his hand and guiding it between her thighs, demanding his caresses. There was something desperate about it and although he had asked her many times if everything was okay, she always answered him that it was.

He knew he had no right to ask her anything.

They were not together and he would never have dared to suggest it, fearing rejection.

He kept telling her how much he loved her and he could see in her gaze, feel in her embrace and in the touch of her hand that she also had feelings for him, albeit complicated and painful ones.

His prosecutorial nature insisted in his mind that he should start investigating, that he should start following her, that perhaps someone was nagging her, her professor or a colleague, but fearing his intervention she did not want to tell him anything.

He knew, however, that if she found out he was doing something behind her back she would not forgive him.

He couldn't help himself however − one day, while she and Daeron were sitting on the patio talking to each other by the sliding glass door, he went out to prepare the meat they were going to grill for lunch, according to their plan spending the afternoon in the garden. He came back because he had forgotten the tray, but stopped at the wall when he heard the question Daeron had asked her.

"Have you forgiven my brother? For what he did to you back then." He asked uncertainly. He heard her shift restlessly in her wicker chair, probably looking away to see if he was anywhere near them. She sighed quietly.

"I've done him wrong too. He's trying really hard. I know he's not like that every day. That I'm important to him and that he really cares about me." She said softly, her voice trembling slightly as she spoke the words.

He closed his eyes, feeling a tightness in his throat, swallowing with difficulty at the thought that he felt pain and relief at the same time, that she recognised his efforts, that she knew he wasn't lying when he spoke about how much he cared for her.

"I've been thinking about it a lot. About why he hurt you. And I think he did because he never shouted at me. He never got angry with me even when I cried for hours. I think if he shouted at you then or hit you it was because he missed our mum and dad too. Because he couldn't cope with it and our eldest brother didn't take care of him like he did me.

Before you showed up on the first day he was very afraid that you would be late or not come. That he would leave me with you and you would hurt me. I remember his hands were shaking when he had his coffee in the morning. He told me not to trust you and that if you just did something I didn't like, I should call him. I think it was all because I wanted to dance."

His brother muttered, and he just stood there stunned with his mouth wide open, breathing hard, feeling tears burning under his eyelids at the thought that he thought he was hiding everything that was going on inside him well, and Daeron had seen it all anyway, but as a child he couldn't comprehend what was really happening to him.

I think if he shouted at you then or hit you it was because he missed our mum and dad too.

He covered his face with his hand, stifling a sob at the thought that he thought he had just shouted at her or hit her, that he hadn't even assumed what had really happened between them.

He was horrified at how long she had not responded, and once he heard her voice he felt a piercing pain in his lower abdomen at the thought that she was crying too, unable to catch her breath.

"I...Daeron, this had and has nothing, nothing to do with you. This is our adult business, okay? It's very complicated." She muttered wearily, and he swallowed heavily, trying to calm his ragged breathing, clenching his eyelids tightly.

Whatever he would do, it would always come back to them.

"I heard him tell you he loved you. I know he said it to you because when I knocked on his room he said he was talking to you on the phone." Said his younger brother, clearly trying to get to the point of starting this whole conversation and topic at all.

"Are you two going to be together?"

Silence.

Never before in his life had he been so afraid, never had he suffered so much, never had he felt so alone and desperate as when he waited for her answer.

"Don't you love him?" Daeron asked quietly after a moment, as if he was afraid his brother would accidentally hear them. "You can tell me, it's not a bad thing. I'll keep a secret."

He heard her sobbing, heard her uneven, loud breathing, the fact that she was falling apart, that he was the cause of her eternal heartbreak and suffering.

"I'm afraid to be with him. I'm afraid to name it. As long as I don't agree, he can't hit me again and yell at me. The distance makes me feel like I'm in control of the situation, that I can disappear at any time and not explain myself. That it won't hurt me when I bore him. Do you understand?" She asked him quietly, his brother swallowed loudly.

"Are you afraid of my brother?" He whispered frightened, heard her draw in the air loudly, sniffling.

"I'm scared of what he's doing to me. I think I'm getting addicted to him, like people get addicted to alcohol or drugs." She muttered, and he took a few steps back, feeling tear after tear run down his face.

He didn't run when he heard her rise from her seat as she entered the house, clearly wanting to go quickly to the bathroom − she jumped when she spotted him standing against the wall, her eyes and mouth wide open in disbelief and horror.

"− Aemond −" She mumbled, and he swallowed loudly and grunted, walking over to the countertop, getting back to work.

"The meat will be ready soon."

He heard her stand still, her breathing loud, unsure of what to do, understanding perfectly well that he'd heard everything they'd said.

She didn't love him.

She was just addicted to him.

He thought dispassionately that he was like a stimulant that was destroying her life, not allowing her to live in another healthy relationship.

He heard her moving ahead after a while, locking herself in the toilet, heard her loud sobbing, his palms shaking all over as he cut the meat, tears one by one dripping onto the wooden board beneath his hands.

They spent the evening as they had planned, pretending nothing had happened, Daeron telling them about a new game he really wanted to play and a new cartoon he was watching.

In the night he locked himself sooner in his bedroom, feeling that he couldn't be around her, remorse and self-pity prevented him from breathing or functioning.

He shuddered, feeling the quick pounding of his heart as he heard the quiet creak of his door as usual an hour later − he heard her footsteps, felt her body lay behind him on his bed, sliding up over his duvet, felt her hand on his stomach.

He clenched his eyelids as his cock immediately twitched aggressively in this trousers, all swollen.

They lay like that for a while − he could feel her warm breath on his neck, her breasts hidden behind his Tshirt snuggled into his back, her fingers trailing from his sternum to his lower abdomen making shivers run through him.

He found with despair that he had become achingly hard from just her closeness.

"− I'm sorry −" She whispered finally; he shuddered all over and swallowed quietly as her soft, warm lips placed a gentle kiss on his shoulder. "− I didn't mean it −"

He did not reply.

He heard her trembling sigh, her body nestled into his from behind, the way he always used to do.

He felt a single, lonely tear run down the side of his face onto the pillow.

All he was able to manage was to breathe, his heart pounding like mad.

"− you have taken deep root in my heart − you grow in it like an oak tree in my garden full of flowers − and even though I did not want it, I have found cooling in its shade, shelter from the rain under its leaves, from its wood things are made that last −" She whispered and he felt his whole body tremble.

He imagined her, her flower garden and himself.

A great, spreading tree.

"− this is not what my garden was supposed to be − I only wanted flowers in it − but now, when I look at this tree from the window of my house, at its thick trunk, its green, beautiful leaves in summer, yellow and red in autumn, I am glad that I let it grow −" She said softly, her lips again placed a kiss on his neck as her hand slid lower. A broken, helpless moan broke from his throat as he felt her fingers tighten on his swollen, aching manhood, squeezing him with sure up and down strokes.

"− I − mghmm −" He mumbled out, horrified by how pleasurable this was, by the fact that this might be the last time he would see her, by the fact that he no longer knew himself what she felt for him, what would be better for them, what he should want for himself, when all he desired was for her to simply be by his side.

He wanted her to take care of him.

Not out of revenge, not out of lust.

He needed her.

"− I know − easy − I want to take care of you −" She whispered tenderly, in the way he'd dreamed of since he'd met her. He felt heat in his lower abdomen and heart, his hips involuntarily beginning to respond to her movements with rocking, his tip all swollen and sticky with his precum, pulsing in her embrace.

"− please − inside you −" He gasped out and she let go of him, letting him turn to face her − he grabbed her in his arms and pressed his face against her soft, plump breasts hidden beneath his t-shirt. He lifted the material quickly above her thighs, sighing in relief, feeling that she wasn't wearing underwear − she threw her leg over his waist, the fat, pink head of his cock easily forced its way between her slick, hot, plushy folds.

"− f-fuck −" He cried out, tightening his fingers on her back, snuggling into her like a small, frightened child, pounding into her with quick, sure thrusts of his hips, seeking refuge deep inside her, in the only place where he felt safe.

"− I love you − I love you − I love you − please, don't leave me −" He mumbled into her chest, choking on his own tears − her fleshy muscles clenched against him at his words, sucking him inside, his thighs slapping against her buttocks with a loud click of her moisture. He felt her fingers comb through his hair, cuddling him tighter into her, her lips placing a warm kiss on the top of his head.

"− it's too late for me anyway − I'll never be free of how much I want you −" She exhaled with a kind of relief, as if she'd been wanting to get it out of her for a long time, as if she'd finally come to terms with the fact that they were doomed to each other not because they'd decided to, but because, for some reason, they fit together like two parts of a whole.

Her hips responded to his pushes, his hand clamping down hard on her hot, soft buttocks, forcing her to let him in deeper, slamming into her so fast that he was no longer sliding out with a loud slaps of naked skin.

"− oh, baby, fuck, fuck, fuck −" He gasped out loud, for the first time being so vocal and helpless in bed, more so than when she was riding him, more so ever in his life, feeling that he no longer had the strength to pretend that he wasn't tired, that he wasn't disappointed, that he wasn't crying during the night when she wasn't next to him, that he was coping with the fact that he'd hurt the woman he'd loved so much the first day he'd really met her.

He felt her orgasm, her body arching back in shock at how intense the sensation was, soaking him wet, her palms clenching on his back, responding to his thrusts with the rocking of her hips for a moment longer, sweet, helpless moans of pleasure coming from her lips.

"− I want to have a family with you − to have children with you −" He muttered with relief as he felt the heat spill over his lower abdomen when he finally came inside her, delighted that she was letting him feel herself again, that he was deep inside her, inside his safe place, inside his home. He heard her sigh softly.

"− one day −"

[ladylaviniya]

Lassoed In Love

Chapter 1 || Masterlist || Chapter 3

Chapter Summary: You and Clark are caught by none other than Miss Lara Clark, the person you had originally come for. You learn the girl has a hidden dream.

Pairing: Farmer!Clark Kent X Teacher!reader

Chapter Warnings: 18+ Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Adults Caught Kissing (No Sex In This Chapter), Slowburn, Teenage Angst, Mentions of Military Pathways.

Word Count: 3k

Author Notes: Please leave a comment about your thoughts, it helps me with continuing or adding ideas. I know the ending and main plot but I don't mind hearing theories and new ideas.

I intend to update every Saturday 10am AEST

Inspiring Song: "Brutal" by Olivia Rodrigo

"I guess I’ll come back later then?” Came a new, young and feminine voice interrupting your blood rushing thoughts, “You could’ve told me you were trying to get laid...I could’ve gone to Jonathan’s house.”

You jerked away from Clark totally at the sound of another person standing at the end of the hallway. She was tall and lean with well rounded muscles on her biceps and calfs, her hair was cut short in a pixie cut, her hair was dark but in the sunlight behind her there was a shimmer of Auburn and reds. Her skin was covered in freckles. She was holding a bucket. It swayed by her side. She wore denim overalls and a collared shirt, around her neck were a pair of headphones connected by wire to a small walkman tucked inside her breast pocket.

She was licking her teeth and scoffed at the look of your surprised expression.

“Anyway...guess I’ll be off shovelling more horse shit.”

She turned to leave before Clark yelled out, “Lara, stay. She came to see you.”

The girls dark brows connected, she sarcastically chuckled and turned back to face you, glancing you up and down, “Why? Does she need a tampon? Got a nose bleed Sweetie?”

Clark cupped your shoulders unexpectedly and seethed over your head, “Don’t be using no sass girl, you know how to properly address a guest. Just cause you’re grounded don’t mean you get to keep acting like a brat.”

You were a guest?

She rolled her eyes. You could hear her father click his tongue. “This here is Miss Y/N Y/L/N, the new schoolteacher. Miss Y/L/N, my daughter, Lara.”

Her mean streak washed away in seconds, “oh...” she put the empty bucket on the floor, she sheepishly asked, “I ugh um...wha-what can I do for you miss?”

Even while battling overwhelming embarrassment of being caught kissing her father, you couldn’t help but be jolted by the way Clark had called you by your last name after that lustful kissing embrace. He was different, instead of being affected by it, he appeared composed and in control as if it hadn’t even happened. Your entire body still quivered with every sensation from the moment, making you want to surrender yourself to the all-enveloping flames that seemed to be licking at every pore of your body.

Instead of succumbing to your desire to fall back into his arms, you remained rigidly still with your arms stiffly at your sides while your face burned. You directed all your attention on Lara Kent instead, reminding yourself that she was the reason you were there. Her resemblance to her father gradually became more apparent as the seconds ticked by.

Her brows, eyes, scowling lip and high cheek bones were a copy paste depiction of his own. Her other features must be that of her mother’s you figured. Lara was also tall like her father, maybe half a foot shorter.

As her pale, gleaming blue eyes met yours, you were struck by something in them unlike anything you’ve ever seen before – a mixture of untamed power and bitter acceptance that gave her a wise yet jaded expression. There was no doubt, she was his daughter.

You extended your hand towards her, eager to have a chat, “I’d really love to chat with you, Lara.”

Her expression remained flushed. She crossed the hallway rug to shake your hand anyway, albeit enthusiastically. “Don’t know why,” she stated bluntly.

“You’re only a sophomore, made it in the top of your KAP and you then you just dropped out of school.” The facts hardly needed to be confirmed by the teenager, but Lara shrugged and nodded. You took a lengthy breath, “Dare I ask why?”

The corner of her lip pulled downwards, she looked at her feet and toed the floor, sweeping invisible dust along, “I just... There ain’t nothing there for me.”

You felt increasingly frustrated by the calm, flat statement the girl made, as you couldn’t discern any hint of uncertainty in her demeanour. It was clear from the way she spoke that Lara had already made up her mind and wouldn’t be swayed. You tried to devise another way to approach her, but Clark’s deep, steady voice cut you off before you could find the words.

“Miss Y/F/N, you can finish talkin’ when you get into some decent clothes. Lara, can you find one of yours or one of my old shirts or coats, something to cover her?”

To your astonishment, the girl looked you over with her old soul eyes. “Why? Where are you goin’ off to?” For a moment amusement sparkled in her blue-diamond gaze, and you chewed your lips together worried about the sinister smirk on her face. Fucking teenagers. Absolutely terrifying.

“Miss Y/L/N crashed her car just out on the roadside, see if I can pull it out of the gulley...get it to the mechanics in town,” Clark added to the list.

“I can look at the car Dad, see what I-”

“Lara,” her father said sternly, “Do as you’re told.”

Your eyes widened, you turn fast and quickly regretted it. You touched your forehead with a soft groan. With a wobbly determination you stated, “Mr. Kent, I really don’t need extra clothes and I am fully capable of calling a tow bar. I really need to speak with your daughter, Miss Kent.”

“No,” he chuffed, “Frankly I don’t trust your expertise in cars or maintenance. I also ain’t lettin’ you leave my damn property covered in blood, and,” his hand snuck around and cupped the small of your back, you could have swooned, “...I’ll gather you need to have a sit down again soon..”

His dark eyes flashed up to his daughter, his voice sharp in authority, “Lara, shirt, now.” Without even glancing at you again, he left your side, put on his broad brim hat stalked out the front door.

With Lara dropping the bucket carefully to the ground, she put her hands on her hips as if ready to draw invincible pistols. She smirked and walked passed you, “This way Miss Y/L/N.”

You continued to follow her into a room down the right at the end of the hallway, passed the stairs.

“Our old clothes are boxed up at the top of my wardrobe, but it won’t take long for me to find something to fit you. You can wait and then change in here though. It’s my room.”

Lara opened the door, and you were surprised by what you’d discovered. You had expected makeup, posters, maybe even a stereo and a messy on the floor or bed...instead you were welcomed by a room you swore was devoid of any teenagers inhabitants.

Just like the living room, the bedroom exuded a old charm with its floral wallpaper and thick wooden walls. The absence of modern music equipment or adolescent clutter served as testament to the maturity of its dweller. A neatly made single bed adorned with a homely quilt stood in one corner, accompanied by a simple straight chair. Next to the bed, a collection of bookshelves stretched upwards to the ceiling, their sturdy construction showcasing expert craftsmanship. The shelves were brimming with books, piquing your curiosity, and you idly glanced over the titles, admiring the interesting collection of reading materials. Maths, mechanical engineering, car model histories, science, and the history of transportation were the biggest themes on Lara’s shelves.

As you perused the shelves, you suddenly realized that most the books had a theme: automobiles. From pioneers like Karl Benz to modern innovators like Tesla, the collection covered the entire spectrum of automobile history. There were books on cars, race cars, motor cycles, military tanks, ambulance vans, and trucks. War-related books detailed battles fought in each conflict since tanks made their debut in World War I. You also noticed books on experimental automobiles and driving techniques, as well as delving into internal design and engine capabilities.

Lara stomped over and shut her curtains, maybe for a sense of privacy in case her father returned and got a peep of something you wished you had shown him before Lara interrupted.

In the centre of the room was a brass metal bed. And before you fell face forward you choice to sit at the edge of the mattress.

Lara glanced over her shoulder, “So whatcha do to your car?” her fingers peaking through the curtains. Perhaps she sore her father and your cat.

Your fingers dug into the blanket on her bed as you awkwardly scratched your chin and mumble, “I accidentally crashed it...in an attempt to avoid hitting a rather big bull.”

She held back a laugh and swayed to the wardrobe, the sound of the rail screeched, “Let me guess...Chief? Odin would’ve ran, he’s a scaredy cat, but Chief is half cow, half dumb brick wall.”

She tore out a thick blue flannel shirt with sleeves that would’ve made you look like a child, it was huge while she held it up on the hanger. She held it out to you.

“Thankyou Lara,” you pawed it close and over your head and torso. You slipped into the oversized flannel shirt, fastening the buttons before rolling up the sleeves that hung past your hands. As the fabric brushed against your skin, you couldn’t help but notice the oversized nature of the garment. It felt as if you were enveloped in a warm embrace, a subtle reminder of Clarks presence even in his absence.

While you struggled to poke your arms through the scratchy material sleeves, you tried to continue the point on why you’d grace the Kent’s doorstep.

The scent of Clark filled your nose as you fiddled with the sleeves. It may have been clean and washed, but his cologne was a powerful scent.

You looked around the room again. On the walls were rows of different family photos. A repeat was of a young girl with a missing tooth smiling pushing a toy truck in the dirt. Another photo for her, she was sitting on a old man’s lap watching a race on a big tar road. And finally one of the same girl bent over, staring at awe at the mechanics of a old ford truck, her face and clothes, covered in grease.

You smiled, the little girl was Lara.

The collection on her shelves was not merely an indication of an interest in cars and the like, but rather, it was a testament to a hyperfixation, an obsession. Obsessions, in general, could either harm or uplift people, as some could lead to ruin, while others could elevate individuals to greater heights and make them shine brighter, burn hotter, and live life more fully. However, when those obsessions were not satisfied, the individual would suffer, their soul starved and their life blighted. If your suspicions were correct, then you might have a way to reach out to Lara and potentially help her return to school.

“So...you like cars?” you asked, then winced at your own pedestrianism.

Lara paused, hesitation in her face. Her eyes glanced at her feet.

“Yea...I like ��em”

“Have you thought about having driving lessons?”

She blinked at you before snorting with amusement as if you said something truly funny.

“Miss Y/L/N...most kids ‘round here know how to drive by the time they’re ten. I’ve been driving since I was six. Sure, grandpa had to reach the pedals for me but, I grew into them eventually.”

“Oh, right, of course you would...” Where were her grandparents and mother? “Anyway, so why did you decide to quit school?”

She shut the wardrobe harder than you’d like. Her nose flared a little as she breathed. Was she embarrassed? Annoyed? Maybe you weren’t the first teacher to have asked her? Despite this Lara gazed at you pointedly and provided the same stark reply as before.

 “There was nothing for me there.”

Your brows came together, “Nothing else you can learn from or...?”

“Miss Y/L/N, everything I know, I taught myself.”

That shouldn’t have been possible. It sounded unlikely...but...what if..

You paused. “Miss Lang did not-....” you stopped, unsure of how to phrase your own thoughts or inquires.

“I was always ignored,” she stated sourly, “From the first day of grade four I realised that none of the teachers wanted to help me anymore. I wasn’t included. It was like I was outcasted. I wasn’t allowed to ask questions. I am surprised anyone even marked and graded my work.”

It didn’t make any sense to you, “But you were number one in your class? The top KAP. How is that possible?”

“I read, a lot,” Lara explained, her voice filled with passion. “My dad even buys me cassette tapes that are audio books. I’ve learned more here on this farm than I ever did at Smallville middle and high school. Besides, I know the dairy and maize industry better than anyone else around here, perhaps except for my dad. I didn’t learn that in school. This farm will be mine someday, and this is my life. Why should I waste my time in school when it doesn’t involve what I love?”

You took a deep breath and insisted, “Because you love cars more.”

  She couldn’t prevent the avid gleam that shone briefly in her blue eyes, but it was quickly extinguished, “Yea, well, I can’t exactly learn about mechanics and engineering at Smallville High School. Maybe in another life.”

You rubbed the tip of your fingers along the bruise rising on your chin, “How about in this life? Have you thought about taking on an military ASVAB to apply as a diesel mechanic? They can teach you more on hands skills with their vehicles I am sure.”

Lara paled. This time you couldn’t see a gleam of eagerness, but a deep, anguished need so powerful it shook you, as if she’d been shown a glimpse of heaven. Then she turned her head, and abruptly she looked older. “Don’t try to make a fool of me. There’s no way.”

Lara’s face drained of all colour, her eyes widened, replaced by a deep and tortured longing that seemed to consume her entire being. It was as if she had been granted a glimpse of some sort of utopia, something that promised to quench her soul’s desperate thirst. But suddenly, a flicker of doubt crossed her eyes as she turned her head away. She shook her head, her voice filled with a mixture of hope and bitterness. “Please, don’t feed me false hope. I would prefer to be realistic.”

“Why isn’t it realistic Lara? From what I saw in your school folder, the records, your grades are above average. That is more than enough to get you into their programs when you turn eighteen.”

“I dropped out,” she glumly mumbled.

“You can always return.”

“As far behind as I am? I think I would need to repeat this grade, and sorry but, I refuse to sit around and be bullied for it among the other things.”

Other things...it was unclear what those other things were. But every teenager has their own problems and social issues, so you decided not to press any further.

“I doubt you would be that far behind. You will need to catch up and I could tutor you. I’m a licensed teacher, Lara, and I believe I could help you in the classes you need and how to access these supportive programs that could benefit you.”

She chewed her bottom lip and wiped a little sweat from her forehead, “Okay, so, what if I do it?” she muttered. “Dad would be all alone on the farm. What would I do? Join the army and then retire when he croaks?”

You came to her side and touched her shoulder carefully, “Lara, I think your father wants whatever is best for you. If that is your choice, then you can do that. But wouldn’t you like to at least try? Say you tried and gave it a shot, instead of never knowing and always wondering about the ‘what ifs’?”

She straightened, her dark blue eyes fierce, “I guess.”

“Then it’s time to find out, isn’t it?” You smiled.

Lara heaved a sigh, her slender fingers combing through her tousled auburn locks. With a restless energy, she moved to the window, her gaze fixated on the billowing curtains. The rhythmic sway of the fabric seemed to match her inner turmoil. Her eyes, filled with a mixture of longing and resignation, watched the dance of the cloth, as if searching for solace or an answer to an unspoken question.

“Do you really think it’s possible?” she glanced back at you, awkwardly standing in the centre of her bedroom

You nodded, “Of course it’s possible. It isn’t guaranteed, but it’s possible. Can you live with yourself if you don’t try? If we don’t try?”

“If I agreed,” she said, rubbing her hands on her legs, breathing hard, “It would have to be at night. I got my chores around here that have to be done. I can sleep through parts of the day.”

“Night time is fine with me if it will at least get you back in school.”

She gave you a quick look. “You actually mean it, like... You actually cared that I dropped out of school?”

You were dumbfounded, “Of course I care. Lara, teaching is part of my soul,” you began, your voice carried a soft, sombre tone. “When I am unable to teach and know that I’m making a difference, I lose a part of myself. Just as you feel the compulsion to know about vehicles and their inner workings. Isn’t it the same for you? Your fascination with vehicles isn’t just a hobby; it’s a deep-seated need, a part of your identity. If you were to lose that knowledge, to be unable to tinker and understand the machines that you adore, wouldn’t that make you feel like a crucial part of you had died?”

The silence was thick and heavy. And for a shocking moment, you could see the glassy tears gleaming in Lara’s eyes.

“I want it so bad it hurts,” she admitted, her voice raw, her throat bobbed, “so fucking bad Jesus Christ. Sorry for cursing. When can we start?” Her face was blushed and her arms hugged herself.

The bubbling of joy could not be contained. You clapped your hands excitedly, “We can start Monday after school hours. You’ve already wasted enough time.”

You couldn’t help but notice the transformation that was taking place before your eyes, as if the burden of a thousand weights were gradually falling away from Lara’s slender shoulders. She appeared younger, more like the little girl in the photos, and yet, there was an undeniable maturity in her that set her apart from her peers. If working with vehicles truly held such significance for her, you couldn’t help but wonder how it must have felt to have chosen a path that seemingly contradicted her deepest desires.

  TO BE CONTINUED....

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[readychilledwine]

Flight Patterns pt 5

Summary - After years of hushed whispers and leads, Azriel has finally found Cassian's lost sister, Aerilyn. What he found with her was unexpected, though.

Warnings - injury, mention of Azriel's job, Amarantha, story takes place pre-UTM, loose editing (aka my friend who does my edits is currently arc reading for someone so I am not bugging her until she is done. Liz will catch uncaught errors as she looks with fresh eyes later)

A/N - Did I change how I wanted something to go in this story? Yes. Was it so I could include a starfall scene where *other things* may happen? Also, yes.

P.s. Pieces of You will be out later tonight still. I apologize for the delay. My tiny human was super snuggly last night and today, so her and her many rolls won.

✨️ Series Masterlist ✨️ Rhysand Masterlist ✨️ Master Masterlist ✨️

Aerilyn felt like she was floating. She wasn't sure what she had been given, or if something had coated the arrows that struck her, but she felt as though she wasn't in her own body, let alone this plane of existence.

She could hear him, though. Hear him whispering to her. It was like he was calling her home, calling her back to him. His voice felt like a tether, pulling her from a pit. “Come back to me,” Aerilyn felt that tug at her heart, felt him in her mind. “Come home to me.”

Mor watched as her fingers twitched, sending the image to Rhysand. “Keep fighting, Ari,” she took Aerilyn's hand in hers. “Come home to us.”

-

Rhysand watched the red-haired general as she studied the male he currently had on his knees. “I do not recognize him.” Lie, Azriel's voice rang through his head, echoing in anger and promising death. She lies.

“Odd,” the High Lord said slowly, “He sang your praises when I asked what he was doing in my court, and all the way up in the Moutains.” The attack leading to Aerilyn's injury had been enough for the High Lord to have Amarantha stopped and held in Hewn City.

He refused to risk her getting beyond that point and restricted her access any further into Night. It had been met by a pout from the general, claiming she was being held despite her being there to bring a message of peace.

Now, her face was a mask of calm and seduction, one Rhysand saw straight through as her shields temporarily dropped in anger of her spies' treason. “I can assure you I do not know who this is or why he had bloodbane weapons with symbols of Hybern.”

Rhys didn't allow his face to shift from the look of indifference he had. She had unknowingly given him knowledge in her slip up, and he sent it immediately to Madja. He, however, didn't give her a single drop of knowledge as Azriel in his shadows swept the spy from the room, dragging the poor male to whatever holding cell Cassian was waiting in.

Cassian had been feral when they came back to Rhys and Amren holding Aerilyn down as she shook, blood pouring from her mouth and nose. Cassian wanted blood in turn for what happened to his sister, and this male would be the last to deliver. “As much as I doubt that to be true, it would be wrong of me to turn you away if your intended purpose is peace negotiating,” Rhys paused as 5 guards appeared. “They will escort you to your chambers for your stay. Until I know for sure there is not someone with alternative motives in your travel party, they will stay where they are.”

Amarantha seemed to smirk with something Rhys figured was glee as she studied his body and face, “Who knew such a pretty thing could be so cruel.”

“You have no idea how cruel I can be.”

Mor had brought Aerilyn to Rhysand's room at the Moonstone Palace. The illyrian female had tucked herself into his bed instantly, curled up and asleep under the power of one of Madja’s tonics to aid with pain. She hardly felt Cassian beside her, plaiting her long dark hair into braids to protect it as she slept. Not that they knew what was in her system, everything clicked into place, allowing Madja to properly treat her.

The inner circle was gathered in the room, discussing the best course of action. Aerilyn would be upset the conversation happened without her again, but it was a risk Rhysand was willing to take to protect her. “I do not want to risk her knowing about my family, especially Aerilyn and the dragons,” Rhys looked towards the window, sighing as he did. “But Keir will quickly reveal the existence of all of you, minus her.”

Rhysand's eyes were locked in his mate's sleeping form, the soft rise and fall of her chest as she took clean deep breaths for the first time in 3 days. He'd sooner sent Aerilyn and her dragons away. Risking Hybern getting to her somehow was too dangerous. Mor sipped her wine, clearing her throat to pull Rhys from his thoughts. “She already knows about me. She knows we are family and I helped the Night Court armies. I can safely go with you.”

Rhys nodded. “Azriel can hide in the shadows.” Az nodded, still wiping blood from his hands as he did. “Did he say anything else?”

The spymaster shrugged. “He cried for his mother,” Azriel felt his lip twitch up slightly, “Nothing has broken him yet, but we know how Hybern tortures their spies to prevent that.”

Rhys nodded, his eyes meeting Cassian's. It was an unspoken command, one that led to Amren and Cassian glancing at each other. The ancient being moved to the other side of Aerilyn. “We will protect our future lady.” Cassian watched Aerilyn's soft smile appear, then the ghost of a whisper of Rhysand's name. “You should spend some time with her, Rhys.”

Rhys shook his head. “I will not risk her scent on me before dinner.”

Cassian held Aerilyn while Rhys entertained the Hybern general. He had no interest in politics or the games right now. His only concern was his sister. He had her tight against him, telling her her favorite bedtime story of a princess who couldn't sleep due to a pea under her mattress. He could remember her laughter, the squeals of delight, as he and their mother would reenact the story to her. It all seemed so distant now. Like memories of a past life.

A defenseless boy stripped from his mother. A girl, barely more than a babe, ripped from her home and left for dead. Had he left a single person in that village alive, it would have felt like poetic justice to him. He would be their commander and general, and his sister Lady Night.

He knew that day would come, the day his sister would have command over him. He was watching her and Rhysand, watching that instant chemistry and attraction blossom. Rhysand loved her at first sight, Cassian and Azriel both knew that based on his anger.

Hybern had been sniffing around for awhile, and Aerilyn appearing when she did complicated things for Rhysand. He now had more than just his court, more than his family, he had a mate. A powerful mate with weapons they would not even be able to use without risking war with the other courts. A mate capable of carrying an illyrian babe. Aerilyn's eyes were no longer hardened when she looked at Rhys. Instead they had softened and were filled with wonder and affection. He had also noticed they were touching each other more. Cuddling in Rhysand's office from time to time.

It was odd how his intuition as a brother should have been to fight Rhysand, to threaten him, but instead, Cassian found himself praying that Aerilyn accepted the bond soon. If she accepted the bond, Cassian would never lose her again. And who better to be her mate than the one male capable of misting armies away to protect her.

Rhysand entered the room late into the Night, sending Cassian and Amren away as he did. He was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to get out of his fine clothing and hold Aerilyn.

He winnowed them back to the cabin, knowing she preferred the Forest to the stonewalls. He prayed the mountain air would help her heal. He began his mission again, wiggling into her dreams and whispering to her, calling to her. He had hoped the command of her high lord would pull her soul back from wherever she was.

The whispering began again in Aerilyn's mind. That pulling being came insistent, ripping her from the darkness she was in into a starlight bathed flower field. Rhys was there, waiting for her as she walked to him, settling next to him among the wildflowers. “Where are we?”

Rhys shrugged, finally looking at her. “I was hoping you could tell me. You created this place after all. It's in your mind.”

Aerilyn looked around, admiring the overgrown grass, the tall florals in bright reds, blues, purples, and whites. She deemed it her safe place. Somewhere she must go in her dreams to relax. She watched the stars racing across the sky, glittering in greens, teals, and soft pinks.

“I did not realize you had witnessed Starfall before,” Rhysand laid back, pulling her with him. “It is my favorite holiday.”

Aerilyn placed a hand on his chest, huddling into his warmth. “I have only read about it.”

“If you wake up, you will see if soon,” he tilted her head towards his, “you have to wake up, though.”

Aerilyn shot awake, hand on her chest as another rough tug rattled her body and mind. Rhysand sat shirtless in front of her, whispering a soft thank you to the Mother. Her hand was instantly on Rhysand's cheek, hazel eyes meeting his as he came closer and put his forehead to hers. “Good morning, Darling.”

What happened next was the last thing he expected, the last thought in his mind. He hardly even had time to react. Aerilyn's hand moved to the back of his neck, pulling him down to her before crashing their lips together in a heated kiss.

Home, she whispered into his mind. You are home.

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson

Flight Patterns:

@kemillyfreitas @jesssicapaniagua @elijahssuit @biancabldss @hellwantfuckme @justdreamstars @sidthedollface2 @mis-lil-red @lovemesomevesey @coisas-da-dani @anuttellaa @sweetcarolina-24 @ghostgirl-207 @cuethedepession @wistful-night-drives @ladybirdbeetle7 @morganwdarius @fxckmiup @mybestfriendmademe @lilah-asteria

[acewritesfics]

Greatest Birthday Of All Time | Jay Halstead

⚠️ THIS IS A REPOST FROM MY MAIN BLOG @/DLMLUFICS. UNFORTUNATELY, I HAVE TO DO IT THIS WAY. MORE INFO IN MY PINNED POST.

Pairing: Jay Halstead

Request: No. This is one of the birthday imagines I wrote for my birthday last year.

Fic Type:

Warnings: Fluff, fluff and more fluff. Mentions of reader being 5ft4. This one is a little personal for me since I used my actual birthday and the non-existent plans that I usually have.

Word Count: 1.257

JAY HALSTEAD MASTERLIST || TAG LIST SIGN-UP

Y/N is sitting at Molly's bar, enjoying her second Jack and Coke of the night. She hadn't intended on getting drunk with a room full of strangers for her birthday, but it was better than staying in her apartment alone, watching whatever cheesy rom-com was playing on TV. 

This year her mom and stepdad spontaneously decided to go to Hawaii, wanting to spend their Christmas on the beach. Her brother and sister-in-law were in Texas visiting her family, and her friends were also out of town visiting their families until after New Years. All of them left her alone in Chicago to spend Christmas and her birthday by herself. 

This isn't the first time she's spent those two days alone. Christmas alone didn't bother her as much as spending her birthday alone. Her birthday was always overshadowed by Christmas, and she couldn't fault her family and friends for being out of town for it. She'd gone out with her friends a week before her birthday to celebrate it. She'd gotten calls and messages wishing her a "happy birthday" from her family and friends all through the morning. As lovely as it was, she wished they could be here with her on her special day. 

After finishing her drink, she goes to order another one when a man comes up beside her to order himself a drink. He looks down at her empty glass as he orders. "And I'll get one of what she's drinking." 

"Coming right up," Christopher says as he grabs the man's drink before pouring another Jack and Coke for her. He slides the drinks across the bar. 

She thanks the firefighting bar owner, lifting the glass to her lips to take a sip before turning to the man who bought it for her. "Thank you..." 

"Jay Halstead," he introduces himself holding his hand out towards her. 

"Y/N L/N," she also introduces herself as she shakes his hand. "Thanks, again." 

"You're welcome," he smiles, sitting on the stool next to hers. "Not to sound cheesy or anything, but what are you doing alone, drinking by yourself." 

"I'm not alone anymore," she smirks. There was no denying he was attractive, with his short dark hair, his pretty blue eyes, his smile, and the freckles dotted all over his handsome face. He was totally her type. "But if you must know, it's my birthday. My family and friends are out of town and this seemed more fun than sitting at home watching a crappy movie while downing a bottle of cheap wine." 

"Happy Birthday," he wishes her. "I'm sorry you're alone for it." 

"Like I said, I'm not alone anymore," she says taking another sip of her drink, her eyes never leaving his.  

"No, you're not," he says also taking a drink from his glass. "What did you want to do for your birthday?" 

"I honestly haven't thought about it," she tells him.  

Jay observes her for a few minutes as she looks away from him and down at her drink in her hands with a sad expression. He notices her coat on the back of her chair and gets an idea. Downing the rest of his drink, he stands back up, putting his coat back on.  

"Come with me," he says taking her coat and holds it out to her. 

She looks at him with hesitant wide eyes. "Are you planning to kill me?" she jokes. 

"You're safe with me," he tells her, not easing her suspicion. "I'm a detective with the intelligence unit at district 21." 

"That just means you know how to hide a body and the evidence," she jokes again and stands up taking her coat from him. "But I'll give you the benefit of the doubt, Detective Jay Halstead." 

She follows him out of the bar and to his truck. "Did you drive here?"  

"I only live up the street, so I walked," she tells him. "Are you still sober enough to drive?"  

"That drink was my only drink," he tells her unlocking his vehicle and opens the door for her. Once she's seated inside his truck, he closes the door and hurries to the driver's side and gets in. Starting the car, he turns on the heat having it on full blast as he drives towards the Lakefront Trail.  

"So, what are you planning to do with me, Detective?" she questions as she turns slightly to look at him. 

"I'm planning to give you the greatest birthday of all time," he smiles smugly glancing at her quickly before focusing back on the road. "Have you eaten tonight?" 

"Does peanuts at Molly's count?" she says, joking 

"No way," he chuckles. "First stop, dinner."  

Y/N tilts her head back laughing loudly at a childhood story Jay tells her. It involved him and his brother competing for a girl they both had a crush and she ended up choosing some other kid to go with to one of their school dances.  

"It was so embarrassing," Jay chuckles as they walk down the Lakefront Trail.  

After dinner, he took her ice-skating which she's done before this evening before he drove them to a part of the Lakefront Trail he often frequents.  

"If it helps, if I was that girl, I would have chosen you," she smiles. 

He moves his hand against hers, his fingers interlocking with hers as he holds her hand. When she doesn't pull her hand away, he stops walking causing her to also stop. He moves to stand in front of her, looking into her eyes. "Would you really choose me?" 

"Definitely," she affirms looking back up at him. He stands a good few inches taller than her 5 ft 4 frame. "But I barely know you and haven't met your brother yet so, I could change my mind," she adds, teasing him. 

"Then maybe you should get to know me some more," he says stepping closer to her, the hand that wasn't holding hers moving to her waist. 

"I guess I should since you just gave me the greatest birthday of all time," she smiles. 

Y/N was glad her family and friends were out of town, that she didn't spend her birthday holed up in her apartment with the pizza and cheap bottle of wine. She didn't know what she did to deserve a night like tonight, but she thanked God that she did because it was the best night she's had in a long time. Tonight felt like a dream and she didn't want it to end.  

"I don't want this night to end," she adds voicing her thoughts. 

"It's not over yet," he says as he leans forward lightly brushing his lips against hers before pulling away only a little, keeping their faces close to each other. 

Y/N lets go of his hand, cupping his face and pulling him in to kiss her properly. As his lips press to hers, a heat travels through her body, warming her from her head to her toes. His lips are soft against hers. She can taste the hot chocolate and mint still lingering on his lips from when they got their hot drinks after ice skating.  

She breaks the kiss trying to catch her breath as the kiss leaves her breathless. Keeping Jay close she manages to speak barely above a whisper, "You want to take me home, Detective?" 

"I would love to," he says kissing her once more, before taking her hand back in his as they walk back to his truck, getting to know each other a little more. 

TAGGED: @mrspeacem1nusone - @halsteadbrasil - @allisonargent144 - @rainydayteacups - @alexxavicry

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[rainsiide]

Page 𝐎𝐍𝐄: Welcome to the Academy.

in which you find yourself a brand new student at southland all girls academy. and you also find yourself in a love triangle with polar opposite of students, yu jimin and ning yizhuo. wit masterlist

warning you! y/n doesn’t have much dialouge, we only meet karina in this part, implied meangirl!karina, karina is mentioned with no dialouge, ning isn’t introduced yet, lowercase intended, slight vile language

whatever it takes: the series. / wc: 1.9k

“this what you should want for yourself.” your dad said, throwing both of your suitcases in the trunk of your cab. the one that sending you off to the airport. and the airport that was departing you off to the “prestigious performing arts academy” as said by your dad. you only sat leaned against the trunk he had shut. a frown prominent on your face. his face spoke loud. you doubted there was no convincing him to take you back inside. he put a arm around your shoulder, placing a small kiss on your forehead. “trust me y/n.” he said. he then slipped a necklace around your neck, ever so gently laid on your neckline. “don’t lose it, okay?” he said. you nodded and slid into the backseat of the cab. you felt the vibration of your dad hitting the backside of the cab, signaling for him to drive off.

the cab fixed his mirror and drove on his way to the destination of the airport. the roads were bumpy, the highways were filled. honks, the wind passing by, and the gentle music of the radio. soon you found yourself in front of a airport. two suitcases by you. then a woman approached you. “are you are y/n?” she questioned you. you only nodded, curious of who she was. she was a rather clean woman with short dark hair.

“Dr. Kang, a pleasure to meet you. I thought it’d be more formal to meet you and travel with you, instead of waiting upon your arrival at our airport.” she smiled, a little to nicely. she gave her formal warnings and took a suitcase from you. you followed her cluelessly as you scanned through many security checkpoints. scanning your passport and then finding yourself at a terminal. she sat with her legs crossed. not many words were exchanged between you both. your fingers mindlessly played with each other in a awkward silence. you watched people walk past, small chatter between others.

soon your boarding was called and yourself walking through the tube and into the plane, Dr. Kang right behind you. you settled into your seat, rested against the window and to no surprise Dr. Kang was seated snuggly right next to you. again no words were exchanged, she smiled politely and rested her head back. returning the smile and looking out the window. nervous, excited, and worried for what was to come.

the plane soon landed at the destination. you had been awoken from your nap by the signal of the singing of the seatbelt button. watching the plane land, the bumpy stride against the ground. soon the plane doors opened and everyone was dismissed. you followed behind Dr. Kang, as she led you to the roundabout of suitcases. she continuously checked her watch as the suitcases started to come out. one suitcase was grabbed, then the other one. “come now, i’d like to not have our driver waiting. hm?” she smiled politely. then walking off rather fast and you trailed behind her. the crisp air hit you like a speeding train. you then saw a a men, standing next to a black truck. you wondered how much your dad had dropped to send you here. Dr. Kang greeted him as she opened the front door for her and the back door for you, taking the suitcases and placing them in the trunk. he then slid into the driver seat and drove off. you wondered if everybody at the academy was this quiet.

buildings pasted, everything was fresh in new. where you were from, you’d have to drive miles and hours to see buildings like these. a thousand questions crossed your mind, and you weren’t sure if many of them had any answers.

“don’t be nervous, you’ll love it here y/n”

you only nodded at her words, giving her a smile as she turned back forward facing the road from her passenger seat. the car then turned into a road with a gate. something was said and the gate opened, slowly approaching a campus surrounded by rather big building(s). your door was opened by the man and he had both your suitcases in hand. Dr. Kang got out shortly after and beckoned for you both to follow her. you went through the rather grand doors and you were met with several girls walking, chatting and laughing through the hall. you caught the eye of some, sending you a polite smile, some sending you a awkward eye. you paid it no mind, you were new. they could probably tell from your out of place clothing and the suitcases.

you found yourself in a hallway with numbers on doors and name in slots. you still followed Dr. Kang as she told you she would lead you to your dorm room. she had told you about your roommate, how nice and respectful she was, and a good person to room with. you hoped it wasn’t a bad act. as you arrived at the dorm, eight six four. the door swung open to a rather happy looking girl.

“hi im isa! it’s so good to finally meet you. i’ve been preparing for days!” she said happily, smiling as she pulled you in to the room. it was spacious to say the least. the first thing seen was a lounging area with two doors opposite of each other.

“have you ever shared a room with anybody?” she asked.

“no, i haven’t.” you said a little lost.

“it’s always a great time for new experiences then!” she said, she opened a door to the left which was a bedroom, one side fully decorated, and the other side a blank canvas. as well as two closets opposed to each other. once again one blank and the other one filled, a little to filled. Dr. Kang had the man place your suitcases by your bed and was dismissed. she then turned you with her hands together.

“welcome to the academy y/n, we are glad to have you join as a new student. your uniform should arrive before tonight and so will your schedule. please make yourself and home and isa will show you around campus. my office is A129, downstairs, if you need me.” she said. “any questions?” she asked.

“no ma’am”

“great, then i’ll be on my way. i hope you enjoy your time here y/n.” she said, then leaving the dorm, hearing the dorm click shut. isa’s smiley face turned to you.

“so y/n, where are you from, what made you come here?” she questioned, curiosity in her voice.

you started to move your suitcase and unpack them, finding hangers and hanging things up in the closet, putting shoes at the bottom. thinking about what to respond with.

“i’m from the south, with my dad. i didn’t really have a choice to come here, kinda just was told and now.. im here.” you responded.

“hm.” she hummed, sitting on her bed. “well whenever your done unpacking just let me know! we can take a tour around campus.” she said as she got off her bed and left the bedroom to give you space. you hummed in response and continued to put things away. putting on bedsheets and putting on pillow cases that were a little to big. you put some things in your bedside drawer and hoped she wouldn’t look through it. you slipped on some house shoes and left the room. telling isa you were to take the tour. she got up and told you to follow her.

isa led you back downstairs as you guys walked next to each other, she went to the front desk to request your locker key for you and handing it to you. then you followed her to a big dining hall. “this is where we have breakfast, lunch, and dinner. and sometimes snacks. there’s always stuff to grab and the food is to die for!” she said, there weren’t many people in there. only the servers and a couple of girls eating something small. she then passed through the other entrance of the dining hall and led you to a open area of grass and small picnic tables and a small hill. “this is the courtyard, everybody kinda comes down here just to chill. there’s not much to do out here really but it’s good to get fresh air. but whatever you do, don’t go past the hill. last time someone went back there, no one heard from her again.” she said. if she was trying to scare you in definitely worked.

she then led you to the common room. this was the most girls you’ve seen all day. it was clear they were separated by group, age, and interests. “here follow me, you can meet my friends!” she said, leading you to a corner table filled with three girls. a pink haired girl that honestly stood out to you the most, a dark haired girl with a frown, and a oddly short one with short hair.

“hey isa, whose your new friend?” the shortest one asked.

“this is y/n guys! she’s the new student and my roomie!” she gently nudged you forward to say hi to them.

“it’s nice to meet you guys.”

they smiled back at you and introduced theirselves as aeri, or giselle, jiheon, and soyeon.

“enjoying your first day?” jiheon asked, her head resting on her chin curiously. you gave a shrug since you’ve been there for a little over two hours. as they all immersed in conversation, you looked between giselle and jiheons head, you caught the eye of a tall dark red haired girl. you got curious about her only because she seemed have uncommon hair color. that was a dumb reason, a pink haired girl was sitting right in your face. but her face, and her hair, and her everything caught your attention.

“y/n, don’t look over there!” isa nudged you as she looked in between jiheons and giselles head with you. “look at them the wrong way and they’ll make your first year hell.” she sighed moving your head to a different direction. you were lost to why they’d make your first year a living hell for looking at her or the other people you didn’t seem to notice sitting at her table.

“definitely will, trust me. i learned the hard way.” aeri responded. she told you about her horror stories of her first year. which was really the backstory of how they all became friends, just not in a sunshine’s and rainbows way. you decided not to question their judgement and admire the girl from afar.

“the red haired one is yu jimin, or also karina. she’s probably the most decent one, i guess. the rest of them are like spawns of evil. ann yujin, and nakamura kazuha.. watch out” soyeon warned as she peeked behind her for a quick second then turning back around. hoping they didn’t see her.

later on in the day, isa took you down to the dining hall to have dinner with her soyeon, jiheon, and giselle. you guys talked about classes that you were clueless of, other girls they’ve heard rumors about and you put many names to faces. you hoped you found no trouble in the academy.

when you arrived back to the dorm room you found your schedule and your uniform neatly folded in a plastic bag. you unlocked the door and to your shared bedroom with isa. laying down, your mind wondered a thousand miles per hour. how will the academy treat you?

taglist: @hopeless-y, @1luvkarina

[evans23]

RICKMAS 2024 - DAY 18 - SECRET VISITOR

Pairing : Snape x OC (daughter of Harry)

Summary : You are the daughter of the famous Harry Potter. But the burden of your name and your family is heavy on your shoulders. But a tenebrous potion master has noticed you.

Tag(s)/Warning(s) : Slight mention of depression. Ghost.

Also read on AO3 - Wattpad

You didn't particularly like the end of year celebrations. That's why you had asked to stay at Hogwarts this year. Your parents had been disappointed and your mother and grandmother had kept begging you to come back, but you didn't want to.

Being the last born of the Potter family was your burden. James, your eldest, was a real celebrity at Hogwarts. Seeker of the quidditch team, popular with the girls and even with the teachers despite his insolence.

Albus was calmer, more serious. Everyone said that he would accomplish great things like the two wizards whose name he bore.

And then, there was your big sister, Lily. She attracted boys, was intelligent and one of the most popular Gryffindors.

You were the youngest, the little surprise-bonus as your mother called you. You hadn't been planned, but you were loved nonetheless. Except that you always felt a little bit apart, a little bit left out. You had ended up in Hufflepuff, and although your parents assured you that it meant nothing to them, you could see that not being a Gryffindor was like a small burden, but a small burden that you shared with Albus since he himself wasn't a Gryffindor but a Slytherin.

At home, your brothers and sister were always too busy to really take an interest in you. You were just a whisper among all these prestigious people who sat at your table at Christmas. The idea of ​​spending another Christmas alone while being surrounded by people, laughter and conversations in which you never found your place worried you so much that you knew you had made the right choice by staying at Hogwarts.

Only seven students, including you, had stayed at Hogwarts this year and you took advantage of a break in surveillance to wander the corridors without any specific goal. You had put on a warm coat over his pyjamas and, your eyes lost in the distance, you wondered if you would ever find his place.

You had just reached the astronomy tower when an icy wind swept the stairs, almost making it fall. It was then that a translucent silhouette appeared right in front of you.

You jumped more out of surprise than fear, it was not uncommon to come across ghosts at all hours of the day and night. Except that you did not know this ghost, and you must have been the only student at Hogwarts who could boast of knowing all the ghosts in the castle, because they were often your best company. Even Peeves could make you smile when he found you crying, hidden in the stairs leading to the dungeon.

"Who are you ?" you asked, your voice higher than you intended.

Across from her, a tall man with stern features and eyes as dark as his hair was staring at her.

"Severus Snape," he finally said.

You gaped. You knew who he was of course, a hero, the one without whom the war could never have been won, the one to whom your father owed so much.

"Severus Snape," you repeated stupidly.

"I doubt that's your name," he said sarcastically.

"I'm [Y/N] Potter," you answered.

He looked at you even more intently. You didn't really look like your father, except for the green eyes you shared, and you hadn't inherited anything from your mother except for your red hair. Your features weren't really Potter, and you weren't really Weasley. You didn't look like anyone.

"I know who you are. I've watched you many times."

"Really ?" you asked surprised.

"Really. The first time... the first time, I thought I saw a ghost."

You looked at him without understanding. He sighed heavily before inviting you to sit on one of the steps of the large stone staircase.

"I came the day you started school for the first time. I wanted to know where the last Potter offspring would end up. I was hoping that another Potter would find his place in my house. I recognized you right away," he explained.

"Because of my red hair ?" you asked with a pout.

You hated the colour of your hair that had often earned you teasing in primary school.

"No. Because you look like him."

"Who ?" you asked with curiosity evident in your voice.

"Lily. Lily Evans. Your grandmother."

"Really ?"

"Can you stop always saying really each time I tell you something ? Is it so hard to believe me ? You look exactly like her at the same age."

"Dad sometimes talks to me about her. She was perfect. Like him. Like my brothers and sister."

Snape raised his eyebrows, intrigued.

"Do you feel overshadowed, Miss Potter?"

You hesitated, biting your lip.

"I... I don't particularly aspire to be popular. I just... I wish I wasn't in the shadow of James and Lily, my sister. James is funny and charismatic, even at home it's all about him. Mum often takes care of Albus because he's more sensitive and Dad... he tries toe hide it but I can see he has a preference for Lily," you said almost in a whisper.

She looked up at Snape, expecting a hint of judgment in his expression or a sneer at her complaints, but he just watched her with quiet intensity.

"You underestimate yourself, Miss Potter."

"Easy for you to say when you're a hero," you replied with a shrug.

"I'm not a hero and I never have been. I did what I did to redeem myself, to redeem my mistakes. You carry a heavy family name and you come from a lineage that weighs heavily on your shoulders, but your talent, even if you can't see it now, is yours alone and the day you let it blossom, then your inner light will shine brighter."

"What if I can't do it ?" you asked, eyes shining with unshed tears.

"You have to believe that you can do it."

You didn't answer, but Snape's words resonated within you stronger than ever.

"Why are you never seen among the other ghosts ?" you dared to ask.

"Because I hate being surrounded by idiots. And the last thing I want is for some idiot student to come after me and ask me even stupider questions than they did."

You laughed softly, understanding that this castle was as much a sanctuary as a prison for Snape's mind.

"Do you think you're still here for a reason ?" you asked, looking at the snow that had started to fall again.

"I don't know. I think people like me never really find peace. But that's fine with me. I don't really deserve it."

"I think everyone deserves peace. Life is hard enough as it is without being tortured in the afterlife."

"Those are very wise words, Miss Potter. But you don't know anything about life yet. You are privileged, even if you can't find your place among your people. And I wish you, [Y/N], that you never have to know the harshness of existence."

He looked at you with even more intensity, his dark eyes filled with a mixture of melancholy and harshness.

Suddenly, the school clock began to chime. It was midnight.

"Merry Christmas, [Y/N]," Snape said with a slight smirk, so small that you almost thought you had imagined it.

"Merry Christmas, Professor Snape."

He turned away from you, and he left through the window before disappearing completely. You stood still for a moment, staring at the spot where he had stood a few moments earlier, your heart pounding, then, you straightened up, a slight smile on your lips, and you returned to your common room.

For the first time in a long time, you no longer felt alone. You knew even if he hadn't said anything about it, that your secret visitor tonight was watching over you like a silent guardian. And something deep inside you told you that this wouldn't be the last time you'd see him.

[itsmepage]

Rose

Anthony J. Crowley x Fem! Vampire! Reader || Hey guys, sincere apologies for anybody who enjoy The Snake and The Bat series but I felt like it was too dark then way I intended it to go. I also wanted x reader and ineffable husbands separate because neither them are the type of people to except a love triangle and Crowley deserves all the proper romance in the world, so I created this instand. Again apologies. I hope this makes up for it. Enjoy lesbians <3

PART 1

Summary: Your long time demon friend, Crowley allows you to feed from him when you see each other again after the events of Armageddon

Touch of Dark Romance & Spice

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, kissing, moaning, licking, touching, teasing, vampire referring to as people food/victims, temptations being mentioned, mention of feeding from a squirrel, expression of hunger for blood, mention of Armageddon & murder

_✍︎︎

You and Crowley met in a pub during couple years back. It was a red moon during a settle night in central London. You’ve walked in to visit a small crowd, which made it easier for you to spot a victim. A center gentlemen catches your attention.

Up to this point, most of your feeding was from woman, mainly due to ’personal’ preference. Soft skin, elegant voices, and sweet, sweet blood. However there was something about the red-head that drew you towards the creature. He had looks, no doubt about it- even you could see that. His bangs were curled that slicked back smoothly to his scalp, like a wave or a snake. His skin was blending in with the lighting in the atmosphere: bown and black painted walls, darkness outside the windows and low lights inside the building that almost made his skin glow. His black clothing was like the icing on the cake, showing off his waist, one that women would be jealous of. He hid his eyes through shades and if you look just right: you would see yellow eyes creeping in the lenses. He was like a painting you had to admit, made you stare longer than you probably should have. But his looks were not the only reason you were staring. There was something about red hair in dark glasses and clothing that pulled you in time, as if you were walking with the same person who been living for centuries. The strong smell also help that assumption.

Your suspicions were confirmed correct, when you sat down and approached him. You’ve attempting to pulled the mysterious man in your bait not realizing your pray was a predator, a big one at that. “If you want food little fang, there’s a lady sitting right there who’s begging to taken..“ he joke in the moment when the two of were we light flirting. Pointing to a young woman who was alone looking around the room, nervous, bouncing her leg. You quenched your nose in slight disgust, she wasn’t your type; your expression changed, turning back to the red-head taking a sip of his own drink. He knew you a Vampire. When you asked him how, he confessed: “I’m a demon, I know things.“ Piece by piece everything began to click. It started in 1880s when you first were transformed. You were at ball where thousands of gorgeous woman were present in ravishing dark clothing as they Waltz with their partners. A single lady caught your eye, she was beautiful, and she could be perfectly described as the demon sitting right next to you. Hair up and waved in bun a her long luscious grown complemented her figure. It’s no wonder you recognized her beauty. “I’m surprised, we haven’t run into each other until now.” You laughed, only really meaning finally having a conversation after being acquaintances for centuries.

The two became good friends ever since, calling whenever a favor is needed like help with a temptation rather it was for the demon’s or the vampire benefit, mainly the vampire, or calling just to talk or hang out. Making you fond of the red-head you’ve met.

Now, Crowley was on your couch drinking the wine you’ve gave him. She crashed into your apartment just couple days after Armageddon. Crowley was telling you everything that was happening leading up to that point since they were so busy, it wasn’t like he could call to catch you up on the latest news. “They tried to kill you?“ you asked her, worry showing in your voice. “Ehh..“ Crowley shook his head, “‘tried’ was the key-word Rose, both of us just got something humans call: ‘a good-old slap on the wrist.’” Crowley snickered, taking an another sip of her drink, you smiled at the nickname Crowley gave you over the years. ’Rose’ is what the demon called you, referring to his love plants and gluing it to your style and form of nature. despite being practically your name to her, the poetic charm still made you blush.

“By the way-“ Crowley called out to you, placing her drink on the coffee table in front of him. “I thought you said you ate.“ Crowley said leaning back on the couch, leaving you confused. You opened your mouth to say something but, “I could tell Rose.” Crowley said like a stern mother. “I did.“ you told honestly, crossing your legs on the chair that stood right next to your couch. Crowley hunched her shoulders. “A squirrel is not gonna do you any good.“ Crowley called you out. “I’m aware of that, and I’ll manage.“ You laughed defending yourself. “I simply didn’t have enough time to find and lure food, but- pardon me if this sounds shabby, but… I did really miss your company.. so...“ You admitted, looking at the demon’s tilted head, questioning like he was a dog. You stood up from your chair, taking a seat on the couch sitting right next to her. “I didn’t want to be late seeing you again.“ You blushed shly. Crowley nodded, picking up her drink. “Well.. I’m flattered.“ he said smiling pouring the rest of the liquid into their mouth, before placing back on the low-cut table. “I’ve.. missed you too.“ Crowley admitted taking off her glasses to reveal himself to you.

Silence in the room followed right after that, strange comfortable silence that seemed to disguise awkwardness to a gentle, romantic hue. It was probably due to the smell of Crowley. he wrenched of sweet alcohol too, like cherry wine. You felt something siring in your stomach, making hard tell if was hunger or if it was just Crowley. Your eyes turned to her hand that rested on their thigh, the vains that were visible admittedly made your mouth drool. Without a word, you gently took his hand, the Demon giving you permission to do so in silence. You traced the alignments of the vains on her soft skin, tickling your own and pulling yourself into the demon’s haze. “May I ask why you’re doing this?“ Crowley asked calmly, her eyes analyzing your face and your actions. “You’re such a beautiful creature, darling..“ You spit out turning his hand to view their plam as your nails scraped gently across the skin. “Can’t help but take a closer look..” you finished, continuing to tickle him before they unexpectedly pray her hand out of your grasp caressing your jaw, pulling you in for a kiss. You melted into Crowley’s soft touch; humming in their lips and breathing in her Intoxicating smell. The kiss was gentle but desperate as Crowley teased your lips intentionally keeping the barrier between yours and their mouth. Eventually, he pulled away, her enchanting yellow eyes staring into your own. “You’re doing a poor job managing your hunger, Rose.“ they practically whispered.

His thumb moving left to right on your lower cheek. You now found it hard to control your breathing, falling in to deep into her spell. “Was it on purpose?”Crowley whispered again, “huh?” was all you could say, their soft touch and alluring smell turned your brain into mush, the taste of his lips rest on the tip of you tongue; all your strength was occupied not to pounce on them. “Was it. On. purpose?” Crowley repeated the question and only then you understood what she was asking you. “No.. No, it wasn’t on purpose..” Crowley was asking you if the meal you skipped was done on purpose: so you’ll had an opportunity to feast on your friend’s blood. Wait. Why would they ask that? Crowley tilted his head at your answer and gave you a look in a way that you couldn’t tell if she believed you or not; either way, she took it as an answer. They gently pulled his hand way from your jaw, his fingers tip tickling your skin making you sigh in disappointment, but you look down to see Crowley removed the tie around his neck, unbuttoning more of her undershirt to leave more skin expored to you. Your breath hitched as smell lingered stronger. But you collect yourself for a second, even with the deep growing tension. “Wait, Crowley, you don’t have to-“ you try to protest but they stopped you, interrupting your speech. “I want to.“ he said. Knowing you’ll rather starve to death than allow Crowley to give in to you, well, if she didn’t want to give into you. She slivered their hand to the back of head moving his fingers in your hair, pulling you in, inches away from her face. Oh, god, you wanted too. You wanted too ever since you meet her. First out of curiosity, now, out of craving. All because of bittersweet smell she had that was so incredibly intoxicating to you. “I know you’ve been wanting to feed from me.” he said. You felt your heart jump, as your eyebrows narrowed. Crowley chuckle at your reaction. “Did you think you can fool me, Rose? I can smell it.” So that’s why he asked you that question.. “Your hunger, your desire, your lust..“ she hissed out the last word, kissing your neck, tempting you. You whimpered. “Please, don’t worry Rose, You won’t hurt me, I don’t think you can.“ Crowley played with the back of your scalp to comfort you. Reading your thoughts before pulling you in another kiss to help encourage the predatorial urge.

Her hand moved to your cheek as his tongue finally crept into your mouth making you moan at the subtle action. The desperation kick around this kiss. Your lips were plush and tired when he you pulled away from you. The whole time, you were instinctively touching the veins of their neck, memorizing it’s pattens. The demon moved her hand back of your neck, pulling you close as he began to lay down on the couch, taking you with them. “Take as much as you like..“ Crowley whispered, making shivers go down your spine. “..and feel free to take your time with me.“ That sentence alone made you feral. You pressed your lips onto her cold skin. Kissing and licking a particular spot that got the snake to slither his hands around you. Gripping your hair and moving her fingers on your waist their sharp breathing being like music to your ears. It made you smile on her neck.

[questionable-intimacies]

Whitley's meeting

Whitley had cleared his day to give this meeting his full attention. According to the grapevine in Whitley's club, speaking to Cinder Fall, the new CEO of Salem Inc., was profitable for its sake. The merger Cinder had proposed with the Schnee Dust Corporation was also remarkably lucrative for costs so manageable that slave labor had to be involved. As the cherry on the split, Cinder had offered Whitley the services of Emerald Sustrai, her secretary.

Whitely had, at first, wondered about that spicy-sweet scent the dark-skinned woman wore when she entered the conference room by Cinder’s side.

Now, as Whitley pressed his naked, sweat-slicked chest down on Emerald’s equally naked and sweat-slicked back and breathed out the urge to lose himself in the marshy riptide that dribbled sticky and free down the inside of Emerald’s thighs, Whitley could not resist burying his face into the steaming pit under Emerald’s arm and filling his brain to buzzing with the pungent, homely smell.

Whitley had only intended to satisfy his curiosity, scents being the one thing that Whitley noticed above all else during his moments of intimacy. However, when Emerald’s body kicked abruptly against Whitley’s, Whitley could have written down the composition of Emerald’s perfume by the time he bent the furiously clenching filly face-first over the long conference room table, and forced down her intense orgasm with both his cock throbbing hilt deep up Emerald’s cunt, and a series of softly insistent kisses along Emerald’s back up to her neck.

“My, my. Most men don’t last after one of Emerald’s orgasms.”

Cinder’s voice had the quality of making Whitley think twice about having his cock smothered in Emerald’s pussy while he talked business with Cinder. With a long, fierce kiss, Whitley pulled out of Emerald and left her bent over the conference room table, silently fuming about her deflated state before Cinder Fall.

Whitley, meanwhile, fell back into his seat at the head of the conference table just across from where Emerald was. Cinder was not far behind as she perched herself carefully on the armrest of Whitley’s chair and ran her nails up and down Whitley’s thigh.

“I’m sure now, Mr. Schnee, that we are on the same page regarding my proposal?”

Whitley leaned back in his chair and grunted approvingly at the feeling of Cinder’s fingers across his skin. He did not turn to look at Cinder directly because, from where Whitley sat, all he would see would be down Cinder’s open shirt and her cleavage, and it all felt to Whitley like an exercise in futility.

Whitley did, however, languidly raise his hand and, matching the pace of Cinder’s fingers on his thigh, traced the curve of Cinder’s breasts with his knuckles. Whitley then said.

“Honestly, Ms Fall, your proposal is as sound as it reasonably could be. But coming from a company with only months of operation? You came highly recommended, no doubt. However, agreeing to this deal would be …”

Whitley cast around for the best way to express himself and then found himself staring down Cinder’s shirt.

“… Would be diving headfirst into a pit of complications.”

Cinder stood up and walked around to face Whitley. Cinder then started to unzip her skirt.

“Mr. Schnee, your concerns are reasonable but unfounded. Salem Incorporated stock has held a steady increment since the last financial quarter. Not to mention the fact that I have come to meet you with naked sincerity.”

Cinder’s skirt was left on the floor, leaving her sincerity in Whitley’s full view. All Cinder wore were black garters, frilled stockings, and a dark patch of hair between her thighs trimmed into a diamond. Cinder then smiled, straddled Whitley’s lap, and tickled Whitley’s cock with the stiff patch of hair that covered the patch of flesh beneath Cinder’s toned belly.

Finally, Cinder guided Whitley’s hands onto her breasts and said.

“I’m sure you can see that the proposal is rich with opportunity for the both of us.”

Cinder’s words traced circles in Whitley’s mind while his thumbs traced circles around Cinder’s nipples through both her shirt and her bra. Cadolle, if Whitley was not mistaken.

“Your argument is truly heavy with reason and good sense,” Whitley mumbled softly as the heat from Cinder’s body focused Whitley’s attention down between his legs, “how could I say no?”

“Excellent!” Cinder said before she shot forward and kissed Whitley. Whitley was at full mast in an instant, and as Cinder’s kiss deepened, Whitley stripped Cinder’s shirt off her shoulder and reached around Cinder’s back to unclip Cinder’s bra.

Cinder slid her hips forward, and her pussy swallowed Whitley’s cock whole. A devastating wave of heat and soup-thick wetness flattened Whitley’s defenses, and before Whitley could pull himself together, Cinder pinned Whitley’s hands to the chair above his head.

“Apologies. I’m shy.”

Cinder then began to ride Whitley. More machine than any woman, pleasure coming recklessly fast from all sides at once together with the stamina of a generator. Whitley was helpless, and as he fought to resist Cinder, he caught glimpses of Emerald sitting on the table she was previously lying on, watching Cinder at work. At the same time, Emerald's dark hand plunged again and again into the wetness between her legs, and the pale tips of her darksome breasts were as painfully erect as Whitley, engulfed in Cinder's belly.

Whitley was soon at the edge, pinned by thighs that burned to the touch, and begging both himself and Cinder for another second, another moment, a miracle to turn the tables. Whitley managed to resist Cinder’s best efforts to tip him over. The stalemate dragged on for a few more minutes, and Cinder grew tired of the game; she stopped riding Whitley and leaned forward so that Whitley could see the gentle rise and fall of her breasts snug in her bra.

“You know something, boy?” Cinder whispered to Whitley, “I am waiting for the man who could make me cum, and shave me … down there.”

Whitley gasped as he stared down at Cinder’s pussy, then up into Cinder’s wicked gold eyes.

“Unfortunately, you are not that man.”

Whitley’s cock spasmed once more as he could no longer resist. Desperately, Whitley tried to bury himself as deep as he could into Cinder. Unfortunately, Cinder was too quick for Whitley's sex-dulled reflexes, and the warm tightness of Cinder’s body was replaced with the wholly less impressive pressure of Emerald’s breasts.

“No!” Whitley squealed, “please!”

White ropes of cum exploded out from between Emerald’s cleavage. Whitley bucked and bellowed helplessly while Cinder smiled indulgently at his side as she watched Emerald pay back Whitley for making her cum.

When Whitley was finally empty, Emerald stuck her tongue out at the whipped Schnee and spread her breasts so that the last thing Whitley would see was his cum oozing impotently down Emerald’s dark chest.

First mother, Whitley fumed to himself hours after Cinder and Emerald had left; now Cinder Fall. All this is getting out of hand!

At length, Whitley rolled his eyes and spoke into an intercom as he dressed.

“Ms Amitola, please get me the latest financials for Salem Incorporated.”

Whitley then looked down at his naked legs and added.

“Also, I’ll be needing you for an hour to help clean up this mess in the conference room."

[aceofspades-sml]

How does it feel to have lived my dream of seeing Lindsay as Katherine-

Can I ask for details abt her performance? What was her Katherine like, how was she different from Bronte or Bobbie? :0

Hi ! Sorry this took me so long to answer, I just had two big days and needed to organize my notes about the show

And so, Lindsay Katherine. I wasn't expecting to enjoy her as much as I did but she was truly incredible. She was also very different from both other Katherines (I am mostly familiar with Bronté's Kath so will mostly talk about how Lindsay's is different from her but from what I know about Bobbie I can just tell you they are not the same at all)

Even physically speaking she is established as different from the others, her dress isn't cut the same way and is a very dark blue with white stripes and she has lighter curly hair (I used to have doubts about curly haired Kath but oh my god she was perfect). In my opinion she looks a bit older as well, both physically and in her behaviour.

One of the differences that struck me the most, because I remember it already struck me with Bronté, was that while Bonté's cast is openly extremely sarcastic, always mocking and mimicking other people, especially in act 1, Lindsay Kath was very sarcastic as well but in a really deadpan way, both in her voice and her facial expressions. Her delivery of lines such as "Cheeky boy gets nothing for is trouble" and especially "What was the last strike you organized ?" really showed that, she just looked Jack dead in the eyes and delivered. In the same way, I think she made way less large and expressive gestures than Bronté's Kath, which was mostly obvious in Watch what happens- she moves less and everything is in her voice (said voice is absolutely amazing btw)

Maybe that's due to this but she also seemed extremely serious, though not in a strict way- my friend and I tried for hours to put words on that and failed so bear with me here, she was extremely invested in her job as a reporter while also genuinely caring about the newsies and their strike

All in one this Katherine seemed to express her emotions way less than Bronté's... until act 2. In Pulitzer's office she seemed to be desperately trying to justify herself, and despite not talking her face was clearly begging for Jack to believe her, to know that she never intended for things to go this way or to cause the newsies any harm and she just looked so sad-

And the scene on the rooftop before Something to believe in was absolutely heartbreaking as well because I had gotten used to that serious and deadpan Kath and here she just broke down, she was incredibly emotional and her voice broke at multiple moments when she was talking to Jack. Which was also the case with any other Katherine but it was particularly strking with Lindsay. The song itself was then really sweet and soft because she had let her walls down and her relationship with Michael's Jack was played really well in my opinion, once again really different from that of Bronté or Bobbie but absolutely perfect and very cute regarding her personality ! (I would love to see her with the other Jacks tho because I am really curious what her relationship with them would look like since both George and Matt are very different from Michael never gonna happen now haha *cries*)

To sum it up Lindsay was very different from every Katherine I have seen until now, she decided to show a whole other part of her personality and I honestly really liked it ! Not to mention that Lindsay herself was an absolute angel and was clearly incredibly happy she got to play this part. Good for her honestly because she slayed

[liiilyevans]

Because I dropped your hand while dancing Left you out there standing Crestfallen on the landing Champagne problems

Or, Astoria accidently shreds things when she's unwell. (A big thanks to the @cruelsummer-ficfest mods for the luck of getting this song as a follow up to my last fic!)

Read on AO3

The last place Astoria wanted to be was on a boat in the middle of the Gulf of Venice with a pretentious group of snobs. The things she did for her sister. She adjusted her dark sunglasses as she glanced around at all the boats in the marina. The wind whipped salt into her face, and Astoria fanned herself trying to cool down. How was she supposed to find Blaise’s boat among all these monstrosities? 

Annoyed, she continued down the dock, her heels clicking loudly against the wood. If one thing could be said for Astoria Greengrass, it was that she had an outfit for every occasion, which was the only good thing that her mother had taught her. Today she wore high waisted white pants with a white bow tied around her waist and a bodysuit with orange flowers and spaghetti straps that tied into neat bows on her shoulders. The heels weren’t practical — at all — but she wanted these motherfuckers to know she was coming. 

She stopped in the middle of the dock again, huffing as she searched for the Zabini boat. Surely, it was as ostentatious as Blaise was. Then she spotted it farther down, the Serafina, named for his mother. One of the bigger boats in the harbor, the Serafina had three decks. The back of the first allowing access to the boat and hosting two sets of stairs that led to the second deck. There was also a shaded outdoor sitting area, located under the second-floor deck. Astoria could see polyester couches and lounge chairs, all bolted down no doubt. On the second deck, there was a crescent sofa with a table in the center. The top deck was a replica of the second deck, but with more lounge chairs, for when Pansy wanted to tan most likely. 

Astoria hoped she burned and looked like a beet root on her wedding day. 

As she marched up the boat ramp, she heard the conversation on the boat quiet down, then Theodore Nott’s head was poking over the railing. His brows were furrowed in confusion until he spotted her. He grinned. Astoria hid her own smile as she waltzed onto the deck. 

The first thing she saw was the astonished face of Pansy Parkinson. Since school, she had let her hair grow out to her shoulders, though that hadn’t helped to disguise her hooded eyes. Draco Malfoy was there as well, his blonde hair shining so brightly it nearly blinded her. Daph had mentioned he’d be here. Like Pansy, he looked none too pleased to see her, his eyes narrowed slightly. The only person who looked remotely happy right now was Theo as he leaned against the railing a smirk in place. 

“Lovely day for an outing,” Astoria commented as she strode past them toward the inside of the boat. 

Pansy finally found her voice. “What are you doing here?” 

Spinning on her heel, Astoria whipped her glasses off, anger eddying through her. The gall of these people never ceased to amaze her. Marching back to Pansy, she pointed the tip of her sunglasses in the older girl’s face. “You had the nerve to ask my sister to be in your wedding when you’re marrying her ex-boyfriend, and I will be damned if I’m going to sit back and watch you rub that in her face.” 

When she finished, Pansy was sputtering loudly. Satisfied, Astoria placed her glasses back on her face. She turned around and spotted Draco, his mouth agape, and Theo, his hand covering his mouth, no doubt hiding his laugh. 

Just as she was about to walk away again, Pansy hissed, “Where is your sister anyway?” 

Daphne wasn’t here yet then. Good. Best to put everyone in their places before she got here and became embarrassed by Astoria’s behavior. “She’s on her way.” 

With that, she turned and marched toward the inside of the boat, intending to find her sister’s room and have a nap before she had to deal with these imbeciles again. 

#

It was going to be a very long weekend, and not even the alcohol could numb the sea of sharp smiles and barbed words. The only thing the alcohol managed to do was dull the headache that Astoria had gotten from listening to Pansy drone on about her honeymoon plans — a trip to Bora Bora apparently. Astoria would have been content to remain in Daphne’s room if Theo hadn’t coaxed her out with the promise of food. That was clearly a mistake. At least Theo was keeping her entertained with his facial expressions as Pansy prattled on. Clearly, she wasn’t the only one who thought the bride was ridiculous. 

Though she tried to stop herself, she couldn’t help sneaking glances at Draco. He was sitting across from her, his foot resting atop his opposite knee. She’d never admit it to anyone, but he looked nice in his light yellow shorts and blue and white checkered button-down. The sleeves weren’t rolled up, unlike Theo’s, and the cuffs buttoned. Odd considering it was a warm night. Pansy and her other bridesmaid, Tracey Davis, were standing next to Draco’s chair chatting away. If the way Draco was quickly sipping his wine was any indication, he was not enjoying the Bora Bora conversation either. 

They hadn’t spoken since their conversation at the Goyle ball a few months ago. Astoria never thought she’d be so intrigued by Draco Malfoy, but she was and she wanted to talk to him. However, he avoided her at all costs. Like right now, he wouldn’t even look at her, despite the fact that she’d been glancing over at him all night. 

“Are you trying to melt the side of his head with your eyes?” Theo asked quietly, taking a sip of his wine. 

Astoria sent him an annoyed look. “No, I’m not.” 

“Could’ve fooled me,” he muttered. 

Carefully crossing her legs, Astoria leaned toward Theo. “Tell me something.” 

“I thought you didn’t gossip,” he said. 

Astoria took another sip of her wine, ignoring the jab. “Why is Draco Malfoy being so quiet? He’s barely said two words all evening.” 

“He’s terribly in love with the bride and doesn’t know how to tell her,” Theo said seriously. She might have believed him if his lips didn’t twitch upwards in a smirk. His sense of humor had always been her favorite thing about him. When they were young, Theo would say the most ridiculous things with the most serious face, and Astoria had always found it hilarious. 

“Really,” she said. “Be serious.” 

Theo shrugged. “Maybe he’s afraid you’re going to bite his head off.” 

“Why would I do that?” 

“Because you almost took Pansy’s head off this afternoon?” 

Astoria couldn’t stop the smile that took form on her face. Pansy deserved every thorn she tossed in her side and more. Who in their right mind asked their fiancé’s ex to be in their wedding? Then again, who wanted their ex-boyfriend in their wedding? 

Apparently, an insecure Pansy Parkinson. 

To Draco’s credit, Astoria wasn’t sure that he and Pansy had even really dated. She had only heard rumors from Daphne that they had been together in their sixth year only for it to deteriorate in their seventh year. The rumors might have been just that — rumors — but Astoria didn’t really believe that considering how lecherous Pansy was. If that were the case, Draco seemed very unbothered by the whole affair, quietly sipping his wine and avoiding Astoria’s gaze. 

“Astoria, Pansy told me you’d be here.” 

Astoria glanced toward the edge of the boat and saw that the groom was finally making his appearance, his silhouette standing out harshly against the star flecked sky. Blaise Zabini was, by all standards, beautiful. He had the perfect facial structure, everything annoyingly symmetrical. Deep brown eyes sat perfectly in his face, and his nose was flat and sat just the right distance away from his mouth, which was constantly smirking. His dark skin stood out beautifully against the stars. But he had the personality of a viper and that completely ruined all his beauty. 

Blaise came to stand in front of her chair, then leaned his hand on the arm, trademark smirk in place. “How is your sister?” 

He knew better than to ask, the bastard. The arrogance in his voice coupled with the fact that her sister had yet to arrive caused Astoria’s ire to rush to the surface quicker than usual. Instead of answering, she stood up, making sure to press the tip of her heel into the top of Blaise’s shoe. His eyes widened as his breath hissed out through his teeth. Astoria didn’t move her foot until she was standing completely. 

“I think you should worry about yourself,” she said. “It looks like you’ve hurt your foot.” With that, she breezed past him, leaving a gaping Pansy and Tracey in her wake. After grabbing a bottle of Dom Pérignon off the drinks table, Astoria climbed the stairs to the second deck and didn’t stop until she’d reached the third and final deck. Finally, some peace and quiet to get rid of this headache. 

She sat down on the round table, not bothering with propriety. Raising the bottle to her lips, she took a long swig that her mother would have killed her for before flopping back on the table. The stars were beautiful tonight. She could see Ursa Major and Minor, and Cepheus and Cassiopeia next to him. She often wondered what it was like to be a star burning so bright that the whole world noticed you for a short time, knowing that one day soon all your fire would be gone and your light extinguished. Sometimes, she wondered if it was similar to how she felt. 

Quickly, she took another swig of champagne, trying to force her headache out of existence. After two more gulps, she realized that wasn’t working and sat up. Big mistake. The world started to spin. She closed her eyes, breathing in the salt of the ocean and feeling a light breeze brush against her skin. The sound of giggles reached her ears carried by the splashing of the ocean. Pansy and Tracey must have gotten over her outburst quickly, though she had no doubt that Blaise’s foot was still aching. That made her smile. 

A sudden feeling of loneliness swept over her as she listened to the waves crash against the boat. Though Theo might prefer her to everyone here, he wasn’t about to go out of his way to spend time with her. He was all about keeping his head down and surviving, like he had in the war. Where was Daphne? If she were here, they’d be silently communicating through shared looks, a secret language they had developed as children. Instead, she was stuck with a bunch of heinous idiots, one indifferent friend, and a mute pariah. 

Astoria kicked off her heels, messaging the arch of her foot. It was a shame the only way she could make herself taller was with heels. They were bloody useful weapons though. Taking another large sip of Dom Pérignon, she stared out over the faint lights of the marina. Her head was still pounding, and the alcohol couldn’t seem to chase it away. She spotted a man several boats down pulling his shirt off. As she took another swig from the bottle, she continued to watch him. A woman joined him on the deck of his boat wearing some long coverup. The man slid his arms around her into the coverup and, what was he doing? They weren’t planning to do something scandalous out in public, were they? 

Astoria was nosy as fuck, so she stood up quickly, only wobbling a little, much to her pride and astonishment, and climbed up onto the couch that was bolted into the deck next to the railing. The man had definitely grabbed her ass under that coverup. Squinting, Astoria leaned forward, her hand resting on the back of the couch for stability. She couldn’t see his other hand, but it had to be doing something as well. Faintly, she heard someone yelling Theo’s name, but she couldn’t be bothered with the menaces below right now. She thought she could make out the outline of the man’s hand sliding up the front of the girl’s cover up. Theo called her name; from rather close by, too, which was odd. Astoria chose to ignore him. The man was whispering to the woman now, no doubt muttering all sorts of obscenities. 

“Astoria!” 

She straightened up and turned to see what the ruckus was about. If Blaise was causing trouble again, she was going to take her high heel and ram it through his jugular. But it was only Theo approaching her slowly, both his hands in the air. Behind him standing near the stairs was Draco Malfoy, looking adorably rumbled by the wind, his grey eyes flicking between her and the railing. 

“Tori,” Theo said softly. “Come down from there, please.” 

Astoria glanced down at the couch then over the railing at the calm sea below. 

She sent Theo an annoyed look. “I’m not suicidal.” 

“No,” he agreed. “But you are very drunk.” 

Astoria rolled her eyes. As she was about to answer, she heard her name called from somewhere below. Glancing over the railing, she saw her sister on the boat ramp, her eyes blown wide as she stared up at her. Well, it was about fucking time. 

“Astoria!” Daphne called. “What are you doing here?”

Astoria held up the Dom Pérignon. “Drinking champagne.”

“Wh-” Daphne cut herself off and rested her head on her fingertips. “Nevermind. Just stay there. I’m coming up.” 

She turned back around to watch Theo and Draco watch her. They were both still clearly concerned, and Theo was biting his lip, a nervous tell of his. Astoria simply took another long drag from the bottle, which Draco didn’t seem to appreciate at all judging by the way he crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. Holding eye contact with him, Astoria continued to drink from the bottle until her lungs were burning. His eyes were like needles dragging across her skin, and that thrilled her; anything to focus on other than the pounding in her head. 

Daphne appeared then, pushing past Draco, not a hair out of place. Her sister was always perfect like that, with her blonde hair pulled back into a slick ponytail and not a flyaway to be found. Her looks were in such contrast with Astoria’s, the dark to Daphne’s light. Her sister stepped past Theo and offered her a hand. 

“Will you please come down from there?” she asked. 

Astoria shrugged, ignored her hand, and jumped down, wobbling only a little. She was quite proud of that. 

“What took you so long to get here?” she asked. Without her heels on, she was reminded of how short she actually was. Theo and Draco would both tower over her if she stood close to them, and Daphne was a good three inches taller than her. 

“Mum wanted me to do some errands today,” Daphne said. “What in the world are you doing here?” 

“I wasn’t leaving you with these people for a week,” she said, gesturing towards Draco and the bottom deck. 

He looked highly offended. 

Daphne dropped her head into her hands. “Oh, Astoria.” 

Astoria simply patted her on the arm before marching toward the stairs. All this excitement had made her tired. As she passed Draco, he glared daggers into her back. 

#

“I love you,” Daphne said, but Astoria could hear the exasperation in her voice. 

Her only response was to retch loudly into the toilet. If Blaise heard her, she would never live this down. Wiping her mouth, she gulped down air that smelled like cleaner and vinegar. After a few moments nausea free, Astoria gently braced her hands on the toilet bowl. She felt Daphne’s warm hands grasp her elbow and guide her to her feet. The sharp sound of water hitting the porcelain sink did nothing to lessen the raging sea in Astoria’s head. She cupped her hands under the cool water and splashed some on her face. The freshness and chill of the water was a nice contrast to the ache behind her temples. When she looked up, her eyes were rimmed in purple and bloodshot; looked like today was going to require a lot of concealer. Her skin was pale, too, like she’d stolen powder from an Inferi. 

“What are you doing here, Astoria?” Daphne asked. Looking through the mirror, Astoria could see that her sister had her arms crossed over her chest and her blue eyes fixed on her brown ones. Never a good sign. 

“I told you last night,” she croaked. “I’m not leaving you here with people who clearly like to see you suffer.”

“I can take care of myself, Astoria.”

She loved her sister, but no, she couldn’t — not when it came to her feelings. As much as Daph hated to admit it, Blaise leaving her for Pansy still bothered her, which Astoria was well aware of, and she was sure that Pansy knew that, too. 

“Why are you even in this wedding then?” she asked, her brown eyes studying her sister’s bright blue ones through the mirror. Daphne broke first, dropping her gaze and wrapping her arms around herself. Astoria always had the stronger will of the two of them. 

“Daddy and Mr. Parkinson are close,” Daphne muttered. “You know that-”

Astoria spun around, ignoring the nausea that hit her like a Reductor Curse. “I love Daddy but fuck him.” She grabbed her sister’s hands. Nothing mattered more when her sister was upset, not even her father. Astoria would hold the sea back to stop her sister’s tears. “Let’s get off this boat and find some nice villa to piss off to for the rest of the weekend. We’ll drink mimosas and find cute Muggles to show us the city.” 

Daphne gently untangled her hands from Astoria’s, shaking her pretty blonde head. “I can’t, Astoria. I said I was going to be in this wedding, and I meant it.” Daph blew out a breath. “I know Pansy meant the invitation to be a bridesmaid as an insult, but I want to prove to everyone that I can handle this without breaking.” 

Astoria shook her head. It was cruel, but she didn’t know if Daphne could do that. She wasn’t going to let her crumble alone though. 

“Alright. If you want to stay, we’ll stay.” 

#

Astoria needed two seconds where she didn’t have to listen to the high-pitched squeal of Pansy Parkinson or see the smug smirk that would slither across Blaise’s face whenever his eyes slid to Daphne. If she hadn’t walked out of that restaurant a few minutes ago, she would have flown across the table and punched Blaise right in the windpipe. They’d gone to a high-class restaurant near the end of the marina, and those two had been insufferable all night. Daphne was holding up admirably, but Astoria had to fight the urge to fling her steak knife at them to shut them up. So, she’d stepped out for some air and to make sure that her concealer and foundation were still holding up. 

Digging in her clutch, she found her plastic bag of Mary Jane and hemp paper inside it. Quickly, she rolled herself a joint. She supposed she looked rather scandalous; that was certainly what her mother would say. In her pretty blue halter dress with the back cut out of it, balloon sleeves hiding her arms, and a skirt that barely hit her mid-thigh, rolling a joint of marijuana. How unseemly. With a snort, she put the joint in her mouth and lit it. At least her headache was gone today; no more pounding behind her eyes making her feel like her brain was going to be washed out of her head. 

“What are you doing, Greengrass?” 

Astoria’s head whipped around, a loose strand of hair smacking her face as Draco made his way towards her. He looked as finely dressed as he always did, in a white button down, brown slacks, and a black jacket, which wasn’t a bad idea as there was a chill coming off the water tonight. His hair wasn’t slicked back today, instead resting softly against his forehead. He looked halfway normal, and not like pureblood royalty. 

Astoria took a long drag before answering. “I can’t be in there right now.” 

Draco glanced behind him. They were a good distance away from the restaurant, not that Astoria would have minded if anyone heard her. They already knew she detested them. She took that moment to study Draco. He seemed relaxed, no bunched muscles or nervously glancing away from her. It was unlikely that he’d put their previous conversation behind him — Astoria certainly hadn’t — but he seemed willing to let that go for tonight. When he turned back around, Astoria was still staring, and her own eyes caught his grey ones. If she squinted, she could make out little specs of blue. He seemed peeved that he’d caught her staring, but Astoria just took another drag from her joint, holding eye contact the whole time. 

“So why did you come out here?” she finally asked. 

“Your sister wanted to make sure you were ok,” he said, stuffing his hands into his coat pockets. 

“And she sent you?”

“I volunteered.” 

Astoria raised an eyebrow at that, and Draco only offered a shrug in response. When he stepped closer to her, Astoria held her ground, but he just walked to her side and rested his forearms on the railing. His gaze was fixed on the water, and he didn’t seem to be in a very talkative mood. That was alright. Astoria was sure she’d be able to coax a reaction out of him. 

“Are you just going to babysit me?” she asked. 

Draco sent her an annoyed look out of the corner of his eye. “No.” 

She took another drag of her joint before offering it to him. His eyes ran up and down her body suspiciously. That was fine. Astoria would be suspicious, too. She didn’t give things away for free, and the Mary Jane was her way of worming more of the truth from him. If alcohol persuaded him to open up before, surely this would mellow him out enough for her to wheedle more information out of him. 

Who knew she would be so interested in Draco Malfoy’s past? 

Finally, he took the joint from her, their fingertips brushing, and took a drag. Astoria let him keep it as she turned to lean against the railing too, close enough that their elbows brushed. After he took another hit, Draco offered the cigarette back to her. Gently, Astoria took it, rolling it between her fingertips. Until this moment, she hadn’t realized how intimate sharing a cigarette was. His lips had just been wrapped around this hemp paper and if she took another drag, that would mean that, in some abstract way, their lips had touched. It was conflicting. She didn’t want to touch Draco Malfoy’s mouth, but the thought wasn’t wholly unpleasant either. Trying to decipher her emotions could be so confusing. 

So, Astoria took another drag, letting the smoke sting her lungs and relaxation sweep through her body when she exhaled. 

“Why are you here?” she asked when she finished her cigarette. 

Draco gave her an incredulous look. “I’m in the wedding.” 

“No, I meant, why are you in the wedding?” 

Astoria couldn’t fathom why anyone would want to be involved in Blaise and Pansy’s wedding, yet here they all were. 

“Because Blaise asked me to be?” Draco said it like a question. His eyes ran over her again, and Astoria shivered. 

“But he’s marrying your . . .” She glanced up and down at him. “What is Pansy to you exactly?” 

Draco rolled his eyes. “Pansy was my occasional distraction from the real world. That’s all.” 

“So, you had sex with her to divert your mind from having to kill your headmaster? How original.” 

Draco’s head whipped toward her, and she thought he might berate her — tell her she was callous and cruel. Instead, he just let his eyes run over her, like he couldn’t believe that she’d said something so harsh. She expected some biting remark, was spoiling for one actually, but he was quiet, offering only a slight shake of his head. Then he pushed off the railing. 

“Let’s take a walk, Greengrass.” 

Astoria looked back at the restaurant. “But my sister-”

“Your sister can handle herself for a few hours,” Draco said. “But if you’d rather stay.” Then he shrugged and started toward the marina. 

Biting her lip, Astoria tried to decide whether to follow him or not. Daphne was certainly capable of holding off the vipers in that restaurant for a few hours, and she had Theo, who though he wouldn’t get involved, would offer her sympathy. There would be no one to siphon their poisonous words off Daphne. However, her sister made a point of telling her often throughout today that Astoria needn’t have come here in the first place, that she was capable of handling these snakes. She glanced at her watch. In the end, the temptation of Draco Malfoy proved to be too much. 

Hastily, Astoria bustled after him, careful not to catch her high heels in the cracks between the boards. When she reached his side, he didn’t stop or offer her any words, just kept walking along the dock. In moments where her feet ached from her heels, she remembered why she hated being short so much. It didn’t help that Draco was several inches taller than her and his stride much longer. Finally, they stopped near the end of the marina where there were very few boats docked. 

Astoria raised an eyebrow. “Is this where you lure young women to brutally murder them?” 

Draco scoffed. “Do you think about being brutally murdered often, Greengrass?” 

“Only the normal amount.” She stepped closer to him. “And you can call me Astoria. I did share my marijuana with you, after all.” 

He looked away from her, out toward the ocean, and what looked like a genuine smile swept over his face.

Astoria was entranced. 

“Alright. Astoria.” 

His eyes slid back to her as her name tumbled from his lips. Something fluttered softly in her chest for a brief moment. Before now, she hadn’t realized how beautiful his eyes were, how intricate the grays and blues were. It was mesmerizing. The fluttering was gone as quickly as it appeared, leaving Astoria staring embarrassingly into the depths of Draco’s eyes. Nimbly, she reached down and pulled her high heels off. 

“What are you doing?” Draco asked. 

Astoria didn’t answer, simply dropped her shoes on the dock and then sat down on the edge of it. The waves were gently tapping against the wood, almost like a drumbeat. Though slightly chilly, the water had no bite to it. Astoria kicked some water away from her, fighting back the urge to giggle. She doubted Draco had ever done anything so simple as stick his feet in the ocean before. 

“Are you just going to stand there?” she asked. 

He huffed. “What is the point of this?” 

“There isn’t a point,” she said, looking up at him. He was studying her as if she were some exotic sea urchin. “It’s just for fun.” 

Turning away from him, she began to undo the twist her hair was in. As it fell below her shoulders, she heard Draco exhaling sharply and the sound of shoes scraping the dock. He sat down next to her, and Astoria didn’t say a word as she shook her hair out, the curls justling around her face. When he dropped his bare feet into the water, Draco hissed and she nudged him with her foot, the water eddying around them. 

“Do not splash me,” he warned darkly. 

Astoria couldn’t help it; she laughed. “You can’t say that and then expect me not to do it.” 

He glared at her. “If you splash me, I will shove you off this dock.”

“How very ungentlemanly of you,” she gasped, pressing her hand to her chest. 

“I never claimed to be a gentleman.” 

“I think your mother would be scandalized by that statement.” 

“You don’t know my mother.” 

“No, but I know mine, and I imagine they’re a lot alike with their standards of how one should behave in society.” 

She kicked the water then, thoughts of her mother causing anger to swirl in her like a monsoon. Her mother’s feelings for her were complicated, Astoria knew, because of her father and his insistence they try to have one more child after Daphne. Though the Greengrasses were hoping for a boy, that child had been Astoria. Her father had accepted his losses and, by all accounts, groomed her to be his heir and run the Greengrass estate when he was gone, surpassing Daphne completely. Her mother was not forgiving. She had never wanted Astoria and turned her nose up at her younger daughter whenever she got the chance with disparaging comments that cut Astoria like the winds of a gale. She shivered as she thought about it. 

“Here.” Out of the corner of her eye, Astoria watched Draco shrug out of his coat. He refused to look at her as he did so, and as he offered his coat, Astoria saw why. With his sleeves rolled up, his Dark Mark was on full display, the skull’s mouth open and the snake winding across his inner forearm. It was a dull grey color, not at all like the vivid black that Astoria had been told it was before the war. It looked like a simple tattoo now. Albeit an ugly one. 

Gently, she took the coat from his outstretched hand, careful not to brush his fingers again. When she pulled it on, she was enveloped by the scent of oak and vanilla. It was still warm, and Astoria was reminded that she had once again inadvertently touched Draco. The thought sent yet another rush through her chest, just as quick and strong as before. 

“Thank you,” she said, trying her best not to look at his mark. “Did you know that Pansy wanted her bridesmaids and Blaise’s groomsmen to alternate in hair color? Blonde, brunette, blonde, brunette.” 

Draco snorted. “As usual, Pansy got what she wanted.” 

“That’s why Daphne said she was in the wedding. Because of color coordination.” 

He still hadn’t looked at her, so Astoria pulled her eyes from his face. It was another clear night out and the stars were shining just as brightly as the night before, burning ever brighter towards their ends. She could see Cygnus and Cepheus. Ursa Minor was directly above them, and Ursa Major to the left of Minor. 

“I can see you,” Astoria said. 

“What?” Draco was finally looking at her again, confusion once again swimming across his face. 

Astoria pointed to the sky and the constellation he was named for, resting just above Ursa Minor. While he studied the stars, Astoria took the time to study him. He almost looked approachable, with his platinum blonde hair tousled by the wind and his sleeves rolled up. Eyes drawn to his forearm, Astoria couldn’t stop herself from studying it as well. When he first took the Dark Mark, it must have been so intricate. Even though it was faded, she could still make out some of those details, the chips in the skull, the scales of the snake. Unable to help herself, Astoria leaned closer to Draco. He jerked slightly, his brows rising high on his forehead. 

“What are you doing?” he demanded. 

“I’m not going to push you in,” she teased. 

When her fingers found his forearm, he sucked in a breath. 

“Does it hurt?” she asked as her fingers traced the outline of the mark. 

“No,” he breathed. “Not anymore.” 

“So, it’s like a scar?” 

“It’s more than a scar.” 

She thought he might pull away from her then, but he didn’t. Just stared at her. They were sharing the same breath as she continued to trace the outline, moving past the skull and onto the snake. The skin wasn’t raised like she expected. Instead, it was soft and smooth. Then goosebumps were rising under her fingers, and a smile tugged at Astoria’s lips. 

“Are you cold?” she asked. 

“What?” he said, his breath fanning against her face. 

“You’ve got goosebumps.” 

He did pull away from her then, mouth pressing into a thin line. Fine, then. Astoria looked back at the calm ocean, kicking her feet softly. Silence suited her just fine, and she had a feeling it would erode Draco’s will long before hers. She was right. 

“Most people are afraid or angry when they see it,” he whispered. Most likely why he’d kept it covered this weekend. 

“It’s going to take a lot more than a drawing of a snake to scare me, Draco.” And she meant that. She had never liked fear tactics, and this was no exception. If Voldemort was determined to use that mark to instill fear in people, then Astoria was determined to look at it and feel nothing at all. 

“We should go,” Draco finally said. He tugged his feet out of the water and stood up, leaving his trousers rolled up to his knees. “The others will be looking for us, especially your sister.” 

“They probably think I’ve strangled you,” Astoria said mildly. 

When he offered her his hand to stand, Astoria took it, his palm warm and rough against her own. The callouses weren’t extensive, but they were noticeable; probably earned from flying a broom if she had to guess. Without her heels, Astoria could just see over Draco’s shoulder. Merlin, it was annoying how everyone was taller than her. 

“Here,” she said, starting to take his coat off.

“Keep it,” he said. His eyes ran over her, and Astoria swore she saw them darken. “You’ll need it more than me.” 

She tucked the smell of oak and vanilla tighter around her. “Alright.” 

#

The wedding had gone off without a hitch, much to Astoria’s dismay. Her sister looked beautiful despite the ugly sage dress that Pansy had forced her into. Daphne always had that elegant grace about her, even when she was dressed in unflattering clothing. Astoria, on the other hand, had wanted to wear black, but Daphne had been horrified at the thought. So, she’d settled on a fitted silver number that would allow her to brood at the back of the party unnoticed while she nursed yet another headache. If her parents weren’t in attendance, she would have rested her sweaty glass of champagne against her forehead in hopes of some relief. As it was, the alcohol was doing very little to numb her. 

The chair next to her scraped against the floor, and she saw Draco taking a seat next to her, looking as put together as always in his own wedding attire. 

“Greengrass,” he said. 

“Astoria,” she gently corrected him.

“Astoria,” he said. It was soft, like the sea caressing the beach at low tide. It sent a chill up her spine though she refused to admit it. Instead, she took another sip of champagne. 

“Has the new Mrs. Zabini finally let you free of your groomsmen responsibilities?” 

Draco shrugged. “I’m sure she’ll want us for something later. Your sister was over by the dance floor a moment ago.” 

Astoria snorted. “My sister is probably heading for the bar, so the next time you see her, she’ll be tripping over her own feet.”

And honestly, good for her. She’d put up with Pansy’s bullshit for two straight days. She deserved the best cabernet that the Zabinis had. 

The music overtook them, Astoria trying hard to ignore her headache and Draco sitting silently next to her. She realized that she had an ally now, someone to sit in dark corners with and pass the time during the pureblood social season. It might have been the only positive outcome from this weekend. 

“Would you like to dance?” 

Astoria’s head whipped toward Draco. His grey eyes were intent, and his bottom lip was sucked between his teeth. Surely, she’d heard wrong. No one ever wanted to dance with her during these events. That was always Daphne’s place, the center of attention waltzing around the ballroom floor. Her place had always been in the corner, with her outspokenness and her ‘radical’ opinions. 

“What?” she said. 

“I thought you might like the opportunity to walk off some of the alcohol you’ve consumed.” He was leaning back in his chair now and picking at his nails. “Unless you think you’re too drunk to keep up.”

“I can keep up.” Astoria sat her glass on the table roughly. “And I am not drunk.” 

She stood up, wobbling only slightly, and noticed the hint of a smirk on Draco’s face. Annoyance washed over her. Snatching his left hand, she marched toward the dance floor, trying to ignore the tempestuous heat in her stomach that had nothing to do with the alcohol she’d consumed. When they reached the dance floor, Astoria turned to face Draco and noticed the mischief rippling through his grey eyes for the first time. Her breath rushed from her lungs as he slid his hand around her shoulder and stepped entirely too close to her body. 

They were going to be talked about after tonight if he wasn’t careful. Her, the social outcast of their high society who sat in dark corners brooding, and him, the formerly perfect pureblood prince who had fallen from grace when his master had been defeated. The old cynics would be relentless, but Astoria couldn’t bring herself to care as the warmth from Draco’s hand swept into her back. Another shiver ran through her. 

It was easy to fall into the waltz, muscle memory taking over from the torturous lessons her mother had put her through. Her instructor had carried a cane and would often whack her arms when they slumped from exhaustion. Draco was a good partner, easily guiding her through the steps with gentle pressure from his hands. 

Dancing with him was surprisingly intimate. Theo had asked her to dance once or twice, and it had never felt like this. Perhaps, she’d had too much alcohol after all. As Astoria tried to ignore the heat that burned her skin, Draco guided her easily around the floor, never once bringing her close to the other couple. It should have been freeing — trusting herself completely to another person — but it only left more room for Astoria to focus on the insistent ache in her skull. It was a heady mix, the warmth from Draco causing her stomach to roil and the ache in her head. 

When the song ended, they separated and clapped for the band along with the other guests. Silently, Draco offered his hand with the arch of a brow. The thunder in Astoria’s head had turned to a full-on gale that was threatening to drown her. She rested her palm in his, delighting in the slight roughness of his hand. This was a dangerous tempest. 

“Why did you ask me to dance?” she said because if she stayed silent for a moment longer, she was going to combust from the storm inside herself. 

Draco furrowed his brow. “Because I wanted to.”

“And you always get what you want?” 

His arm tightened around her. “Mostly, yes.” 

It was arrogant and exactly what she thought he would say, but it still pulled a smile from her, as she tried to fight off the nausea that was quickly rising to the surface with her headache. 

When that song ended, Draco and Astoria were near the edge of the dance floor, and he didn’t release his hold on her to clap like he had moments before. Astoria barely noticed, her head feeling like it was about to burst from her skull. 

“Did you mean what you said?” he asked.

“What?” she said, gripping his shoulder a little tighter. 

“About talking to someone about the war?”

She was going to be sick all over his shoes, and the alcohol she’d consumed was going to burn more coming up than it had going down. 

“I need to find my sister,” she mumbled, her other hand finding his shoulder as well to steady herself. 

“What?” he said, his other hand resting gently on her waist. When had he moved them from her shoulders? “I don’t . . . Are you alright, Astoria? You’re very pale.” 

She knew she should have added another layer of foundation this morning. “I need to find my sister,” she said. Gently, she slid her hands down his arms and untangled his fingers from her dress. “I’m . . . so sorry.”

Then, she turned and hurried away from him. She checked the bar first, but only found a slightly buzzed Theo, who raised his glass in salute to her. When she searched the tables, she was unable to find Daphne there either, only the bride and her other bridesmaid gossiping about Diane Carter. Where was she? Hastily, Astoria clicked through the hallway and into the larger dining room of the venue. Daphne wasn’t there either. She forced herself to stop and lean against the wall for a few moments. Deep breaths; otherwise, she’d throw up. 

Exiting the big dining room, she rushed toward the sitting room. There she located her sister talking with Mr. Parkinson. As soon as Daphne saw her, she sat her wine glass on the nearest available surface, panic obvious in her eyes. Astoria found herself being hauled out of the venue by the elbow and into the courtyard of the villa. The fresh air slapped her face, and she took several deep breaths. 

“How long have you been ill, Tori?” Daphne asked, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“All weekend,” Astoria muttered. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” she demanded. “Or go see a Healer? Like a sane person?” 

Astoria squeezed her eyes shut. She would not be sick. She would not be sick. “Because I wasn’t about to leave you in that den of-”

“Forget them, Tori,” Daphne said. “And I can take care of myself. I’ve told you that all weekend, and you’ve suffered all weekend.” When Astoria opened her eyes, she was hit with the tide of her sister’s anger. “And I’m too drunk to Apparate us anywhere, and you can’t Apparate.”

“The hospital is a few blocks down,” Astoria wheezed. “I checked before I Portkeyed in.” 

Daphne huffed in annoyance, and Astoria knew she would have done the same had their positions been reversed. Her sister still wrapped an arm around her waist and guided her out of the venue and towards the hospital though. Daphne always was the better of the both of them. 

#

“Your condition is exceptionally rare, Ms. Greengrass. You’re quite lucky that your sister brought you in when she did. Another few hours and . . .” Healer Bianchi clicked his tongue. “Luckily, we were able to get all of your paperwork from St. Mungo’s transferred to us in time. Merlin knows what we would have done without Healer Holmes’ notes. The case could have been quite dire.” He flipped through his papers. “How long have you had this condition, Ms. Greengrass?” 

Astoria was sitting in a bleak hospital room, her arms crossed and fighting very hard not to throw her glass of water at this Healer’s head. “Since I was five.” 

“Fascinating.” 

Astoria was glad someone found her blood curse fascinating. She certainly did not, nor did she enjoy the constant trips to St. Mungo’s she had to make since she was a child. It had been a week since that dreadful wedding, and Astoria was still stuck in Italy. It was such a shame. The weather was beautiful and Venice was a lovely city and Astoria was stuck in this drab place with a macabre healer. 

“Glad I can keep you entertained,” she snapped. 

Healer Bianchi cleared his throat. “Your blood letting went well. We were able to get out all the contaminated blood, and replace it with new blood, though there was quite a lot of contaminated blood. You really should have come in sooner. You wouldn’t have had to stay in here for a week if you had.” Astoria rolled her eyes. “You’ll be in a bit of pain for a couple weeks, but you take cannabis sativa for that, don’t you?” 

“Yes.” 

“And how is that administered?” 

“I smoke it.” Astoria was pleased when a look of disapproval crossed the Healer’s face. 

“Well, I can make up a potion for you, if you like. Won’t take any time at all.” 

“That won’t be necessary.” 

Healer Bianchi sighed. “Well, you’re free to go then. Just keep up on your treatments and do come in to see a healer if you get any kind of chronic headaches, nausea, or shortness of breath.” 

Finally, the Healer disappeared, and Astoria turned to face Daphne. Her sister’s eyes were narrowed, and her arms were crossed over her chest. Her hair, which was usually styled, sat limply around her shoulders. There were dark circles under her eyes, too.

“I could kill you,” Daphne said. 

“But your life would be so dull without me,” Astoria said. 

“You could have died.” 

Astoria looked away from her. “I’m in danger of dying every day, Daph.”

“And you exasperate it.” 

“I am not living my life beholden to this disease,” she snapped, slamming her fists down onto the bed. Even doing just that zapped her of energy. Astoria took a deep breath. 

“I have a Portkey ready to take us home at three,” Daphne said softly. “Unless you’d rather stay here for a few days.” 

“No,” she said. “Let’s go home.” 

[thecoldheart]

Hello hello fellows! I hope you are all well! I'm posting about an Oc I created for the Storm Hawks universe. Meet Alex, a Lieutenant of the Cyclonian Empire!

Here below is information about it:

Name: Alexandra "Alex" Watts Nightmarier

Age: 30 years

Birthday: April 23

Squadron: Cyclonian Army - First Lieutenant

Homeland: Terra Rex

Gender: cis woman

Sexuality: Lesbian and demisexual

Eye Color: Lilac

Hair color: lilac and green at the ends

Height: 1.75 cm / 5'9"

Weight: 79 kg

Personality: Extroverted, super sarcastic, has a very doubtful humor, extravagant.

Likes: Coffee, annoying Dark Ace until he loses his mind, neon colors, electronic music

Enemies: Storm Hawks, Raptors, Murk Raiders, Rex Guardians.

Backstory: Born to a lower-class family that lived in the countryside of Rex, Alex always helped her family with what she could, even though she didn't agree with them about the fact that the Rex Guardians were so reliable and protective, as she knew that at some point something was going to happen. Even going through financial difficulties, she always helped

Unfortunately, with a flu outbreak. Many middle and lower class citizens were infected and had no access to healing, causing high unemployment and mortality rates on Earth. This also affected Alex's family, who unfortunately died because they didn't get the cure in time (since the cure was expensive and it went to the upper class more easily since they had enough money to buy it for them).

Alex was desperate, her family was gone and she couldn't pay all the bills and debts she had, she even asked for help with a member of the Rex Guardians (Not Harrier) but he was super rude with her and refused to help. She fled Terra Rex and went through several until finally settling in Cyclonia where she ended up becoming a talon until she got the position of first lieutenant, having more contact with the commanders and Master Cyclonis.

Mentioned in episodes: Terra Neon, Escape, Forbidden City.

First Appearance: The Lesson

Curiosities:

- She has 12 piercings on his face + 11 on his right ear + 4 on his left ear

- She has diabetes and ADHD - diagnosed since she was 3

- Likes to tease Dark Ace and Ravess

- She is best friends with Snipe and Hamish.

- She has a tattoo that covers her entire back, which is an alien in the center with various symbols related to the occult and space.

- Has arachnophobia and nyctophobia

I hope you like her as much as I do! I intend to draw more about storm Hawks!

note: Ravess has a crush on her in my Storm Hawks universe

- do not repost without credit.

- Also follow me here and in Instagram too! My Instagram is moonlight_art.160

[vintersang]

❛ woah , so you can control and make ice ? that's super cool ! that has to be a pretty amazing thing to have , woah hold on a second . are you a magical girl by any chance ?  ❜

unprompted ask / always accepting! / @hogarsis

"Yes, I can control and make ice... Well, ice and snow. Have you heard about my ice palace?" She holds back on mentioning Olaf and Marshmallow, simply because she didn't want to overwhelm her. She also didn't want to encourage the girl to ask if she could make her a friend. It wouldn't be the first time she was asked to make a friend from snow for someone. A lot of Arendelle's younger children were bound to ask her for such things, but she quickly distracted them by making them gifts made entirely out of ice.

Elsa smiles at the little pun she hears from the awestruck girl's lips, natural and not forced at all. She is instantly reminded of both Olaf and Anna at the same time when she gazes down at this stranger. She doubts the younger girl intended to make a joke, but she still found herself smiling. She is quite positive that both Olaf and Anna would love to meet this new guest, simply because she has that same energetic personality. Anna, she imagined, would no doubt love to have a younger sister.

Their parents were lucky enough to be blessed with two children, but Elsa always got the impression that Anna always wanted to have a younger sibling... She got along with so many of the children in Arendelle. She was always the perfect sibling in Elsa's eyes, so she has never wanted any other siblings. The blue-haired girl standing before her looked too young to be traveling all by herself. She should be guarded, safe in the arms of a family member...

Yet she is, all alone.

She wields a very fine-looking sword, something Elsa is very quick to take note of, but she is still hardly prepared for Arendelle's colder climate. How is she not shivering from the cold yet? She must have very tough skin to be able to last this long by herself, a very strong soul. That will simply not do, Elsa quietly decides to herself. She knows very well that it's a good thing to be armed in such a dangerous world, even if Arendelle is one of the more safer places to be. But it isn't always the most warmest of places, not during the colder seasons anyway.

Her clothes are strange, something that would never be seen in Arendelle, but Elsa can still appreciate good fashion when she sees it. The material is very fine, including the color palette, yes... But it is hardly the right clothes for someone to be wearing on such a cold day, especially that insanely short skirt. Feeling her big sister instincts kicking in, Elsa automatically hands the traveler her dark blue cloak once she slowly unclasps it from her body. It was only for show since such cold weather never bothers her, something to wear to not feel so out of place in a crowd of cold citizens. She instantly decided the velvet cloak would be better in the care of someone who needed it.

"A magical girl?" The question throws her off guard...

"I've never been called a magical girl before, but... I suppose I am? I'm a female and magical, after all. Is that what you mean by magical girl?" Elsa asked, feeling like she is missing something very important... Her smile, however, does begin to fade away as confusion starts to settle upon her face. She tilts her head to the side, pondering on the question.

She has been called many things in the past, but a magical girl is a first for her.

"I know you are very impressed with my power, but I'm more impressed with how you can wield such a fine weapon at such a young age. Are your parents skilled in swordsmanship as well?" Elsa inquired gently, skillfully directing the topic back to Sayaka. It's a geuine compliment and question, but she also wants to find out more information on this lone girl. Elsa, however, knows how delicate serious conversations can be at such a young age. Girls, growing girls, needed to be handled with a delicate hand.

"I do apologize for asking this, but... Is that truly your natural hair color? It looks beautiful. I've never seen someone with blue hair." Elsa added, unable to help herself from asking such a question.

[fuwushiguro]

Toji Fushiguro is an apex predator, a 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐄

Toji Fushiguro x f!reader | Megumi Fushiguro x f!reader

summary: You meet a handsome older man while partying in Paris with your best friend. Going home with a man you've just met isn't usually your style, but looking at him is more than enough to dispel any doubts. But maybe you should have listened to your intuition.

genre: smut, angst, very dark content.

series warnings: implied age gap, noncon, assault, victim blaming, violence (very graphic), murder.

This is going to be very heavy so please take care of yourselves and be wary of the tags. If it's too much or too dark for you please do not read - you are responsible for your own safety. I've also added some links beneath the read more for anyone who would like to seek out help or support regarding the themes covered in this series. If anyone has any other good resources please feel free to send them to me and I will add them too. Be safe everyone 💕

chapter one: I Wanna Give In To My Temptation

18+, dubcon, age gap, alcohol consumption, nightclub setting, nightclub pick up, dry humping, fingering, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, creampie, manipulation, gaslighting, smoking.

chapter two: He’s Got Me, I Can’t Break It

18+, dubcon, age gap, alcohol consumption, fingering, pussy job, unprotected sex, manipulation, gaslighting, orgasm denial, blowjob, implied cunnilingus, smoking.

chapter three: I've Loved You Since This Morning

18+, dubcon, age gap, alcohol consumption, self-loathing, self destructive tendencies, threesome implication, possessiveness, mutual pining, bickering, guilt tripping, slight violence, misogyny, slut shaming, teasing, groping, light petting.

chapter four: So Now You're On Your Own, Won't You Come Back Home?

18+, dubcon, age gap, slight fingering, pining, arguing, friendship struggles//loss of friendship, nausea, vomiting, missed period mention, tablet consumption (ibuprofen), self-loathing, depressive episode (reader stays in bed for a few days crying and won't talk to anyone), very angsty chapter tbh.

chapter five: I Got Lost In Foreign Lands

18+, dubcon, age gap, oral (m and f receiving), hair pulling, fingering, over stimulation, daddy kink, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, creampie, free use??, aftercare, voyeurism?? (ish idk), gaslighting, manipulation, toxic relationship, alcohol consumption, drug consumption (cocaine), objectification, cock worship.

chapter six: We Learned Our Lesson From The Start

18+, noncon/rape, age gap, fingering, victim blaming, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, virginity loss mention, oral (f receiving), suicide ideation.

chapter seven: I Can Be The Eye Of The Storm

18+, rape/noncon, major character death, false imprisonment, violence, attempted murder, blood mention, misogyny.

tag list form ➪ here

I also wanted to add some support below if you or anyone is going through a hard time. I would feel very irresponsible writing a series with such a heavy subject matter and not provide support or links for you. And please bear in mind I wrote this as a fictional story, not based in truth. It's not supposed to be realistic or relatable it is pure fiction. The reader in this au deals with her trauma and what happens to her in ways I intended to be more of a heightened horror movie reality rather than to be actually realistic. I'm not going to tell anyone how to cope with their struggles but please please please understand that I wrote this as fiction and nothing else.

Suicide Hotlines For Every Country

Emergency Numbers Worldwide

NHS: Help after rape and sexual assault

Rape Crisis Network Europe

Rape Crisis England and Wales

As mentioned, if you know of any other support or links that may be useful feel free to tell me and send the links and I will be sure to add them in.

[sunstaar]

Third Time's the Charm

Shikamaru x gn!reader

Hiiii :)

So I just wanted to tell you I've been reading your blog for the past 7 hours haha it's almost 4 am here in Mexico were I'm from and your writing is SOOOOO good I'm obsessed, I love how you write Kakashi 🥰🥰🥰

And well so I just wanted to ask you, if it's not too much trouble, if you could write something with Shikamaru since I am sucker for him, something like the reader and him get on each other's nerves all the time, like they are so similar and there's this rivalry, Kakashi is fully aware that they have feelings for each other lol, reader and Shika go on a mission and you get injured and he takes care of your wound and he's so gentle about it that it makes reader question everything now. I know it's kind of specific, and honestly you don't have to do it, just something with Shika would be amazing, anything, that was just a thought

And seriously thank you for the amazing content 💓💓

Thank you so much for your request! I'm glad you enjoyed my writing, I really appreciate it! This took a bit longer than expected to write, but I do hope you enjoy it nonetheless. Also, I should note that along the way of me writing this, it became more and more dramatic... and the wound kind of escalated at one point? I did attempt to steer this into a more gentle way and I do hope it worked, at least somewhat...

Word Count: 5,3k

Warning: mentions of death, violence

tags: @smelllikeme , Ao3

Summary: They say third time's the charm, and Shikamaru hopes it is enough to save you.

Shikamaru could still vividly remember the day his sensei Asuma had died in his arms. As though the memory was burned into his brain, it came to haunt him in his sleep time and time again, nourishing his doubts and regrets, harvesting his heartbreak. Each time the dream came to haunt him, it appeared more vivid than the last time, so much so that Shikamaru could feel the blood of his sensei on his hand again and the way the older man’s body shivered in his last moments. The sombré tone of Asuma was etched into the memory, accompanied by the gruff undertone the dark-haired man always spoke with. His last words most importantly, Shikamaru felt as though they were in his heart, something he would never forget, and take with him to his grave.

The future head of the Nara clan could also remember how his father had died during the Fourth Shinobi War. The way Ino beside him cried out at the loss of her own father shook his mind to the core and had his heart sinking to the bottom of his stomach, bile beginning to crawl up his throat. His mind was in shambles, but he was required to get right back to work and push away all of his sorrow and his grief so they could win the war. Only at the grave of his father, his sobbing mother standing beside him did Shikamaru get a moment to allow his grief to swallow him, almost drowning in it to the point he couldn’t breathe.

The sensation of death surrounding his entire being was something Shikamaru never wanted to feel again. It was a feeling he despised with all his being.

Following the death of two of the most important people in his life, two men to whom he had looked up since childhood, and whom he had set as an example for himself, Shikamaru vowed that under no circumstance, he would ever let someone important to him die again. At all cost, even when it meant he would endanger his own health, he would make sure that those dear to him would make it to see the light of another day, live to wake up in Konoha, and get back onto their feet.

To his dismay, death, however, was a treacherous thing, one that did not listen to the prayers and vows of the people. It did not matter to death what Shikamaru promised, neither did it matter what the dark-haired man intended to do. As a mere man, Shikamaru did not stand above danger and near-death situations, a lesson he soon learned during a mission alongside you.

When he strode into the Hokage’s office one morning, the smell of cigarettes lingering around his body, and his hands buried deep into the pockets of his pants, Shikamaru had not expected the man to hand him a mission instead of paperwork.

The Hokage had always been a walking enigma, mystery shrouded around him. So, Shikamaru shouldn’t have expected anything else but a surprise awaiting him.

His first clue to something being different had been the sight of you in the Hokage’s office, sitting on one of the two chairs placed in front of the desk. Despite only being able to see your back as he entered, that little piece of information was enough to identify you. Maybe it was the way you slouched in your chair that gave Shikamaru the necessary clue, or the exact shade of your (h/c) that he could never forget even if he wanted to. Either way, his expression morphed into one of recognition as soon as he saw you sitting there.

Without saying anything, Shikamaru made his way over to the chair beside yours and sat down, ignoring how you scrunched up your nose in response. There was a curious gleam in the Hokage’s eyes, but neither Shikamaru nor you could tell what exactly it indicated. His gaze flickered between the two of you, his charcoal eyes settling last on the piece of paper laying on his desk to skim over it quickly before talking to the two of you.

With a smirk playing on his lips, not visible to either of you, Kakashi leaned back in his seat. “Do either of you know why I asked you to come?”

You were the first to narrow your eyes. “To go on a mission, I presume?” Once you glanced over at the raven-haired man sitting beside you, the smell of cigarettes still lingering on his vest. Then, you forced yourself to focus on the Hokage again, trying to keep yourself from frowning visibly. “Together, most likely.”

Merely from how you strained the first word, the Hokage could tell your lack of enthusiasm when it came to the mission. That was no surprise to him, he already had expected such a reaction from both you and Shikamaru, so he paid it no mind. He was following his very own mission, after all, and not even the two of you disagreeing would keep him from continuing on with it.

“I chose the two of you to complete this mission because it is of importance,” Kakashi began, sitting a little straighter in his seat now. He really could have chosen anyone besides you and Shikamaru, but neither of you needed to know that fact and potentially mess with his meddling. “And I trust you to complete it. Together.”

Both of you had to swallow down the groans of annoyance you were about to let out. It had to be a joke, didn’t it? An unnecessary joke from the Hokage himself, in that case.

“Don’t you two look at me like that,” Kakashi felt like he was reprimanding two children, not two of the most capable and intelligent Shinobi. He shot both of them a warning look before he slid the information slip across the table for them to take, deciding that briefing them now would cause him more of a headache. “The mission begins tomorrow. I expect the two of you to get a good night’s sleep and head off early in the morning.”

Kakashi did not even need to dismiss the two of you, as you both willingly left the Hokage’s office without a word to him or each other. The first to go had been Shikamaru, who stood up as soon as he had skimmed over the paper, pushing his chair back with a loud screech, before he pushed the door to Kakashi’s office open and left. You quickly followed suit, with a few seconds of difference so you wouldn’t run into the dark-haired male when outside of the office. The silence remaining was loud, to say the least, and left the room colder than it was before.

(That did not have the Hokage doubt his meddling, not even in the slightest as Shizune could see as soon as she entered the room with a cup of tea in her hand.)

The raven-haired woman let out a sigh, placing her hands on her hips as soon as she sat down the tea on his desk. “What did you do now?” From the gleam in his charcoal eyes alone she could see he was up to something.

Kakashi leaned back against his chair, stretching out his legs and arms, listening to his joints cracking in the process. His playful gaze settled on Shizune, a twinkle in his eyes. “Oh, you know, nothing.”

Shizune knew that he was lying, and couldn’t help but worry about what the man was brewing up.

You could still remember when you first met Shikamaru back in the academy when the two of you had still been young children starting their way of being a Shinobi. To you, it was like the memory was burned into your brain, something you knew you’d never forget due to the significance of that day to you.

Your first crush you would never forget, anyway.

Already within the first few months of starting the academy, you had begun to develop a crush on the raven-haired boy from your class. You weren’t sure what it had been that had pulled you to the Nara, whether it had been his unmatchable intelligence, or his lazy attempts at humor, which often came out dry, you didn’t know. At his witty jokes, you often were the first and only student to laugh, the only one to understand it immediately and also find it funny. Your attention was always drawn to him, your eyes always finding a way to settle on his slouched figure. Your chin would rest on your hand as you daydream of some kind of future together, wistful sighs pushing past your lips.

Something just drew you to him. You couldn’t exactly explain when your crush on him blossomed to become something fully fletched, you could only build your tower of hopes and dreams, and continue to stare at him during class with your lovesick gaze.

Little you had thought of Shikamaru as cute and adorable. Just as many of your other classmates did, like Sakura and Ino, you attempted different combinations of your name with his, meshing them together, writing your first name in combination with his last name, or even hyphenating both of your names. Little hearts quickly joined your messy ideas, little love notes adding to your expression of feelings, or in that case, lack of open and honest expression of feelings.

(To say the least, you had been head over heels for the genius boy since early childhood).

At one point, everything had begun to change, however. You would pinpoint the time of change to around the Chuunin exams, specifically the first round of the one-versus-one fights. It was the round in which you lost in a one versus one against Shikamaru, shame coursing through you as embarrassment had your cheeks feeling warm, your head cast downward as you accepted your defeat.

It wasn’t even that you were a bad Shinobi or one below average, because that wasn’t the case, not at all. Rather, you couldn’t match Shikamaru’s wit and intelligence, the two qualities you had so dearly admired, which had become your downfall on your way to becoming a Chuunin. They became the qualities you too, wished to possess, qualities you were becoming jealous of, and you thought of as necessary to be a Chuunin.

With the help of your understanding and supporting sensei, you were determined to become better than the boy who, unbeknownst to him, crushed your heart during the exams. It had taken some time without a doubt, but every second you spend gaining knowledge was worth it when you finally caught up with the raven-haired later and became a Chuunin without even losing one round.

The climb was hard, there was no doubt there, but the result was a better version of you, one determined not to allow their heart to be broken again, one that wished to be better than the boy who did so.

All of your hard feelings toward Shikamaru, mixed with the jealousy you felt toward his abilities brought you to this point: a mission with him. This happening would’ve been little you’s dream, and yet, for obvious reasons, you couldn’t help but feel annoyed at the prospect of having to go on a mission with Shikamaru.

What if you embarrassed yourself again, or something worse happened? You couldn’t cope with that, you would most likely sink into the ground from all the embarrassment. So, you were yet again determined, determined to be better than him.

During the mission, you couldn’t slack up, you knew that which was why you chose not to engage in any witty banter stemming from Shikamaru. On your way to the mission’s location, you ignored the few words leaving the raven-haired’s mouth, but listened nonetheless, little you rather excited to learn more about the Nara.

Halfway to your destination, the silence between the two of you had become unbearable. You were basically itching to say something, anything really, to break the silence and to have it stop. But you kept tight-lipped.

The green trees around the two of you became shades darker the further you were walking into the thick forest surrounding Konoha, leaving your home further behind you with every step you took. Walking under the large shades of the trees felt somewhat peaceful to both you and Shikamaru, the harsh sunlight of the summer sun no longer blinding either of you or burning your skin. The longer the two of you walked, however, the path seemed to grow smaller and smaller, the trees growing closer to what was supposed to be the path. It was like the forest was pushing you together, or so you thought as your shoulders accidentally bumped.

“Sorry!” You squeaked out immediately, your cheeks feeling warmer upon contact. Why did you have to be that clumsy, again? “Didn’t mean to.”

And here you were embarrassing yourself of all things, making the mission more uncomfortable than it already was.

Shikamaru cleared his throat, his eyes flittering to look over at you, before looking away again. “It’s fine.” He said, his hands twitching in his pockets, as though he was itching to do something. You noticed, though didn’t say anything.

You were walking shoulder by shoulder by now, the close proximity of the trees forcing you to do so, not knowing that neither of you would get to say something else to the other before everything went to shit.

Neither of you had seen the attack coming, as both of you were lost in your own bubble of thought concerning one another. It wasn’t professional to do of either of you, since both of your attention should have been dedicated to protecting yourself and your partner on your way to the destination instead, and yet, here both of you were, about to be ambushed because of your own lack of attention.

The first indication that you aren’t alone in the forest came from one of the trees, a small rustling of the leaves that sounded too big to be of a bird. Shikamaru stopped you in your step, his hand grasping your upper arms to keep you from moving forward. Both of you were now alert when it came to your surroundings, the hairs on your arms standing up from the chill running down your spine.

It didn’t take long for the intruders to reveal themselves, sly smirks tugging at their lips, the upper part of their faces covered with masks, holes cut within them to leave their eyes uncovered. While the men and women looked ridiculous, it was no time to laugh as they pulled out their knives and got ready to perform Jutsu.

“If you want to enter, you’ll have to go through us first.” spoke the leader of the group, his tone deep and intended to sound threatening.

The woman beside him twirled a knife in her hand, adding, “We don’t let people pass without a price being paid first, that goes without saying.”

You weren’t nervous at all about the impending confrontation, not at all, really. You not only trusted yourself and your capabilities but also the ones of Shikamaru. Regardless of that, your hand moved to where your own knife lay against your hip. “And what would be said price?”

For a mere moment, shock crossed the features of the woman, but she was quick to revert her facial expression back to one of nonchalance. “You’re Konoha Shinobi, eh?” It was a question that required no answer from either of you. “You must have a lot of money to give to us, then.”

That statement couldn’t be more wrong if it tried to be. Following the Fourth Shinobi War, the financial situation was dire for everyone, even including yourself and the future Nara clan head.

From the peripheral of your vision, you could see Shikamaru hatch out a plan. Due to the location of the ambush, it was obvious who of the two of you was at an advantage. There were more shadows than necessary surrounding all of you, meaning Shikamaru could perfectly use his clan’s Hiden Jutsu. He only needed to not be caught.

To give him more time to act, you chose to act a bit less rational than you would’ve preferred to. Instead of having your hand simply remain near the knife on your hip, you chose to draw it and point it at the woman opposite you, the blade of it gleaming in the few bits of sunlight managing to protrude through the many treetops.

The woman took a step back but did not deter from her mission.

“Don’t trick us, Shinobi!” growled one of the other men of the ambush, his knife now drawn toward you. You refused to flinch and stood your ground. “Drop the knife! Now! Or you’ll get it!”

Admittedly, you were beginning to feel a little nervous with one more knife pointed at you, but you fully trusted Shikamaru to perfectly execute the plan. While it would be rather difficult for him to catch all four of the intruders all at once, you were sure that he would be able to do so, if you were only able to buy him more time.

You refused to drop your knife and instead spoke in a calm voice, “We don’t have that kind of money.” It was true, neither of you had barely any money with you.

“I’m sure we’ll find a solution then,” spoke the leader, his voice deep enough to send a shiver down your spine. “You,” He pointed over at you, “will stay here, with us, while you,” Now he pointed at Shikamaru, “will get us the money we ask for, alright?”

You shot a glance at Shikamaru, the worry gleaming in your eyes saying more than a thousand words. It would be best to strike now, the raven-haired decided before any of the four intruders dared to try anything dangerous. 

As fast as he could, Shikamaru allowed his shadow to spread out all across the ground of the forest and to connect with the shadows of your opponents, to trap them in a certain position. As soon as he heard the first gasp coming from the man with the knife, Shikamaru knew that he had been successful. The man was quick to drop his knife onto the ground, barely missing his foot. The woman, the leader, and another man, who so far has made no comment, were quick to follow suit, stuck in the position as Shikamaru wanted them to.

Shikamaru shot the four of them a smirk, unaware of what would be coming next.

From high above in the trees, came a silver glint toward the two of you, specifically toward Shikamaru. Your eyes immediately picked up on the glint coming toward you, meant to knock out Shikamaru and free the four intruders. If you were the knock the Nara out of the way, you knew that his Shadow Jutsu would break the moment you made contact with him, allowing the four to not only attack you but also rob you and then flee. Would you take the hit, however, none of that would happen and if you were fortunate enough, you could still knock those four out later.

Maybe it was the little you had buried deep inside you long ago thinking and acting, or maybe you never lost your feelings for Shikamaru, but you moved in front of him without much more thought. His eyes widened as he saw the glint coming toward you now and hit you in the chest, a gasp pushing past your lips as you hunched over, attempting to breathe.

Shikamaru’s shadow immediately climbed up the tree and also managed to interweave with the shadow of the last man standing, also trapping him in his Jutsu.

You, meanwhile, had more and more trouble breathing, the cackles of the five intruders sounding distant, almost blurry to you. Anger and frustration were both coursing through your body as you formed the finger sings necessary for the Wind Jutsu you were about to perform. Breathing was becoming increasingly difficult, so as you breathed in to gather enough air for your Jutsu, it felt as though your lungs were on fire. You ignored the pain you were feeling and finished your Jutsu, knocking over all four of them with a wall of wind, sending them flying against trees and knocking them out in the process.

You yourself could barely hold your own weight up, so as soon as you made sure that Shikamaru was save without needing your aid, your knees buckled underneath your voice and you fell to the forest ground, desperately gasping for air to fill your lungs.

Shikamaru yelled out your name, but you could barely hear him in all the panic you were feeling. Blood was rushing to your ears, making Shikamaru’s voice almost inaudible as you with your back against the ground, your eyes staring up at the trees as your vision blurred with tears.

“Breathe,” Shikamaru told you, placing his hand on your shoulder to rub it in circles to get you to calm down. “You need to breathe, (Name). Calm down.” His gaze traveled over to your wound, and while the wound itself was not life-threatening, the knife appeared to have been poisoned. No wonder you were reacting like that.

Ever since his sensei and father died, Shikamaru never was the greatest at calming people down in a difficult situation, especially when they were hyperventilating as you were. “Somewhere in the bag is an antidote, (Name), but until I prepared it, you need to breathe, okay?” He could see the tears rolling down your cheeks and the panic so clear in your eyes, and yet, he couldn’t help you in any way.

As quickly as he could, Shikamaru began rummaging through the bag in search of an antidote, specifically the two vials of antidotes given to him by Konoha’s very own poison specialist before the mission began. As soon as he found it, he was confronted with another problem: Which was the right vial to give to you?

From merely seeing the knife, he couldn’t tell what kind of poison was coating it. On the other hand, he couldn’t pull it out either in fear of you bleeding to death as soon as he did so. His heartbeat began increasing, anxiety pumping through his blood as he considered his options.

You felt like your whole body was on fire by now. Pained screeches pushed past your lips, tears falling from your eyes as your body spasmed on the floor, you crying out in pain. Your gaze was set on an unsure Shikamaru, the raven-haired man in a situation he had never been confronted with before, and in spite of his undeniable wit, he found finding a solution rather difficult.

“Help… me…” You could barely speak, your throat scratchy and voice coming out in a mere pained whisper. Your breaths came out erratic and without a pattern, as though you were clawing for air to enter your lungs.

You couldn’t die like this! Not only was this a mortifying way to go, in front of the now man you’ve crushed on as a child, but also rather pathetic. You wanted to die a happy death, after managing to confess your feelings to someone you would consider to be the love of your life. You didn’t want to pass on with so many regrets, things you wished you had done sooner.

Maybe back then you just should have taken the leap of faith and confessed to Shikamaru, told him that you liked him.

By now, you also couldn’t tell anymore what was going on. Your vision was completely blurred from all of the tears streaming down your face. You could only hear Shikamaru scrambling around you, moving constantly and muttering inaudible words under his breath. You only regained somewhat of a sense of orientation as soon as a needle penetrated your skin, making you hiss loudly.

“It’s going to be alright.” Shikamaru told you, another attempt to calm you down.

You nodded, unable to speak a word of confirmation. Wholeheartedly, you believed in the genius as your body began to calm down a little. It felt like you could breathe again, air entering your lungs. That was, at least, until everything went to shit again.

Out of nowhere, you began crying again, your body feeling as though it had been set on fire another time. You convulsed, screeched, and let out noises of pain, returning to a state worse than the one before.

“Shit,” Shikamaru cursed, taking in a panicked breath. “Why isn’t this working?” He wiped the layer of sweat forming on his forehead with the back of his hand, attempting to clear his mind to think.

He could distantly remember what the poison specialist had once taught him during the war, the words somewhat saved in his brain, words he never recalled before. “These antidotes work best if the poisonous object is removed from the body. Some poisons flare up when in contact with the antidote, so remove the object if the first dose doesn’t work. Just be careful while doing so.” And while it was dangerous to do so, it appeared to be the only way to save you.

“Pull… out… knife,” You told him as though you had been able to read his thoughts, gasping for air after each word. “Trust… you.” You were well aware of the fact that there was a chance that his Jutsu would not work, that you would bleed out here, poisoned on the floor of the forest, but something told you to trust him.

The last time his mind had been this close to falling apart into shambles had been when hearing his father speak to him, death coming closer to the man. His heartbeat had increased drastically and blood rushed in his ears, he could barely focus on anything but his father. The same could be said for when Asuma died, Shikamaru’s heart feeling as though at any moment it may break apart.

At that moment, Shikamaru knew that as soon as he managed to bring you out of the life-threatening situation, he would confess his feelings to you one day. He couldn’t lose a loved one again, it would hurt too much. He refused to give up on you.

They say third time's the charm, so he should be able to save you. If the saying held any truth to it, you shouldn’t be the one to die in his arms or continue to suffocate as by now your hands were beginning to desperately claw at your throat.

Your only hope would be now the bits of medical ninjutsu Ino had taught him in case of an emergency. He was regretting not having listened to his blonde teammate more intentively than he should have.

Shikamaru carefully wrapped his hand around the handle of the knife so he could pull out it. You hissed as he did so, a noise that made his wince. “I’m going to pull it out now, alright?” He attempted to create eye contact between the two of you, but your eyes were filled with too many tears to even get a hint of your surroundings. “One… Two.. Three.” In one pull, Shikamaru pulled the knife out and threw it beside you.

There was only one antidote left that he could give to you, but first, he had to close the wound with medical ninjutsu. His hands were shaking more than he wanted them to, your crimson blood splattered across them. Shikamaru set his growing panic aside and hovered his hand above the wound, using each and every technique Ino ever taught him. His hands were beginning to glow a mint tone after he pushed his chakra into them, his body feeling weaker during the process. His technique may have been the ideal one to use, but Shikamaru knew that what mattered most was that it worked. As soon as he saw your wound close up, however, he knew that every side effect would be worth it.

A sigh of relief escaped both of you as soon as the wound was closed, no more crimson blood escaping it.

“Next time, you really should wear your vest.” Shikamaru joked, barely able to catch his breath. His skilled fingers were already working on putting the other antidote together to use it.

You let out a pained laugh, coughing afterward. While every limb in your body was still burning, the combination of the knife being removed and Shikamaru’s medical ninjutsu did wonders and had you feeling like you could breathe again.

Seeing this side of Shikamaru was… new and quite frankly, also exciting. If it weren’t for the fact that you had almost stood at heaven’s door just now, you would most likely be swooning.

“Now breathe, I’m going to inject the antidote,” Shikamaru said, carefully positioning the needle above your skin. His other hand rested near the wound to keep you still. “It’s all going to be over soon.”

You squeezed your eyes shut and nodded, doing your best to not only keep still but also to ignore the uncomfortable sensation stemming from the injection. Both proved themselves to be difficult to do, your breathing still labored as the antidote made contact with your bloodstream.

The relief you felt was instant. Finally, you could breathe normally again, your body no longer feeling as thought it had been set aflame. Your chest rose up and down as you breathed in even breaths, given the opportunity to calm down from your high emotions. Curios, with your fingertip you dared to explore the wounded skin of your throat, but as soon as you touched it, you let out a pained hiss.

Shikamaru’s hand immediately came to envelop your own, keeping it away from the wound. “Let me see,” He said in an unusually calm and kind tone. “I’ll put some ointment on it, so it will heal.”

With remaining tears in your eyes, you agreed wordlessly.

Shikamaru worked the ointment onto your skin in silence, not a single word coming from him, and neither from you. With each breath you took in, his gaze would flicker upward to meet your eyes, checking if you were still alright. Only after a nod of confirmation, he would continue, his fingers shaking noticeably as he rubbed the ointment onto the wound.

“Thank you, Shikamaru.” You were able to croak out, your throat still feeling raw from all the screaming you did.

Shikamaru shot you a smile, one that instantly had your heart beating faster against your chest, heat rising to your cheeks. “Thank you for trusting me, (Name),” He allowed his body to fall onto the forest floor right beside you, sprawling out all of his limbs as his body calmed down from the emotional high he experienced. “And for not dying on me.”

A small smile tugged at your lips. “I would never. I’d feel too bad,” Your gaze flitted over to Shikamaru, taking in his exhausted form. “Plus, who else would have annoyed you then?”

The raven-haired brushed over your last comment. “I should have protected you better. As your teammate-”

You raised your hand to interrupt him, but not without letting out a cough. “It wasn’t your fault, I jumped in front of that knife. I’m sorry, Shikamaru.”

He let out a relieved chuckle, wiping his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand. “At least neither of us dying anymore,” He turned his head to look over at you, smiling. “What a mission.”

“Yeah, what a mission,” You echoed back, lost in the mesmerizing sight that was his eyes. For all these years, you had thought of Shikamaru wrong, and now you were mourning the wasted time. “Friends?”

Shikamaru blinked, for a moment not comprehending what you meant. But then, he nodded. “Friends.”

It was only small progress, but the third time after Shikamaru left such an impact on you, you knew, it would change your life for sure.