#I never come for him for anything outside of money. I never asked him for his time.i never got in the way of his life on purpose

[pinkaditty]

HI i love your works sm ,,, and i really love the way you write it just brings out soemtnhign in me ,,, but hear me out on leo kurosagi angst where leo keeps insulting pc and pc just took it well until he said something sensitive (maybe sth ab the way she eats? or sth abt her face etc etc) and hurt pc's feelings and he didnt feel bad when pc cried , but when he saw pc going over to sho and sho giving him dirty looks he feels remorseful but he didnt want his pride to crack so he blamed pc , and then when pc started avouding him he started mocking her but in the inside it hurt him and his pride slightly , afterwards he found out he actually has genuine feelings for pc but denies it , until he found out pc is now his bff's gf WOW i NEED him humbled 🤗🤗🤗

Pavlov's Ghoul (Leo Kurosagi x Reader x Sho Haizono; Tokyo Debunker)

hey anon this existing is UR FAULT. (ilysm ty 4 the idea) and i hope u don't mind that I added my own little twist 2 it... hehe! even if u didn't expect me 2 write anything u can't drop a fresh, juicy steak of an idea like this and expect me not 2 salivate and tear it 2 shreds via writing it out.

OMG also TYYYYYYY IM SOSO GLAD U LIKE MY WRITING YIPPEE!!!!!!!!! i hope this is up 2 ur standards anon

a/n: why does this exist? blame anon and my inner need 4 a bitchy boy 2 be humbled amen! also i feel like i've completed my tokyo debunker rite of passage... ive finally written leo angst... nirvana at last.

summary: leo gets fuckin pavloved LMAO! considered calling this "ecstasy" or something bc of the pill line but ohh my god "pavlov's ghoul" hit too hard i fear.

cw: this isn't dark imo but be warned as this is just a little bit crazy, the most insane kind of yearning ive ever written maybe. implied sexual encounters, multiple sexual innuendos, and some odd behavior. MINORS DNI AS PER USUALLLLLL!

Sho's kind, reasonably so. Leo knows this. Sho also has an infinite store of deeply repressed anger. Leo also knows this. It's the reason he's in Vagastrom, after all. A deep, roiling anger that seems to eat at him if he doesn't have an appropriate outlet to balance his mood. That's why he's such a good cook, why he's so good at fighting, why he's got an excellent sense of balance and rides his bike smoother than anyone else he knew. He's using these things as outlets for his anger. It's not Leo's fault that the occasional outing to trick and deceive another sexually repressed rich old man for money is something else Sho seems to derive stress relief from. And it's not Leo's fault that Sho continues to stick around with him after those jobs are done. It's never been a problem for either of them, as far as he can tell. At least, there were no problems until Little Miss Inspector showed up.

Suddenly, Sho didn't want to lie anymore. Suddenly, Sho wanted to go as far as to address you with the proper honorifics, ask for your help with setting up his food truck, and even generally spend time with you outside of that. And for what? Some trembling, scared, pathetic girl that knew nothing of the world of anomalies prior to her curse? Some girl doomed to "die" in less than one year, no less? He couldn't understand the kindness Sho showed you. It made no sense, nor any difference. You'd be dead soon, so what did it matter?

It's got to the point where he's begun to randomly put you down with petty insults and biting remarks. They usually consist of things like "Oh my god, even preschoolers know Anomalous Biological Basics! Come on Inspector, is your head screwed on right? Not even the Captain is this stupid." or "You remember your ability is useless when we need it, right? You'd be nothing more than a burden on missions if you can't even control this power. " or even "God, you're such a basic loser. Can't you find something else to do with your free time instead hang around Sho like a lovesick puppy? You're starting to look like that dog that's always around Kagami." and worse insults. He gets the occasional sidelong disapproving glance from Alan or even a slight furrowed brow from Sho, but it didn't matter to Leo. So long as he could slowly plant seeds of doubt in his fellow ghouls and put you down to satisfy his ego, even an odd look was negligible.

He couldn't even stand looking at you. The uniform they'd chosen for you was awful, didn't even highlight your curves. He hated the way you styled your hair, and always thought he could totally do it better. The way you seemed so relaxed around other ghouls pissed him off, why couldn't he be good company? He found you repulsive, unable to resist glaring at you from the corner of his eye whenever he could. He had to get rid of you somehow. He would never admit to feeling threatened by you; instead choosing to focus all that energy into believing you were simply throwing a wrench into his plans to live an easy, get-away-with-anything university life.

It's all come to a head today. Leo thinks he's had enough of seeing you at the food truck after hours, chatting it up with Sho. It's like he can't even catch this guy alone anymore. Before he knows it, he's made a beeline for the truck. His brand new shoes scuff on the brick path in his rush, and eventually begin to stain green on the grass, his brisk stride tearing through the verdant lawn. He tries not to let his anger show on his face, but it's evident in his posture and pace. He forcefully sidles himself into the conversation, leaning on the service counter next to you, not even waiting for you to finish speaking before he pipes up. "Wow, here again, huh? And here I thought a basic bitch like you would know her place! That mouth of yours must be good for something if he keeps a chatterbox like you around."

The chill settles into the air almost immediately despite his candid tone and relaxed, smug smile. He's so focused on your reaction that he hardly notices the look Sho gives him, twisted with displeasure and confusion. He watches as you visibly falter, your lopsided smile fading into a barely-there frown. He stares, unrepentant, laughing internally. This was the reaction he wanted.

He turns towards Sho and raises an eyebrow at his look. "What? She can take it." Sho's expression visibly wavers, and Leo fully expects him to back down, as he usually does. But instead, Sho turns to you and his face grows pale. Leo rolls his eyes, assuming Sho is totally overreacting, and turns to you. He stiffens at your visible tears. Okay, totally not what he expected, but come on. This was the insult that made you cry?

Leo notices Sho is at your side in record speed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, and gently drawing your hunched form away, giving Leo a harsh look. Leo simply scoffs. As far as he was concerned, your reaction was pathetic. It wasn't going to stop him from having any fun.

This. Under no circumstances should this hurt. At all.

Leo had noticed you'd been avoiding him. You would slink away if he so much as entered the same room as you. You wouldn't look him in the eyes if he approached, keeping your expression impassive. Sometimes you'd just outright ignore him. It was beginning to become a bit of a nuisance. He couldn't properly mock you if you weren't there to witness it happening, or didn't give him the reaction he wanted. It was odd. When he faced these feelings head-on, it almost felt like he wanted your attention somehow, even if he didn't quite want it to feel like that. A nagging feeling told him that maybe he went too far with his latest insult. He didn't want to admit that, but something told him he did. It was in the way both you and Sho acted around him.

Sho was missing a lot of Leo's calls lately, sometimes not even bothering to call back. Leo partially understood, what with the food truck business booming and all, but he didn't appreciate being made to wait for his own best friend who's usually at his beck and call. Not to mention the flat, terse responses he would get from Sho more often than not nowadays. Leo knew Sho was miffed with him from last week's incident, but as far as Leo was concerned, things still ended in his favor. He hadn't seen you around Sho much anymore, which means he could go back to how things were. No more pesky little honor student to reign upon his days any longer! Sure, there was the biting underlying feeling that maybe he'd screwed things up, but one ride on the back of Sho's motorcycle, going wherever Leo wanted as per usual, and he was living the dream again. No way everything would change over a silly, insignificant insult.

For a short while, he begins to get bolder, openly mocking you when he does come across you. His originally surface-level remarks become rather personal, even using your eventual death as a way to tease you. From "You know, I'm surprised you haven't done anything to change up that unflattering look, considering you're dying soon. Ever considered dressing up a little? You might get some attention before you die." to "Hey, Little Miss Inspector! With the number of men you talk to around campus, I'm surprised nobody's written you off as a whore yet!", and worse, of course. He continues to get no such reaction out of you, and it frustrates him to no end. Why couldn't you just frown? Shrink away? Or even retort something just as scathing back to him? Your lack of entertainment towards his endless ridicule reduced his motivation, and slowly, it ended up dying off. Soon, he left you alone altogether, not talking to you unless necessary, mimicking your actions. In a way, some part of him hopes maybe this will be what gets your attention. Even if he can't quite admit to himself that your attention, regardless of whether it's positive or negative, is what he wants.

It's late, but Vagastrom students don't go to bed until far later. And Leo needs a favor.

His crushing lack of success in garnering any sort of attention or reaction or rise from you had driven him to a point. He didn't want to apologize to you or anything, but this new habit of you ignoring him was beginning to stoke his displeasure. In his pondering, he remembered how easily Sho captured your gaze and wondered if maybe he'd have any idea of what Leo could do to at least put an end to this stalemate.

Leo's reluctance shows in the way he drags his feet on the path to Sho's room, less than eager to confront him for his opinion on something so shamelessly trivial. Why was he wasting his time with this anyway? Surprisingly, the lack of a solid answer to that question did not stop his trek. A twinge in his chest told him he knew exactly why he was "wasting his time".

In the month it had been since he'd made you cry, the nagging feeling had only gotten harsher. His mind kept flickering back to the shock of your tears and how he'd not bothered to consider it much further. An uncomfortable guilt had made itself known starting then. He never really expected you to cry; he just wanted a mild reaction. He wanted your eyes on him, flashing with anger, just for a moment. Your ire was a saccharine pill laced with ecstasy that he'd gladly crush with his teeth to speed up his high. Maybe it'd be too much to say he got off on it, but he enjoyed the way you used to roll your eyes at any comments from him a little more than he cared to admit. Now, he wouldn't even get that. It'd be rare for you to so much as make fleeting eye contact with him, not that something as small as that would be enough for Leo. Part of him was willing to accept that maybe, he'd gone too far. Maybe. But how else was he supposed to monopolize your attention when you give that out so freely? To his best friend, even?

He didn't know it was possible to covet something so terribly. He found himself wondering why he couldn't catch your attention in the same way as the other ghouls? In his quest for the same attention you gave so freely to the kinder, softer ghouls, he found another version of your attention. It was negative, but it was attention nonetheless. Your sweet, honeyed rage seemed to fill his cravings and then some, so he continued to devour it under the guise of "chasing you away" or "putting you down" or "satisfying his ego". In truth, for whatever reason, there was a rather bothersome and persistent envious longing, a covet, for your attention. Leo wants to vomit. A part of him denies it still, pushing his needless feelings to the back of his brain. He had something to do, and he ought to focus on that. What good would mere wallowing do?

He makes it to Sho's room and almost considers turning back. He stares at the door, his expression morphing into a complicated look. He shifted his feet, his slippers sliding against the floor. It was quite clear he really did not want to do this. At all. He sighs and grumbles indignantly, putting his head in his hands in an attempt to gather some courage. This couldn't be that hard, right? Just in, ask Sho a question, get an answer, then out. The only reason this was easier said than done was just because it could potentially show Leo was capable of feeling remorse, which would make this conversation leagues harder than it needed to be. He shakes his head and straightens up, preparing to knock, when he notices something.

Sho's room was... unusually quiet. Usually, Leo almost always heard some loud music or a cooking show running in the background, but he couldn't hear anything this time. Sho couldn't possibly be asleep. As late as it was, the only person who Leo knew for a fact could stay up past him was Sho, regardless of how much sleep he had gotten. There was no chance Sho was asleep. Believe it or not, Leo doesn't like to spy on Sho. But curiosity overwhelms him. What could he possibly be doing that would render the whole room in silence?

"Haxs," he whispers, listening closely.

The first thing he hears is the cling-clanging of Alan hard at work on a car in the garage. Not the sound he was meant to be focusing on. Then he hears endless jeering and loud insults shouted, though they're all muffled like they're underground. Another pit fight? Still, not the sound he's looking for. He sifts through the sounds he hears before he settles on the one coming directly from Sho's room.

Voices. Groaning, strained voices. The sound of wet skin against wet skin. Panting. Sho's panting, specifically. He could tell by the slight nasally tone of it.

Leo felt his face gradually warm. Christ, of course it'd be this he'd be up to. Leo muffles a laugh into the collar of his pajamas, keeping his hand clamped over his mouth as his body shook with mirth. When he finally calms down, he slinks off to the corner down the hall, and hides himself there, shamelessly still listening to it. Sho's a sly dog. Leo certainly didn't expect him to be getting up to anything this soon. He leans his body against the wall, crossing his arms and drumming his fingers on his arm, waiting for Sho to finish. He smirks to himself, as though enjoying the vocal show.

...

He had to admit, whoever he was with had gorgeous moans. He'd have to ask Sho if he'd be willing to pass this girl's number. He could use a couple things to get his mind off of you.

...

Okay, he had to stop listening to this now. He lifts his stigma and holds his hands over his ears for good measure, partially trying to hide the furious red blush across his face. As pretty as that girl's moans were, he was not going to listen to his best friend's climax. No thanks. He huffs out an impatient breath as his cheeks cool down, leaning his back against the wall, leaning his head back until it hit the wall with a dull thump. Now he just had to wait it out. He knew damn well Sho would never let a girl stay over. He'd never hear the end of it from yours truly, Leo.

Leo's right. It isn't long before he hears the door to Sho's room click, and hears murmured voices travel down the hall. He smirks, rushing down the hall in the opposite way, so it doesn't look like he was listening the whole time. He listens, waiting for a cue of some sort.

"Shame you have to go, you know." Sho's voice. Laced with relief, pleasure, and a thick tiredness. Leo's skin crawled. He could practically feel the smile in Sho's voice.

"It's not so bad." The girl responded with a light and playful tone, her voice seemingly much more put together than Sho's despite all that moaning. The voice sounded oddly familiar, but Leo brushed it off. Must be someone he shares classes with. "I've got things to do anyway. But it was nice to spend some time with you, Sho." Eagh. Leo internally hopes this girl isn't the type to get easily attached.

"...Yeah. Same to you. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Finally, he heard the girl's footsteps trailing down the hall, heading in his direction. Leo hurriedly pulls his phone out of his pocket, making sure the screen was bright as he flipped through the latest trends. He made a point of not looking up until he heard the footsteps nearing him.

He looks up, prepared for a simple glance, but ends up being rooted to the spot.

It was you. Of course, it was you. Who else would be taunting enough?

Despite himself, his gaze remains glued to you, his head turning as you walk past him. For a moment, Leo thinks you're just going to ignore him again. Then, suddenly, your gaze meets his in a flash, and he stiffens, almost out of fear. The way your eyebrows crease and the way your lips twitch downward almost makes him salivate. You were clearly displeased to see him. Even so, he notices you don't slow down, continuing your way down the hall, not bothering to crane your neck to look at him.

Leo remains rooted to the spot, watching your figure as you leave. His jaw hangs open slightly, his chest heaving with shocked breaths. His eyes are wide open, pools of gold reflecting your retreating form. His hand trembles as he holds his phone, the latest trends left neglected in the wake of a single mean-spirited glance from you. He feels his heart pound mercilessly in his chest, as though confirming what he'd tried so desperately to deny.

All at once, anger and arousal seem to grip him simultaneously. Anger at himself for feeling arousal from a mere negative glance from you. He couldn't possibly have craved your attention so viscerally he'd happily accept mere scraps. And yet here he was, a lap dog, watching you as you leave as though silently begging for another glance, another chance to watch your eyes burn with that familiar, delicious anger, another meal to satisfy his starved heart.

For a moment, he would have gladly followed you, and pestered you to death, just to irk you and become a willing victim of your wrath. Anything... just for that attention.

a/n: wow. no stop why am i kind of in shock at the poetic lines i kinda think i did a great job! but 4 whatever reason it's always the writing i think was total shit that does actual numbers *sob*

aghhhh in any case. no i don't have an excuse 4 this. my requests are still technically closed. i just... couldn't help myself... so consider this a freebie. regardless though if u like my writing feel free 2 fill the fuck out of my inbox idnc i love hearing from y'all.

also TUMBLR KEEPS TURNING OFF MY REBLOGS!!!! GRAH!!!!!! tumblr hates me y'all they keep catching on2 me 4 writing porn :( so please if u really wanna show appreciation and tumblr won't let u reblog, leave a comment! those make me happy :)

anyways. usual note that i adore likes, comments, and tagged reblogs!! please tell me how much you like my writing, i love to hear it and it keeps me going! until next timeeeeeeee!

EDIT: I FORGOTTT QUICK EXPLAINATION: im assuming everyone knows pavlov's dog and the whole classical conditioning theory. this story is basically that mixed with the mere-exposure effect.

neutral stimulus: mc's presence

natural response: leo's arousal/excitement

response-producing stimulus: mc's anger

mere-exposure effect: psychological effect in which a like or dislike of things is developed merely due 2 familiarity.

[milktiicup]

HEH I SAW YOU ASKING FOR REQUESTS SO.,,

How about a scenario where in an alternate universe, maybe, reader is a complete hikikomori and HATES to leave the house and that results in them always staying together and developing some kind of separation anxiety? Maybe reader gets money by doing some job on their computer or something, and that’s how they can afford it!

(Feel free to ignore if you don’t wanna do it/feel uncomfortable with it!)

-🦁 anon!!!!!

a world apart, together!

It was like a dream come true that he couldn’t exactly go outside. It meant he was yours, here and only here, where nothing could hurt him. Nothing could take him from you. 

‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🌊 ⋅ ˚✮ wow as much as i loved this idea, for the life of me i just genuinely couldn't think of anything to write until i had to go to the store and it was like a eureka! moment. sry for the wait my fav little anon <3

warnings. aaaaaabsolutely none!

You didn’t like going outside. You mean, why would you? There’s nasty people out there, there’s nothing for you to even do out there- everything you ever needed was right here, in this little apartment of yours- work, comfort, food. Naturally, the first time you step outside in a while transports you into some whole other realm. 

Thankfully for your own sanity, you couldn’t communicate with most of the monsters, and whatever words you did pick up were relatively simple and repetitive. Monsters that towered over you, landscapes that defied logic, and the pervasive, bone-deep fear that you’d never find your way back. The one thread of hope that kept you moving, like a lifeline in the dark, was the thought of home.

Home meant safety. Home meant control. It meant not having to face the unknown.

Of course, under no circumstances, could you ever find  romance with your lifestyle. You didn’t like going outside. You didn’t have any dating apps. The only way for you to ever somehow magically get a partner, was if it was shoved onto you. 

And now you have a live-in monster-ghost-roommate-boyfriend-thing that’s totally into you and you’re totally into him. You weren’t complaining, though- he fit into your quiet little life perfectly, a ray of sunshine in a pitch black room, a kiss in the morning and someone to watch TV with a gasp and ‘ohhh’ and ‘ahh’ at all the exciting moments. 

It was like a dream come true that he couldn’t exactly go outside. It meant he was yours, here and only here, where nothing could hurt him. Nothing could take him from you. 

But it’s not like you can stay inside forever. Appointments, errands, obligations- it’s a part of life, that sometimes, you’re just required to go outside.

You hated it. You felt sick. You felt the nervous bundle up in your stomach, twisting and turning at all angles, never relenting. Your mind races with all the possibilities of things going wrong- you could trip and fall and embarrass yourself in front of everyone, you could miss your train to your appointment and be late, or you could lose your phone, house keys, sanity…

“You not okay.”

You pause, pacing halted, and thumb with teeth marks. Your gaze shifts to Mr. Crawling, hands on the floor in front of him, head tilting and hair dangling with worry. A frown tugs at your lips, mirroring his, and you take a breath, sitting on the sofa. This would never get any easier.

“You walk around. What wrong?” Mr. Crawling asks, pulling himself up beside you. Immediately, his long arms encase you in a cold hug. It grounds you.

Sighing through your nose, you lean your head against his shoulder. You breathe in- he smells of something otherworldly; a mix of ozone and yet of the damp earth as if it had just freshly rained, but the hint of death was noticeable. “I have to go outside.”

His frown deepens, arms wrapping tighter around you, as if shielding you from the world. Mr. Crawling wasn’t stupid- he could tell you weren’t fond of the world outside of your apartment, not that he was complaining. “Outside bad?” he puzzles, but you can tell he already knows the answer.

“I don’t like it,” you swallow, body burning, “It’s loud and busy, and… I just don’t like it. I hate it.”

“Hate?”

“Big dislike.”

“Big dislike outside…” Mr. Crawling ponders. “No want you sad,” he peppers kisses to the top of your head, hands rubbing at your shoulders and back, “Me worry you. Me go with you, come. Me go together you.”

Warmth blooms through you like a flower in the fresh spring. The idea was comforting. A small smile tugs at your lips- it’s a sweet gesture, but impractical. “You’d come with me?” You cup his face, dragging your thumbs over his grey cheeks. “People might notice. Or… freak out.”

Mr. Crawling grasps onto your wrists gently, nuzzling his face into your palm. “Someone else not important.”

“That’s sweet, but it’s not that simple. I don’t want you to get hurt. Or worse, you know… discovered.”

He takes a moment to process your words, your language catching onto him. He tilts his head, his bottom lip pouting out. You can see he was deep in thought. Mr. Crawling’s sharp giggle cuts through the silence, and he darts away to your bedroom. You furrow your brows. You watch, bemused, as he rummages through the few jackets you own before settling on a loose hoodie. He throws it on, the oversized garment hanging awkwardly off his frame, the hood nearly swallowing his hair.

“See? Me hide,” he announces proudly, the sleeves flopping as he stretches his arms out for emphasis. 

You press your lips together in a thin line in a futile attempt to stifle your laugh. Mr. Crawling looks ridiculously- adorably ridiculous. “I don’t think it works like that,” you say, words soft. He’s pulling at the strings of your heart so harshly it’s hard to not throw yourself at him.

“Me go together you!” he insists, crawling back over to you and plopping himself on the floor at your feet. “Me with you. Me come, afraid, not here. You mine, me yours. Protect.” His long arms wrap around your legs, and he rests his chin on your knee, the oversized hood drooping over his face.

You lay a hand on his head, the hoodie fabric soft under your touch. The hood drooped over his face, but you could still see the hopefulness in his grin. Your face falls, sighing, and you resolve crumbles. 

“Alright, you can come. But you have to stick close to me. And no scaring people, okay?”

“Okay!” His grin is instant, and he nuzzles his head against your knee like an oversized cat.

You hadn’t even stepped out the door, and already, you couldn’t wait to come home. To pull him back into your arms, where he belonged. Where he was safe. Where he was yours. And the thought of leaving him behind, even for a moment, made your heart ache in a way you weren’t sure you could bear.

[hollyhomburg]

(Angst) I have this headcannon for the angsty alternative ending for BILY, that when the pack are in their ‘living apart, no idea where the m/c is or if she’s safe/hurting/needs them but trying to be respectful of the fact that she does not want to be apart of the pack anymore’ era sometimes… her mating mark starts to feel like an ache, and the loneliness burns through her no matter how much she tries to ignore it.

And she tosses and turns in her little attic apartment aware that she doesn’t even have their numbers anymore because it’s been a year or two too long, she doesn’t even remember what yoongis might be. But she knows where the house is, she knows how to get too it.

So…she goes, looks at it from the street first, the warm windows upstairs, the dark downstairs, the soft light in taes library room. Sometimes she gets angry by the fact that she can’t turn back time, can’t go back.

Other times- when the touchstarvedness feels like a gaping wound, she ascends those steps and sits on the outdoor furniture, just for a bit. Just to soak in the little bit of the packs scents, just a tiny bit of their comforting presence. Aware that someone is watching from the window, that there is light under the door, that it’s probably not locked, she could go in but-

She doesn’t. She just sits out there and closes her eyes and then leaves. Sometimes she wishes the packmate watching her would come out and yell at her, shake her by her baggy hoody, and ask her what the fuck shes doing- sitting out here like a stray dog when she’s the one who ran away but they never do.

Once she falls asleep and wakes up to a blanket covering her. Unsure who noticed her out there cheeks burning angry suddenly at no one and nothing just- angry at how things played out. And she leaves- without ever knowing who in the pack is still holding a flame for her.

If I had to put my money on who it was, I’d say jimin. Because logically- anyone else would confront her, spook her with their concern, or worse. But jimin has always been a calculating alpha, has always been able to picture the long con.

He takes in everything- her clothes, not dirty (so she isn’t Litterally homeless, which is good because then he might not manage to resist dragging her inside), but that her wrists- thin and her cheeks- hollow. more hollow than they’ve ever been before (which is not good, because if she dies yoongi dies and she might- she needs)

She looks like rage and grief and trauma are eating her alive again. And jimin would be startled by this- but he sees it every day in yoongi so- he’s a little too used to it.

So Jimîn turns his instincts down to a simmer, and settles for the long hunt

Maybe once or twice when she comes over jimin notices and comes outside- doesn’t say anything just sits next to her, neither of them offering a hand- but maybe a cigarette every now and then. The smoke burning out the words they can’t say- or maybe they actually do talk. Eventually, after the first few times. I imagine it’s one where she comes to him and her hands are visibly shaking. It’s not even winter out anymore- it’s not even cold but she couldn’t lift a glass to her lips without spilling it.

And jimîn wonders if it’s Parkingsons? Drugs? Hunger? It’s hard to tell.

So instead jimîn asks, “do you need money?”

“No, why?” Her voice sounds the same, and jimin does not cry hearing it. Somehow he thought she’d sound different. But it’s the same voice that tae hears in her nightmares, the same voice that jimin once heard begging for namjoons life- the same voice he hears on one of the few recordings yoongi has on his old phone that seem to be the only thing that helps these days.

It’s the same, and jimin almost thought she might not be able to talk still.

He breathes deep, because those times have passed now. They’re both here. Mostly Alive. Jimin geastures with the cigarette.

“To stop whatever that is.” But she doesn’t say anything, doesn’t do anything but shove her hands in her pockets. She leaves- and jimin almost lets her go without saying anything.

“You could come inside you know.” Jimin drinks in the way she looks back at him, half hidden in the shadow at the edge of the streetlight already.

“I know, I just don’t want too.”

And that hurts, that leaves jimjn smoking a whole pack on the porch until the sun starts to rise and his eyes are bloodshot But she comes back, she always comes back.

Jimin starts to store little facts about her. The faded x’s on the back of her hands, the sometimes stamps, the tattoos poking out from under her sleves the thick one over the mating mark on her neck, a rose- is that for tae? Can she smell taes scent from here? does she know that tae fell asleep tonight crying? Jimin’s drenched with the smell of her displeasure. Jimin did notice- the second he walked out- the flare of her nostrils. He doesn’t want to say it.

Good. He thought. She should know

We all miss you

They sit like that. Burning out one cigarette between the two of them, then another, then another before jimin speaks.

“Tae published another book”

“I know, I saw, I even bought the damn thing but-“

“it’s about you, you know”

“I know, I could tell from the damn cover” she takes another puff. “I’m not gonna read it.”

“her readers are eating it up, might even get made into a movie, you know how much teenage girls love starcrossed lovers and all that.”

The m/c would pause, looking jimin up and down, “I know”

another time the m/c offers him a cigarette and jimin says “I quit” and maybe it’s because he already looks guilty that has the m/c asking for more.

“why?”

And then he’d say slowly like he didn’t want to admit it, “jins pregnant again, you know what they say about second hand smoke.” And jimin would- feel not quite so vindicated about the brief look of betrayal across her face but- at least a bit soothed by it. At least she has emotions for them, at least she might want- “more for me then”

and jimin might try and reach up, might try and knock it out of her hand- but she flinches back from the touch, denying it.

Maybe they never touch, maybe that’s one of their rules. I bet she doesn’t come back for a good long while after that. And then one night, jimîn sees her - the back of her head catching the porch light, the distant coos of the new pup upstairs, namjoon’s voice soothing. He pauses looking at the back of her head. Waiting long enough that namjoon calls down the stairs soft “minnîe? Is there something on the porch?” And namjoon might be able to see jimjn from the top of the steps, sees the alpha school his expression neutral, aware that the m/c has turned at the sound of his voice and that she’s looking at jimin and-

And someone’s hurt her. Someone- it had to be someone. Her eyes is swollen, her lip is bloody. Jimin’s heart kicks up and his scent goes sour- upstairs the little pup starts to cry instead of coo, picking up on it.

But jimj schools his scent into something manageable says “it’s nothing hyung, just a stray” And jimin goes back upstairs to get namjoon a bottle but by the Time he gets back down she’s already gone.

There’s a bit of blood on the cushion though. And a note shoved under one of the cushions. Shoved inside a empty pack of cigarettes. “I thought you’d told them I was coming here.”

And when the m/c gets back to her apartment after a long night of work (as a bartender or maybe manager probably) she finds a note under the coffee pot in her kitchen, the edge sticking out.

‘Of course I didn’t tell, I’ll always keep your secrets’

[strange-anni]

I assume following that train of thought as to how Earl knows Will primarily through Lonnie would get real dark real soon. Deducing what Lonnie might have offered Earl in exchange for drugs if he doesn't have money but property is ... let's say unpleasant.

It's very weird. I guess if you were to go from the angle of saving screentime because Henry would have likely said the same thing as Earl, you could have added a throwaway line like "I asked Henry and he confirmed what Earl" said. That didn't happen though. I've watched the whole first season and none of that happened.

It's not the only thing either because at the very beginning of the show it's almost like a lot the important people are somehow sabotaging the investigation? Joyce mentioned twice how she doesn't believe Lonnie could be the reason behind Wills disappearance. At first I thought how bad that is because she still seems to be somewhat reliant on Lonnie after everything and would never assume he'd do anything bad. This in itself sends out bad signals to her sons. If she doesn't believe Lonnie is capable of doing bad things, how are her sons supposed to trust her with the truth?

But that's not even the only thing which I found weird. After Hopper first comes to investigate the house and he sees Chester outside barking and looking at the shed/ the woods and asks what's going on Joyce deflects and says Chester might just be hungry and takes him away. Why would she do this?

And then after all of this Hopper listens to Joyce and doesn't investigate who he believes to be the prime suspect? Instead he relies on the victims 16 year old brother to find out if their father might have abducted his youngest son? Like that would not be dangerous at all? They're having a whole search party going through the woods but not a single responsible adult even dares to ask the prime suspect a single question

What??

In S1E1 there are two men at Bennys

Then later in S1E2 when Hopper asks about the missing kid (Will) Earl says this:

Hopper: Just you and the boys? Earl: Yep. Me and Henry and Well, there was this, uh, this kid.

Then

Earl: I didn't get a good look at him, though. He was back in the kitchen. Hopper: He look like this? Earl: Oh, no, that's, that's Lonnie's missin' kid.

In S1E5 we hear of Henry again

Powell: We tried calling, but - Hopper: Yeah, the phone's dead. Callahan: Hey, so Bev Mooney came in this morning all upset. Said that Dale and Henry went hunting yesterday and they didn't come back home.

Then

Hopper: Where did Henry and Dale go hunting? Callahan: Oh. Uh, out near Kerley. Hopper: Mirkwood.

[kooktrash]

million dollar darling | jeon jungkook

summary: jeon jungkook is well aware of how privileged he is to have been born into the life he was given. it was glamorous and influential yet close-knit and suffocating, something he thought he wanted to escape from. a trip back home to the circle of wealth and snottiness for his best friend’s million dollar wedding has reminded him of all the reasons why he wanted to leave in the first place… and all the reasons he should stay — the main one being you, the spoiled rich girl he knew was utterly perfect for him.

➣ genre/au: jungkook x model!reader [she/her, female anatomy], old money au, smut, plot [soft on the e2l/f2l tropes]

[loosely inspired by ‘crazy rich asians’ movie/book by kevin kwan]

➣19.7k words

warnings: heavy plot. smut. model oc. jk is a wander but he’s really just a rich guy in disguise. oc and jk got heavy tension but good banter. oc is kinda snotty but not really? namjoon x oc [not y/n]. rich, old money snotty bts. sex on a yacht. teasing. foreplay. oral [f and m receiving]. jk goes to town on oc. cunnilingus. unprotected. missionary. oc on top. jk is tatted up in a polo. heavy makeout. breast play. fingering. dirty talk. oc goes down on jk while he’s on the phone with hobi 😭. jk’s villain arc as he slowly turns back into a cocky rich boy hehe. jk gets sex flashbacks at dolce and gabbana

“Come on, it’s my wedding and I want you as my best man. Do it for your best friend.”

The sky had been clear when he landed, a bright blue cloudless sky that resembled the clarity of the sea he had left behind. The air already seemed stiffer and the bleakness of the airport brought his mood down almost immediately.

The only thing to make him somewhat happy to be home was the sight of the person in front of him, a huge grin on his face as he saw him. The man was dressed casual in a pair of sweats and a hoodie but the small details of his watch matched with the luxury car parked outside brought unwelcome attention to Jungkook when people stared.

“I was worried you bailed last minute,” Namjoon said with a grin as he pulled him into a hug, “It’s good to see you.”

“I wouldn’t,” Jungkook reached into the pocket of his oversized black hoodie and slid his face mask off, taking a cigarette and lighting it once they were outside the airport, “It’s been too long without seeing your beautiful face.”

“Yeah, don’t tell Yeonwoo, but I’d marry you if you weren’t such a man,” Namjoon joked, playfully flirting which Jungkook just laughed off.

“Too bad you’re not my type,” Jungkook patted his shoulder apologetically, “Besides, where is the bride?”

“Getting her hair done for tonight,” Namjoon said as they got into a Bentley Mulssane, “Also, please drive, I’m scared.”

“Hyung,” Jungkook scoffed, taking the keys anyway, “If you hate driving so much why buy an expensive car?”

“Yeonwoo liked the color,” Namjoon said as he got in the passenger’s seat of his own car, “Are you staying with your parents? I could still find you an apartment.”

“For a week? Don’t bother, I’m staying at a hotel,” Jungkook said, turning the engine on and driving out.

Namjoon sighed, “So you really are leaving again?”

“Was there ever a doubt I was?” Jungkook asked in surprise.

“Duh, kid. We miss you, you rarely call, you never visit, you barely respond and we know nothing that goes on with you,” Namjoon said, “I thought once you got your fill of life experiences, you’d come back.”

Jungkook didn’t say anything at that, sniffling uncomfortably as he tried switching the subject, “So, who’s my partner?”

This time Namjoon was the one to freeze up, staring out the window with sunglasses on and his jaw locked. With a shy smile, he asked, “Are you gonna bring a date?”

His brows furrowed as he looked at his friend, “Who’s the Maid of Honor?”

Namjoon released a nervous laugh, “Y/n L/n.”

The silence in the car was loud and from the way Jungkook’s jaw tensed and his eyes narrowed, it was easy to see he wasn’t happy about that. You? You were the Maid of Honor and his partner down the aisle?

“You know, her and Yeonwoo are close and Yeonwoo’s always thinking about who looks the best next to her on camera and obviously she’s gonna choose the runway model but listen,” Namjoon could barely catch a breath, “Y/n’s matured more now and she’s going to be there tonight so please be on your best behavior.”

“Tonight? What’s tonight?” Jungkook’s tone was sharper now and Namjoon huffed in annoyance.

“The rehearsal dinner on the pier, it was all in the catalog I sent you,” Namjoon said, “It’s for press. Our parents want to get it on Forbes and Vogue, they want to make it the Wedding of the Year.”

They both laughed at that and Jungkook sighed, “So there’s gonna be cameras?”

“Yeah but don’t worry they won’t focus on you,” Namjoon said with a smirk, “The attention’s going on me.”

When Jungkook pulled up to the hotel he would be staying at for the week, Namjoon left him to settle in with a promise that he would make it tonight so he had no choice not to. A letter from a close friend was sitting on the coffee table and he set his things down to get it.

It was a big envelope with a card and a few things rattling inside that made him curious. Jungkook turned the envelope down so the contents would fall onto his palm and a roll of condoms slipped out.

‘Welcome home buddy, enjoy the penthouse and may all your frustrations come undone — Jung Hoseok.’

The note itself made him scoff in disbelief. His womanizing friend making jokes before they’ve actually reunited. He left the things on the table and left to shower, doing what he could to make himself look presentable for tonight.

Tonight was the beginning of a soon-to-be hectic week of photoshoots, brunches, parties and finally the wedding. You were one of the ones front and center, never taking the limelight from the bride but carrying your own sense of grace that had people turning heads when you walked into a room—or in this case riverwalk.

You vowed to appear your best tonight and opted for a silk, powder blue Prada dress paired with Swarovski crystals on your neck. You did your part as Maid of Honor, directing all attention to your friend, polite smile and gentle assurance when needed in front of a crowd. Yeonwoo found it comical how well you fit into character when you need to.

“The perfect friend,” Yeonwoo joked as you dabbed smeared lip gloss from her lips, “What would I do without you?”

“Oh, I hope you never have to find out,” You said in a gentle voice that feigned innocence and longing. Yeonwoo laughed as she was called toward other people and you let her go as you found the nearest server holding a glass of champagne. You took a glass, turning toward the railing overlooking the shore, tipping your glass back and chugging as much of the drink as possible.

“So this is where the Maid of Honor will be spending her night?” A familiar deep voice spoke up from behind you and a mischievous smile grew on your face. You set the glass down, straightened your posture and turned to him with a soft gaze.

“Now you know that’s not fair, Joon, I’ve been with Yeonwoo most of the night,” you told him, already motioning for another server to give you a glass, completely ignoring the man standing beside him.

“I believe you, darling, now why don’t you come say hi to the Best Man,” Namjoon pushed Jungkook forward who just glared at him in response, “You remember Jeon Jungkook, right?”

“It’s been two years, not ten,” You said, finally looking at Jungkook with a glimmer of annoyance in your eyes, matched by his stare of unamusement.

“Alright well why don’t you two get reacquainted while I search for the gorgeous love of my life,” Namjoon said, making his escape as quick as possible.

“You counted?” Jungkook asked, taking just one step toward you, trying to stop his eyes from trailing down your figure.

“Of course,” You said sarcastically, “I’ve just missed you so.”

He couldn’t stop the roll of his eyes as he turned to the water, “You knew we were partners?”

“Obviously, I know everything,” you said with a scoff that had his tongue pressing against his cheek, clearly annoyed, “Like how you’re staying at one of the Jung’s hotels instead of home. How you plan on leaving still, where you landed, how long you’ve been her—“

“So you’re stalking me?” Jungkook asked, only half joking.

“Don’t you wish,” you laughed, “You’re all over the news.”

His smile dropped. When he had nothing to say, you grew bored and left him behind, making sure to lightly graze your fingers against his arm as you said, “And just remember, you’re the one who despises me, not the other way around.”

With that, you left without looking back and he was left watching the sway of your hips when you walked away.

Money rules the world, even when people want to say it doesn’t. The people who have it are living the dream and the ones who don’t, want the dream. It doesn’t even have to be the luxurious wonders of the world, it could be as little as financial stability or surviving. At the end of the day, it was a Rich Man’s world and this group of individuals were born lucky.

First, the groom: Kim Namjoon. The man with it all, the money, the family, the education, son of millionaires with three hospitals in their name and a line of pharmacies all across the globe.

The bride: soon-to-be, Kim Yeonwoo. The heiress to half a dozen airlines, an airport funded by her family for decades and a beautiful island in her name off the coast.

Kim Seokjin, practically a prince, generations worth of politicians, the highest education and a trust fund worth millions. He was the one you’ll see with the president or in Australia, golfing with men in charge.

Jung Hoseok, the hotel heir to a chain of ten thousand hotels across the globe. He was the one you’ll most likely catch partying in Venice with a princess whose name he couldn’t actually remember—or maybe giving a waitress the night of her life.

Min Yoongi, eldest son of an elite banking firm formed a hundred years ago. He was private about his life, similar to Jungkook, he only came out when he was summoned by one of the others.

Kim Taehyung was wild as Hoseok but more quiet about it. He’ll soon be heir of the billion dollar empire his family built in the Art world of museums and curations and performing arts.

Now, Jungkook’s story was a bit different from the others. His family worked in land development, most of the country being built on the backs of the Jeon’s who brought cities to rural areas and avoided the public’s eye.

They had the kind of old money that everyone knew, even when they tried to stay out of the news.

It was the kind of old money, people could never stop talking about and you understood what that meant most.

There was a mystery to the fortune of your family, it was old money, so old nobody knew where it came from. Some say oil, some claim aristocrats but it was too far back, and too private for any to know. All the public knew were the generous and loving philanthropists and their perfect daughter, the Nation’s Sweetheart, you.

You really were loved by all, the camera, the press, everyone. They all saw the kind, innocent girl in the public’s eye but only a few saw the snotty, spoiled and downright disrespectful side of you that was real.

Where Jungkook craved independence and isolation from his family name, you soaked in it. The attention. The money. The dependence, you were the complete opposite of him and it drew him insane.

One might ask why he was around you if he really did despise you, but for a long time it wasn’t up to him. The group didn’t all become friends one magical night when you compared your family’s net worth.

No, this bond had grown between galas, private academies, horse riding lessons at the country club and family businesses. It was a very elite, classist society where only the ultra rich could really only trust in each other and keep a country afloat off of it.

Do you think Namjoon would have been allowed to marry Yeonwoo if her parents weren’t as rich as they were?

Do you think Seokjin would have married his wife that he met at Oxford if her family hadn’t been international shipping magnates?

It was like a spider web, they were all connected in some way, all controlled and that’s what Jungkook hated.

He loved his friends, truly, but he hated the control. Not a single one of them had real freedom and every little thing they did came with a price and he couldn’t live that way anymore. He understood his own privilege and how lucky he was to grow up in such a way but he knew there was more to life than just that. When he left home for the first time, he didn’t expect to feel so free. It was like a sense of independence he’s not sure any of his friends have felt and now that he’s back he’s reminded once again of how suffocating it all is.

There had to be at least a hundred guests in attendance tonight and he couldn’t find a moment of silence. The suit he wore felt uncomfortable and he hated the way it seemed to confine him, make him more rigid and stiff.

“Please Jungkook, I was only being funny. Did it bother you that much?” Hoseok asked with a tinge of mischief in his voice.

“No,” Jungkook shrugged as he looked around the banquet hall, “I just found it unnecessary.”

“Really? I would’ve assumed the opposite considering you’ll be spending a lot of time with Y/n this week,” Taehyung said with a shrug as the three of them stood off to the side, talking amongst themselves as the guests of the charity banquet focused on your parents who stood on stage making some speech about the importance of giving.

As if on cue, the spotlight turned toward you where you smiled politely and acted shyly for the cameras.

A scoff left his lips as he pulled his gaze away from you, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Hoseok chuckled, “Oh come on man, everyone knows you have a thing for her—you’re really bad at hiding it.”

With a roll of his eyes, Jungkook stepped away from his friends, “You guys don’t know anything.”

He didn’t have a thing for you.

Sure, you’ve known each other for a long time but that means nothing. He’s known them all for a long time and if anything he's made his distaste toward you pretty evident. When you were younger it was only because you were so spoiled and the attention had to always be on you. He hated watching everyone fall for your sweetness and do whatever you asked of them. He almost fell for it himself a couple times but then he would see the way you judged or looked down on people and he just despised you more.

There’s nothing about you that attracts him aside from your looks…

Tonight you were dressed more modestly in a Chanel sweater and skirt set that looked like you would soon be relaxing at the country club. You wore a black headband with a bow on it and satin gloves, looking as polite as ever while you talked to anyone who approached you.

You were the perfect, doting daughter and anyone with eyes could see that.

“So how mad are you?” Yeonwoo asked once you had settled back in your chair next to her and Namjoon. Even Namjoon seemed to listen in on the question, waiting to hear what you would say.

“What do I have to be mad at?” You asked with a tight smile as you reached toward her to fix a slight smudge on her cheek, “ Jungkook?”

“Well, we know you have some sort of disliking toward each other but…” Yeonwoo bit her lip nervously, “Joonie and Jungkook are really close.”

“We know you two don’t like each other but you should have expected this, right?” Namjoon chuckled nervously, “You’re both our best friends and…”

“Am I saying anything?” You asked.

They shared a look with each other, “I guess not.”

You smiled, “Okay, then let’s just make sure everything runs smoothly this week.”

You did in fact feel a type of way about Jeon Jungkook but you weren’t going to admit that right now surrounded by so many people always lingering around trying to listen. You’ve learned to be very careful about how you act in public and there’s no way your friends will get you to act out by asking about him.

Jungkook was not someone you wished to exhort so much energy on. He wasn’t worth anything to you and despite how many years you’ve known him, you’ve never wished to get to know him. You don’t care where he goes when he’s not home or who he talks to, nor what he does. He doesn’t cross your mind at all through your normal day to day and you surely weren’t going to let him in this week. All he has going for him is his money and his looks.

Ever since you learned he would be the Best Man you thought about what that would mean and accepted that he would be the one to walk with you down the aisle. Despite not being happy about it, you managed to hide your resentment quite well.

You know how he feels about you and over time that’s made you develop a disliking toward him which you find only fair. He might dislike you for being spoiled but you dislike him for being so entitled.

For some reason, he thinks distancing himself from this life means he’s better than everyone else and you hate that. He thinks that by moving away and making his own money suddenly makes him different than the rest of you but that’s not true. He just wants to act like he’s self made so he can feel superior to all of you trust fund babies and that is what annoyed you.

After some time third wheeling, you were getting tired and slightly annoyed watching the couple act lovey dovey. You hated couples, they grossed you out even if they were your best friends.

“Mind if I keep you company? You look like you need it.”

With a furrow in your brows, you turned to face the person who felt the need to whisper in your ear and get close to you without permission. A smile spread across your lips at the man standing directly behind you, his arm draping over your front and hugging you.

“Hello, darling, I’ve missed you,” Jimin’s voice was soft yet sultry and you gave each other kisses on the cheek in greeting as he moved to the empty seat beside you.

“I didn’t realize you were back,” You said to him, “How was Paris?”

He released a sigh, “Oh the usual, shopping… a few events here and there.”

“Mhm, and when’d you get back?” You asked, now intrigued by his presence.

“Just last night. I was planning on visiting you earlier but things came up,” Jimin said, adjusting the Swiss watch on his wrist, admiring the shine, “What has happened since I was gone?”

“Oh God, he’s back,” Hoseok rolled his eyes from across the room, “I ran into him in Marseille the other day and the guy wanted to act like he didn’t know me.”

“He’s been insufferable since Uni,” Taehyung muttered under his breath, “I don’t understand why Y/n puts up with him.”

“Who?” Jungkook asked, only half curious. He hadn’t been paying attention until he heard your name and his reason for hearing it was purely coincidental.

“Park Jimin,” Hoseok clarified, making Jungkook look closer at the man who sat very close to you, making you smile and touch his arms when you spoke.

“Am I supposed to know who that is?” Jungkook seemed indifferent as he looked down at his glass of champagne, trying to resist the urge to look back at you.

“Not at all,” Taehyung said, “He’s just some guy we went to Uni with here. I don’t know how he met Y/n though, probably at some shitty party but he’s nobody that matters.”

Well… Park Jimin was the son of starlets. His great grandmother, his grandmother was an actress, his mother was an actress and he’s been in a few independent films here and there. He spends most of his time sailing on yachts or speaking of the Cannes Film Festival. He’s insanely rich, but he’s still not rich enough despite his accumulated generational wealth.

Unlike Jungkook’s wealth which held actual value especially in real estate, Jimin’s just didn’t compare to his or any of his friends for that matter. So why did you seem captivated by him?

He is aware he shouldn’t think this way, it’s only him reverting back to his old self which was all arrogance and entitlement. He shouldn’t think about how much wealthier he was compared to Jimin.

Unfortunately, Jungkook couldn’t seem to drag his gaze away from the pair as he tipped his champagne glass back, liquid pouring down his throat.

“Do you think she’ll take him to the wedding? I doubt Namjoon or Yeonwoo would ever invite him themselves,” Hoseok said and the three seemed like a group of gossips, the way they huddled around each other.

In Jungkook’s defense, he was barely listening to his friends. He was too busy watching the interaction happening not far from where he stood, eyes narrowed trying to understand what was happening.

First, he didn’t like you. He found you unbearable and you were the epitome of everything he hated about the High Society he had been raised in.

Second, he was only looking because you were next to his best friends. Maybe he wanted to see how in love Namjoon and Yeonwoo were but he couldn’t see because of you and your… friend.

Third, he wanted to know how you managed to stand out in your outfit despite the room being filled with people in extravagant clothes.

“I’m not sure, actually, rumors say she might,” Taehyung said and Jungkook couldn’t help but look over.

“What?”

“We’re just wondering if the Maid of Honor would bring her little boy toy to the wedding,” Hoseok said, looking at Jungkook as his jaw tensed, “What do you think?”

“I don’t care if Y/n brings anyone, we’re just dates for the pictures and ceremony,” Jungkook said with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“So are you going to take a date too then?” Taehyung asked.

“Maybe,” Jungkook said as a server came around holding a tray of champagne glasses and he switched his empty one out for a full one. He didn’t bother to look back at his friends as he began walking away, “I’ll be back.”

“It’s so hard for him to act like he doesn’t care.”

“Kook! Come here, man,” Namjoon said with a wide grin as he saw his best friend walking by them. Jungkook didn’t bother glancing down at you as he greeted his friend.

“Kooky, I haven’t seen you all night,” Yeonwoo stood up to hug him, “Please don’t seduce my future husband, everyone has already RSVP’d.”

“Oh Yeonie,” Jungkook softly caressed her cheek, tipping her chin up to look at him, “If I wanted him, I would have had him by now.”

“Joon!” Yeonwoo whined clinging to Namjoon who just winked at Jungkook, further amplifying his fiancé’s feigned sobs. Jungkook smiled watching her squirm and without him meaning to, he let his gaze fall toward you.

“Y/n.”

You met his intense stare with your own and you could hear Jimin say he was going to get a drink but you didn’t look at him. You looked down at what Jungkook was wearing—a plain black Prada suit, how boring. “Jungkook.”

“Is that who you’re bringing to the wedding?” Jungkook asked, looking back at the infamous Park Jimin who stood with Taehyung and Hoseok, all three of them pretending to enjoy each other’s company.

“Maybe, we do get along very well,” you said with a sly smile as you stood up, not yet reaching Jungkook’s height but he didn’t intimidate you, “Is that a problem?

“No,” Jungkook said, voice low and deep, “I was just curious.”

“And why were you curious?” You asked, a mocking tone in your voice that he didn’t like, “Do tell me, how often are you curious about what I do?”

A scoff left his lips as he looked away from you first, “It was just a question, don’t get ahead of yourself and think you matter to me more than you do.”

An evident pout appeared on your lips and for a second his expression changed with worry but the moment was fleeting. You just laughed [giggled, actually] and with a gentle touch to his arm, said, “No need to lie to yourself.”

His eyes narrowed, anger bubbling up inside him when he heard a shutter of cameras going off, flash in his face and without thinking, he took your hand in his and left.

“If you plan on kidnapping me, it won’t work,” You said teasingly as you left to some dark corner behind large pillars.

“I’m not going to put up with a week of your games,” Jungkook said as he let go of your hand, missing the way your eyes fell to the black ink on his knuckles—something you had never noticed before, not even on the yacht when it was dark out.

“Then stop playing into them,” you said with a laugh, “If I drive you crazy, why bother talking to me at all? I think we’re both very capable of ignoring each other enough to not have to say a single word.”

“What I mean is, you can put on this act of yours for the cameras but don’t drag me into it,” Jungkook told you, ignoring the idea you had thrown out there. He was referring to your strange smiles and touches you give him when in the public.

“I’m not dragging you into anything,” You rolled your eyes, “And you seem to forget all eyes have been on you since you got back—heir to the Jeon Corporation. What do you think people will say when they find out you dragged me out here all alone? The Big, Bad & Rebellious Jeon Jungkook and The Nation’s Sweetheart, me.”

His eyes shut with a hint of anger that he tried to subdue, “Sweetheart?”

“That’s what I said,” you smiled sweetly to prove your point making him scoff.

“You’re not a sweetheart, you’re a spoiled brat,” Jungkook said, looking down at you in your pretty clothes with your pretty jewelry and your pretty face.

“Nice of you to finally notice,” you said bitterly and with a roll of your eyes, you pushed into his shoulder on purpose as you walked past him, “But we’re all the same, aren’t we? Just some of us like to act all high and mighty because you leave home craving independence, ignoring your privilege to seem like better people.”

Jungkook felt the jab of your words but he let you walk past him without a rebuttal.

With a sense of frustration, he ran his fingers through his hair, trying to collect himself to rejoin High Society and finish the night with his head held high.

When Jungkook left his hotel the day of the Bachelor Party, he hadn’t been sure what to expect. Hoseok had done most of the planning for it since he had been abroad and when it comes to Hobi, you never know what to expect. It was almost two days of festivities and it was only toward the end that everyone would separate into their respective groups. That meant that once again he was forced into the same place as you.

The yacht sailed toward the private island the events would be at and as big as it was, he couldn’t escape you. There were the main group of friends that were always together and a few added guests, mostly Yeonwoo’s friends. Hoseok had already been hyping up the party tonight more than anything and everytime Namjoon would grow more worried. He didn’t need a big party thrown by his notorious womanizing friend.

“So what do the girls have planned?” Jungkook asked Namjoon as they sat at a table, looking at everyone aboard. Some people wore little clothing, others casual clothes, you wore something in between. It was casual yet attractive.

“ I don’t know, something probably calmer than what Hobi’s got for us,” Namjoon said but his friend had tuned him out after the first part, “Y/n planned it all and leant us the Yacht for the guests.”

“The yacht?” Jungkook asked, looking around at the luxury super yacht.

“14.7 million dollar yacht for Y/n’s birthday last year,” Namjoon explained to Jungkook, “She wanted a Booze Cruise.”

Jungkook couldn’t help but scoff, “So Y/n got a yacht?”

“It comes in handy, doesn’t it?” A soft voice spoke from behind him and his breath hitched. You looked over to Namjoon, “Yeonie is looking for you.”

“The wife calls,” Namjoon said with a cheesy smile as he left you two behind.

“So, are you ready to go party with Hobi tonight?” You asked with a laugh, “I heard he’s got some former Miss Universe models coming in.”

“Oh, fun,” Jungkook said, slightly sarcastic.

“Kook, you’re not old enough to not like partying with models,” You teased making him look over at you. For a moment he wondered if what you said had a double meaning considering you were a model but he didn’t want to speak up about it.

“I’m sorry, I’m not a party animal,” Jungkook said truthfully, only a hint of joking as he looked around at the packed floor, “I think even this is too much.”

“Wow, how could you be a former Socialite if you don’t like partying?” You asked, “Is it all that time in the jungle or desert you spent alone that changed you?”

Jungkook could hear the sarcasm in your tone but he knew it wasn’t in an offensive way. He had backpacked to a small village in Indonesia for a few weeks before leaving to Nevada or Dubai—and he hated that you knew it all. He enjoyed traveling alone and experiencing things alone; he doesn’t need parties with too loud of music or too many drunks. He’s like Namjoon, they want to celebrate with their small group of friends rather than a party full of strangers who don’t even know what the occasion is.

“It might’ve,” Jungkook said, clearing his throat and checked the time.

You didn’t say much else after that and he got the impression that you grew bored talking to him. He looked at you still waiting to see if you would say something else but instead, you just looked off into the distance, not bothering to hide the sudden boredom you must have felt.

He’s sure he could have found something else to say to you but it was no use when he could see you beginning to slip away when you looked down at your cellphone with a bright smile. You didn’t utter out a goodbye as you left him behind to answer your phone, “Chimmy, I’ve missed you. How’s Morocco?”

“Warm,” Jimin said, “I’ve just finished a shoot and I believe I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Oh I won’t be home, remember?” You said as the final thing Jungkook was able to hear from you before you walked away.

Jungkook couldn’t help but look after you, thinking about who might’ve called you and how things were handled and he had to be honest, he was curious. He wasn’t attracted to you but he found you attractive… He thought you were charming and charismatic but not enough for him to want you, maybe…

The two of you just seem so different. He’s seen as the Black Sheep of the group, not because he’s not wealthy or attractive but because his past decisions have apparently been awful ones.

He was never one for parties so he wasn’t wild and defiant. He did make a declaration to leave all the money behind and pursue his dreams—something rich people were not allowed to do. Especially not if you were next in line to inherit it all like Jungkook was.

You are more free than he is and yet you like being in your bubble. You like the glamor and the responsibilities because unlike him, you know how to play both sides. Do your parents care that you’re out wasted at European raves or sailing on your yacht with a foreign prince? No, why? Because you know how to act like the innocent, perfect princess you’re supposed to be.

Jungkook can’t pretend that well. He can’t hide his tattoos or piercings or signs of nonconformity.

So, yes, he finds you attractive but he can’t let himself fall for you when he thinks you’re too different from each other. It just doesn’t stop his brain from thinking about you though.

“Have you seen Y/n?” Jungkook asked Taehyung who had been sandwiched between two women he couldn’t name.

Taehyung, evidently drunk, shook his head no, “Are you ready to confess your undying love for her?”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, scoffing as he said, “Fuck off.”

All Taehyung did was laugh, making the girls he had his arms around laugh too and Jungkook left feeling annoyed. He was just curious to know where you were, that’s all. Namjoon and Yeonwoo are busy making their rounds, greeting and thanking everyone on the boat and his other friends were off doing their own things. He’s already spent too much time sulking by the railing, staring down at the dark blue water that he can’t take it anymore. He doesn’t want to drink to the point that he’s drunk so really, his last hope is you.

“Have you seen Y/n?” Jungkook asked as he went to the rooftop where Hoseok was sitting in a hot tub full of strangers. Hoseok looked like such an asshole [something Jungkook had permission to say] with his designer sunglasses and Vacheron Constantin watch, just barely above the water surface.

Hoseok barely glanced his way as he said, “I don’t know, check downstairs.”

That was all Jungkook needed to know before he was heading down to find you. It took a while of asking any person he passed by, where you might be and through all this, he couldn’t remember why he was looking for you in the first place.

He had no idea where he was going, he just found himself walking down what felt like endless corridors of rooms, following the directions of whatever housekeeper he could find. The boat really was big, and he couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that this was a simple birthday present.

“Now, who do we have here?” You looked down the empty hallway toward the man in front of you. It pained you to see just how attractive Jeon Jungkook really was.

You have to admit, he really knows how to dress for occasions. The rare times he’s photographed in some news article, he’s dressed casually, clearly trying to hide from the public eye but now that he’s back it seems his fashion has picked up. He wore a striped black flannel Dolce & Gabbana shirt tucked into cream colored slacks, and matching velvet black slippers from their newest collection.

“I’m just… wandering,” Jungkook cleared his throat, whatever excuse he had made up earlier, completely out of mind, “What happened to your dress?”

A large red stain adorned the front of your pink dress from the chest down your torso. You looked down at the stain with a roll of your eyes, “Some stupid bitch worker. She’s off the boat tomorrow.”

Jungkook widened his eyes, feeling you brush past him and down the hall, “So you’re firing someone for spilling a drink?”

“Um, this is Valento? Do you know how hard it is to get rid of a stain like this?” You asked with a slight scoff as you went to the door straight at the end, pushing your key card in to open it, “It took the dry cleaners ages last time.”

“I didn’t take you as an Outfit Repeater to be worrying about things like that,” he stopped at the door, already looking around at what was evidently the master cabin. The water out the windows was a dark, midnight blue and it reflected into the room of silver and gray. It had a walk-in closet, and king sized bed with a view of the open water and a private deck. He didn’t dare go in and put himself in personal quarters with you.

You gasped, stopping your movements of rummaging through your closet to say, “I am an environmentalist.”

He couldn’t tell if you were being serious or not and he had to fight back a grin at how un-woke you sounded considering you were ruining the planet with a private yacht of this size.

You pulled out an off-white dress, a Jaquemus piece, ‘La Robe Artichaut’, “Ugh, after this week, I am firing a lot of people.”

“What happened this time?” Jungkook asked, leaning against the doorframe watching you, waiting for you to kick him out but you just went toward the windows overlooking the dark blue ocean. As much as you claimed to not get along, you talked like old friends.

You reached your hands toward your back, attempting to undo the back of your dress on your own, “I told my assistant not to pack anything close to white and she packs this dress? I swear people can’t do anything right.”

“If people ask just say you’re supposed to match me,” Jungkook said referring to his slacks, “Yeonie won’t be mad her Maid of Honor is wearing off-white.”

“I guess,” you sighed, letting go of your dress and not bothering to look back at him as you said, “Undo the back.”

Jungkook stood silently at the door, staring at you with dark eyes. The fabric of your dress was thin and soft to the touch—he could just tell with the way your figure had so effortlessly shaped the dress. It is a real pity you had to change out of it, he’ll admit that, but now he’s been asked—no, demanded—to help you to take it off.

He has no idea why you think you could just boss him around but this seems to have always been the case. The two of you were never close in the past but the very few times you would run into each other… as much as he hated it, there was always some sort of tension there.

With your back to him, you hadn’t seen the way he silently made his way across the room, shutting the door behind him as he went right to you. You could sense his presence behind you, see his reflection in the dark window and feel his rough fingers brush against your back.

“I meant to tell you, I like your shoes,” You said casually, his fingers beginning to work the knot that tied the ribbon of your dress, “My friend wore them in Paris just a week ago.”

“Friend?” Jungkook raised a brow curiously, his eyes trained slowly on the ribbon he was ever so slowly pulling loose. His gaze shifted to your reflection in the window as he pulled a little rougher than earlier, “Is this the one you’re always running off on the phone with?”

“You mean Park Jimin?” You asked, not bothering to react at all to his roughness or his speed, “Yes, him.”

You could feel Jungkook’s deep exhale as he pulled it as loose as he could while still being appropriate, “Are you seeing him?”

A mischievous smile couldn’t help but make its way to your face as you turned to face him, holding your arms around yourself modestly, “Is that what you wanted to talk about all along? You could have asked me earlier instead of spending who knows how long looking for me.”

He had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself agreeing with you, and with a tense jaw he asked again, “Well, are you?”

“I’m going to get changed,” you motioned toward the door, telling him to leave, “Unless you want to help me with that too.”

A scoff left his lips as he took a step back, annoyed that you wouldn’t just answer his question and annoyed he even cared enough to ask. What did it matter to Jungkook if you took a date? He wasn’t in a relationship with you and he barely considered you a friend.

When he wasn’t here and he was traveling, he was perfectly fine not knowing a thing about you aside from whatever article or magazine you appeared in. Why now that he returns and he sees how… glamorously beautiful you are, is he curious about you?

“And just so we’re clear, no, I’m not seeing Jimin,” You told him as he walked toward the door, stopping midway to listen to you, “Because I know it would make you jealous.”

To be honest, you didn’t think he would actually be jealous, it’s just a joke. Something about you just gets under Jungkook’s skin and it wants you to push his buttons that much more. As obvious as it was that he wasn’t at all amused by your sweetness, it was your arrogant charm that seemed to get him every time.

You knew you were beautiful, you knew you had every right to be arrogant and as much as Jungkook could deny he’s attracted to you at all, it’s very noticeable. You’ve never been told no a day in your life. You’ve never been rejected either and you know Jungkook wouldn’t dare reject you if you actually went for it.

Despite how vocal he is about his distaste toward you, you can’t help but still get giddy in his presence. You just want to rile him up and know that he’s attainable to you. You’ve always had a thing for him, he was an absolute gorgeous man and he was wealthy, extremely wealthy. He was educated and had class but at the same time he was rugged and intimidating. You’ve seen the small glimpses of ink on his knuckles and you just know that under all his long sleeves, he had more to show.

Whether you felt seriously for him or if you just figured it’s a spur of the moment situation, you want him.

“Jealous?” Jungkook attempted to scoff but the word caught in his throat with some truth to it, “Why would I be jealous?”

“I don’t know,” You shrugged, sliding the strap of your down your shoulder, “Because then you would have to share my attention with someone else.”

Jungkook knows he should leave. You had asked him to leave yet you kept going back and forth, and it was stopping him from doing so.

He should go.

He needs to go before he does or say something he’ll regret.

If he caves in to your taunts then he’ll be disappointed in himself, like part of him was allowing his return to his old lifestyle of luxury and privilege.

“Y/n, you always say things you don’t know,” Jungkook asked you with a deep voice that had you smiling, practically feeling him give in. His gaze was dark and there was no hiding the growing tension, “And you must think you’re real cute trying to act out now that we’re alone.”

“No, I know I am,” you said, not backing away from the eye contact. “And you know it too.”

“I don’t,” Jungkook loomed over you, eyes tracing down the curve of your nose and to the slight part in your lips, “I think… I think you’re…”

You blinked up at him, “Well say it, or are you too busy thinking about kissing me?”

An annoyed huff left his lips as one of his hands pulled you toward him at your waist and the other tilted your chin up until his lips were grazing over yours. You reached toward him, making the first real press of your mouths together and there was no use in acting like he hadn’t been in fact thinking about kissing you.

Jungkook let his eyes fall shut as yours did and he pulled you closer into his chest with the hand on your jaw sliding down toward the curve of your neck, making sure you didn’t pull away just yet. You kept up with the pace he had set of slow yet hungry kisses, pulling on your lips or letting his tongue slide against yours tenderly.

“Well?” You gasped feeling his soft lips kiss along your jaw, his soft black hair brushing against your face, a light scent of his shampoo or cologne that left you feeling intoxicated. The hand he had on your waist tightened at your words, pulling away with a quiet grunt, he looked you in the eye.

“Don’t ask me any more questions,” Jungkook groaned, the taste of your lips still on his tongue and there was a light sheen of gloss coating his lips from yours.

It’s shameful for him to admit how easy it was for you to break him down into every other man who seems to fall at your feet when given the chance. This is exactly what he didn’t want and now he’s pulling the godforsaken stained dress he undid and watching it slip down your body, revealing your naked form to his hungry eyes.

Above your bedroom was a deck filled with people celebrating the soon-to-be newlyweds while the Best Man and Maid of Honor are in the master cabin, half undressed, and stumbling onto the bed.

Jungkook was gentle but firm, he wasted no time popping the buttons of his shirt open, exposing the toned muscles of his body and the ink covering most of his arm. Your eyes scanned the markings, surprise and wonder evident on your face with how well he managed to hide how much he’s gotten done since he left.

“Surprised?” Jungkook asked, eyes low when your hands ran over his slacks, pulling at his belt and nails lightly scratching at his abdomen. His voice dripped with arousal when you sat up from beneath him, pressing light butterfly kisses to his abs and tattoos.

“You always surprise me,” You admitted, not as teasing as before but with a hint of playfulness still there. You looked up from his chest, the height of your sitting form and his standing one looked endless as he towered over you. “For instance, I didn’t think it would be this easy to get you in my bed.”

You kissed along his neck now, sitting on your knees to reach him better and nipping at his sensitive spots. His hand tightened around the neck of your head, not pulling your hair but definitely getting your eyes on his, “Why do your words sound so dirty when you say them so… “

Jungkook couldn’t even finish his sentence before succumbing to you once more and kissing your lips. With little force applied, he was laying you back down on the bed with his tattooed and muscular body just melting into yours effortlessly. With one hand on your neck and the other sliding down to the curve of your thigh, it felt like he was all over you.

“Let’s take this off you,” Jungkook murmured between kisses down your neck as he began to finally take off the ruined dress that had been in his way since you got him to undo it in the first place, “You’ve been teasing me with this since earlier.”

“Maybe because I wanted to see you get worked up,” you sighed as you made yourself comfortable on the king side bed, your body slowly unveiled to his hungry eyes. Once he had pulled the dress off you completely and threw it to the side, sitting up between your spread legs and staring.

Jungkook didn’t bother with discreteness as he eyed down your naked body still in shock that he was seeing it before him. Your breasts were on full display and the only piece of fabric hiding you was a thin lace underwear that felt so nimble and soft under his fingertips, so easy for him to just tear off of you. You looked gorgeous laying so pliantly underneath him and he couldn’t help but let his hands slide down from your bent knees to your inner thighs.

“Did it work?” You asked just above a whisper as he hovered over you, leaving needy kisses between your breasts while he tugged at the hem of your panties until he was sliding them down your legs.

“It really fucking worked,” Jungkook groaned as he cupped your boobs in his hands, letting his tongue lick at your pert nipples and feeling the way they stiffened underneath him. Your hands went to his hair, legs nearly wrapping around his torso when you felt his teeth lightly press into your nipple, sucking and tugging when needed.

His kisses began to run down toward your navel with his hands replacing his lips and kneading your breasts in the palm of them while he moved down to lay between your legs, “I want a taste, pretty girl.”

“Then get one,” you said in a whiny tone that had his big rounded eyes turning to look at you with surprise. A knowing smirk falling on his lips as he lifted your knees and pulled your thighs apart as far as they could go until he was eye level with your pretty cunt. Jungkook was never one to stop and tease when he needed sex, he had a tendency to get a little rough and take what he wants but it’s so hard to move it along when he’s met with the sight of you laying so pretty for him. He could tell your patience was running thin with how long he was taking to do anything and just before he felt you close to snapping at him, he leaned into you.

“Oh fuck,” you gasped in surprise with the sudden swipe at your clit by Jungkook’a flattened, long tongue and you’ll admit it caused goosebumps to form on your skin. You couldn’t see the way he smiled as his hands circled around your thighs, repeating his teasing flick of his tongue, feeling the way your folds began to react to him.

He felt your fingers run through his soft hair for anchor and for some reason that slight grip you had on him had his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he let himself get lost in the taste of your pussy. No longer up for any sense of teasing, Jungkook lets his mouth fall open, kissing your wet heat with his tongue pressing between your folds and finding your clit. Your hips were slowly bucking into his face, showing him just how much you liked his tongue and he knew just what to do to have you coming undone underneath him.

He sucked your clit into his mouth, his lips wrapped around the hard bud while his tongue swiped against the tip of it. He began a repetition of that and grazing his teeth ever so softly against your sensitive folds knowing he found your weak spot when he sucked your labia into his mouth and had your soft moans filling the cabin.

“Jungkook,” you moaned softly, fingers tugging at his hair roughly, “Oh god.”

He didn’t dare pull his mouth off you to give you a response and instead let his actions grow rougher. He unwrapped a hand from around your thigh and slipped it down to your pussy where he let his finger begin to draw patterns into your labia, so close to your entrance that he could feel your arousal quite literally leak out of you.

Your body was filled by pleasure that Jungkook was bringing you and you couldn’t help but bring your free hand to your neglected chest, trying to fill the void that Jungkook’s hand had left as you groped your breasts. Jungkook looked up completely enamored with the way you played with yourself while he ate you out and without any second thoughts, he pressed his long middle finger into your waiting cunt.

“That’s it,” he whispered, pressing a light kiss along your pelvis, “Cum for me, darling.”

“Jungkook,” you whined as he pushed a second finger in, hooking them upwardward just past your pubic bone and finding that soft, spongy spot with ease. With the way your walls fluttered around his fingers, he knew you were close and all it took was his lips around your clit while thrusting into that pleasure spot of yours, for you to wrap your legs around his shoulders and shake with release, “Oh my god.”

“Mm,” Jungkook groaned with pleasure, feeling your arousal flood his fingers in your release. He looked down at his wet hand, bringing it to his lips where he licked off the release that threatened to drip down his forearm, “Sweet.”

You looked like a mess trying to catch your breath and come to understand what had just happened between you to think too long about the fact that he was pressing his fingers into your waiting mouth till you licked your own release off him. He lifted a brow as your tongue circled around his fingers while sucking on them with your cheeks hollowed in. It had his breath hitching, trying to pull his fingers back out before he came just from that and began to pull at his own pants.

“Condom?” He asked in an unusually low and raspy tone. You blinked, “It’s fine, I’m on the pill.”

He didn’t press for more as he kicked his slacks and briefs off, hard cock pointed up stiffly. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from it. You wanted to wrap your lips around him and take him deep in your mouth because his dick was surprisingly so fucking pretty you just needed it desperately.

With your mind decided, you attempted to sit up when he pushed you back down, cock in his hand as he gave himself a couple strokes to relieve some tension and pulled your legs apart, “I need you now.”

“Impatient, are we?” You asked with a laugh, making yourself relax when you felt his cock head brush against your exposed clit. Jungkook wasn’t paying attention to what you said as much as he was to the way his mushroom tip fit perfectly between your folds.

A soft gasp left your lips as he pushed it against your clit, playing with your labia and letting the clear liquid that dripped out of his tip, coat your clit.

“Fuck,” Jungkook took a deep breath as his cock nearly slipped inside of you, playing with your earlier release to cover his length in it, “Such a pretty pussy.”

With an annoyed roll of your eyes, you grew tired of his teasing and with a quick hook of your leg around his slim waist, you pushed his cock into you eliciting a deep groan [almost growl] to slip from his lips, “Fucking hell, Y/n.”

“You were taking too long,” you moaned, legs falling back again as you tried to ease the slight pain that came from his thick member entering your tight walls. Jungkook’s hair was brushing against your face as he looked down at the way you took him in, “I was trying to be gentle.”

“Did I ask you to be?” You asked with a scoff. Jungkook rolled his eyes, spreading his legs further apart and digging his knees into the bed for support as he covered you with his body, laying down to plant a quick kiss to your lips. “Brat.”

“Jeon Jungkook,” your manicured nails traced down his back until your hands were under his thighs as if ready to make him move on your own, “Are you going to fuck me yet?”

He couldn’t help but scoff in disbelief, an amused smile on his face and without saying a word, he pulled out until on his tip was past your ring of nerves, and suddenly pushed back in. Your lips fell open in a silent gasp as your eyes locked with his and he smirked.

“You need it that bad?” Jungkook asked as he pulled your legs up, pressing them toward your chest and holding them down with his arms as he kissed your neck, dragging his cock back out, “How bad?”

“Jungkook,” you groaned, trying to move your hips but in this position it was useless, “Start moving.”

“Make me,” he kissed the tip of your nose, slowly sliding himself back in just a little. You rolled your eyes, moving your hand to hide your face as you felt yourself getting annoyed.

Jungkook was smiling like this was all just so amusing to him and with his lip pulled between his teeth, he thrusted in with little restraint, starting a slow yet steady rhythm, “Don’t hide your face, darling. I wanna see the Y/n L/n moaning for me.”

“Fuck you,” you shook your head feeling your pussy tighten around him with your legs pulled to your chest unable to escape his thrusts that were becoming more rough by the second.

“Come on darling, you can do it,” Jungkook groaned, feeling like he was on cloud 9 from the way your pussy took him in. He doesn’t know how to explain it but he felt really fucking good right now. He’s not sure if it’s that he hasn’t had sex in a while, or if it had something to do with the fact that it was you, but he was fucking you with all his energy, letting himself relax and just feel good in the moment.

“Jungkook,” you moaned his name, hand slipping from your face so you could wrap it around his neck, “Kiss me.”

“Kiss?” He asked, out of breath as his rhythm faltered and without thinking, he let go of your legs and let them fall back onto the bed as he tilted your chin up with a hand to kiss you. He set his other hand down on the bed for support, getting lost between your lips and your tight pussy.

Jungkook’s tongue licked against yours swallowing your moans, “Y/n, it’s s’good.”

“Mhm,” you circled your legs around him, “Fuck.”

Jungkook kissed down your neck, hands sneaking down to your waist and with one swift movement, rolled onto his back with you on top. He needed a change of pace because if he kept going, he would cum sooner than he wanted to and he needed you to cum one more time for him so if that meant letting you get in top, he would.

And it had been such a good idea because the sight of you sitting on his cock, leaning back and placing your hands on his thighs instead of chest, made him more excited. Your knees dug into the bed and with your fingers scratching at his muscular thighs and raised your hips, lifting yourself off his cock before plunging him back in.

“Fucking hell,” Jungkook groaned throwing his head back into the pillows, a hand on your hip but not daring to take control, “That’s it darling, fuck yourself on my cock.”

“Jungkook,” the new position was having him reach newer parts inside you that had your thighs shaking, “I’m so close.”

“Take it,” Jungkook growled, holding you in place as he dug his feet into the mattress and began to fuck up into you, “Take my fucking dick, fuck.”

“Oh my god,” you fell forward, hands scratching at his chest, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten, “I—I can’t. Jungkook, baby, oh my—“

“Take it,” he groaned, grabbing your hips harshly and moving once again so he was on top, thrusting into you despite how hard it was getting to pull out of your tight walls, “Take it.”

“I—I,” your lips fell open in a loud cry, pinching his biceps for stability, and felt your walls come undone. For the second time in less than hour, your orgasm hit you hard. Jungkook released a string of grunts, feeling your pussy convulse around him and his cock was greeted with a flood of warmth that had his legs shaking, trying to support him but he couldn’t take it. He barely had time to slip out before he was letting go, his cum dribbling down to your thighs as he let out one final moan of your name.

His body seemed to collapse down next to yours, panting and out of breath, “Fuck.”

The two of you were a mess, sweaty and sore and all you wanted to do was lay down and possibly sleep but where you were did not go past you unnoticed. You searched around for your cellphone, knowing you set it down somewhere before trying to change and found it on your nightstand with six missed calls from the Bride-To-Be.

Jungkook took a deep breath, sitting up and looking down at the mess the two of you made on the bed. He got up, not bothering with covering himself up as he found a towel and tried cleaning himself off with it while you got on your phone.

“Duty calls,” you joked with a sigh as he came to your side and began to wipe down your thighs. Yeonwoo sent you a dozen messages talking about a midlife crisis of some sorts. You sat up carefully, thanking him for handing you your robe and you slipped it on.

“What happened?” Jungkook asked with an awkward clear of his throat as he began putting on his clothes again. He’ll admit he was taking his time getting dressed and you left to the bathroom to freshen up.

“I don’t know, something with the gift boxes for everyone. I think Yeonie’s assistant forgot them,” you told him as you found new underwear to wear, making sure you were cleaned before putting them on. You left the door to the bathroom open to talk to him but you still changed into the white Jacquemus dress from earlier.

You walked up to him and he got the memo about zipping your back up and this time he couldn’t help but lean down to press a kiss to your shoulder blade, “Are you going up yet?”

“I’m gonna touch up my makeup first,” you told him honestly, “You go ahead.”

When Jungkook reached upstairs again, finding the party just as he left it earlier, it’s like nobody noticed he had even left for so long. They were all too focused on your new dress — which Yeonwoo absolutely adored on you. He found a glass of champagne and tried to escape from the swarm of people trying to hold a conversation with him when he wasn’t thinking clearly at all.

Unfortunately for the two of you, the matching off-white shade of your clothing and the sudden mark on his neck wasn’t lost on anyone else. Soon, pictures from every angle possible would paint a story neither of you wanted.

There was a sense of guilt that came with disassociating yourself from your best friend’s wedding plans. Jungkook could barely remember what they had done once they got to the island after a surprising night of visiting your cabin.

He hasn’t had an actual conversation with you since that night and he has to be honest and say, he barely remembers the actual wedding. He hadn’t seen you since the yacht before being dragged away by Hoseok the following day to do some activities for Namjoon’s groomsmen. You had gone to do your Maid of Honor duties and he’s felt out-of-loop since.

The entire day had been packed with things to do and he’s aware he looked dashing in every photo the photographers took of him in his 12,000$ Kiton suit. The matching suits they all wore made the groomsmen look classy and cohesive while the Balmain dresses the bridesmaids wore made them elegant and surreal—well at least for you.

That’s what he thinks is the problem.

His best friends got married and yet all he was able to think about was you. It didn’t help that despite the wedding being on a private island, there was still press everywhere, capturing every angle of this beautiful matrimony between nepo babies.

The reception had been filled with various questions from various interviewers that left all your shared friends staring at you suspiciously—especially when questions of the hickey on his neck came forward.

As awful as it sounded considering the 46 million dollar wedding in the mountains of an island was stunning, he could barely remember half of what hadn’t been photographed. He left the day after the wedding with an excuse that he had things to take care of where he’s currently at and his friends bid him farewell.

He got to the mainland a day before the others and it gave him time to return home before he left on another voyage alone.

“How was the wedding?” His older brother asked, swinging his mallet just slightly, trying to find his nail before shooting the ball through the hoop, “I can't believe I was caught up in meetings all week in Tokyo.”

Jungkook looked oddly bright today compared to how he felt and he didn’t want to say it was because his casual and boring clothes he wore abroad stuck out here in ways he didn’t like. That’s why today—his last day home—he visited his family’s 150 acre estate for a game of Croquet and possibly tennis, wearing a matcha colored Loro Piana cashmere polo with short sleeves.

“Um, it was great,” Jungkook said as he brought his cigarette to his lips and lighting the end before inhaling.

“That’s it?” JungHyun asked with a scoff as he motioned for Jungkook to take his turn and he took his brother’s cigarette, “Did you have an orgy with any models or were you your usual gentleman self that won the crowd against me?”

His older brother had been well known in his younger days for many reasons, his partying, his charm, his youth and education. When he was in his mid twenties, you could always catch him in some article their parents tried taking down in regards to driving under the influence or insulting a server. Unlike Jungkook who preferred a quiet life he could escape to, his brother did not and now he’s some big shot finance guy because his attitude growing up had ruined his chance of inheriting everything from their grandparents. Now it will all go to Jungkook—something they’re all aware of—and maybe that’s why JungHyun makes snide remarks here and there.

He’s not asking about the wedding because he’s curious, he’s bitter that despite his perfect appearance and Jungkook’s more intimidating kind, Jungkook was still the most well-mannered of the two and therefore the favorite—if only he stayed and fulfilled his duties.

“No orgy,” Jungkook said with a hint of disgust as he finished his round of the game, one step closer to winning, “Just Y/n.”

JungHyun had been mid-swing when he mentioned you and his aim went astray making him miss the next ring, “What do you mean just Y/n?”

“I slept with her—“

A loud and annoying laugh cut him off as JungHyun let his mallet go, “Ah, so you can’t remember the events of your best friend’s wedding because you were too busy sleeping with the nation’s sweetheart? Oh I cannot wait till father hears about this, maybe your wedding is next and then you’ll finally step up to the plate.”

Jungkook scoffed, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means now that you’re back, and dating the richest girl in the country, there’s no way Father won’t hand you down the company now,” JungHyun said bitterly, “And everyone said you running away would be a bad thing, but clearly it’s reminded you of who you are.”

“I’m not… I’m not staying,” Jungkook said, “I leave tomorrow but I wanted to see you all. And Y/n and I aren’t going to date, it was a… um.”

“Mistake?” JungHyun asked, “Jungkook, don’t be an idiot. You’ve been obsessed with her for years.”

“I have not.”

“You have, you just don’t want to admit that all your talk about being independent and leaving the money behind to be free was complete bullshit,” JungHyun said with a scoff, “Or why would you mess around with her of all people. A relationship with Y/n is going to put you at the top once again and there’s nothing that won’t be handed to you—and she’s someone mother would approve.”

“You’re dramatic,” Jungkook huffed, “One night doesn’t mean we’re dating or getting married or any of that other shit. I still don’t want to run the business… I just want, I don’t know.”

“Yeah, you never know what you want,” JungHyun said, “But whatever, if you’re set on running away again, so be it. I’m tired of trying to make you see how you blindly follow along with everything you seem to hate.”

“Master, your wife is on line three and she’s wondering who is picking up the kids.”

“Fuck, I don’t know,” JungHyun groaned, annoyed and no longer interested in talking to his little brother, “The driver?”

Jungkook watched his brother leave him behind and with a defeated sigh, he left.

“So are you leaving?” Youngi asked him as he watched the bubbles in his pink champagne, “Or have you changed your mind?”

“I haven’t changed my mind,” Jungkook said stiffly as he fixed the suit jacket he was currently getting fit into, “I’m just postponing my leave but I have a few things to take care of here.”

“Like with you and Y/n?” Youngi asked, making sure the fitting room at Dolce & Gabbana was empty aside from just them two. Jungkook didn’t even flinch at the mention of you. Since the two arrived at this store his vision has been filled with large framed photos of you and your dear friend Park Jimin all over the store. Apparently you were one of the brand’s favorite Ambassadors and they made it known you modeled their products. Right now he’s facing the mirror with a picture of you modeling a satin baldonétte bra and high waisted panties. You looked beautiful and seductive and its been hard for him to not just stare at all your pictures since he got here. Now Yoongi is attempting to bring you up and he refuses to give in to the extent his relationship with you has gone.

You haven’t even spoken since the wedding and even that had just been an exchange of pleasantries and no real depth to either of your words.

“No, with my father,” Jungkook said stiffly as he shrugged off the suit jacket and called in the stylist to find something else. Yoongi sat up in his seat slightly more interested, “Really? About what? Don’t tell me you're back in the running.”

“We're going to discuss it,” Jungkook mumbled to himself.

He wanted to make one thing clear, his decision to seek out his father and work out some sort of plan where he can get back into the job he had been assigned to do, while also having freedom had absolutely nothing to do with you. It has nothing to do with the fact that you’re here, and he’s interested in you, and that it would be his parent’s dream for him to stay and be in a relationship with you and also take over the business finally…

This was his decision because his brother’s right. He can't just keep running away.

“And what do you mean, with Y/n?” Jungkook asked, clearing his throat awkwardly as he glanced up at your five foot photo framed above the mirror, remembering the shape of your body against his, moaning his name and tightening your walls around him.

“Haven’t you heard the rumors?” Youngi asked as he got on his phone, “It seems as though you have competition.”

Jungkook didn’t need to be told more as he took Yoongi’s phone from his outstretched hand and read what was on the screen with furrowed brows.

At the end of the article, in big, fat letters, the conclusion said: ‘Now the question is, will L/n choose the best friend, Park Jimin, or the elegant and influential Best Man, Jeon Jungkook—possibly as the country’s newest IT couple?’

When he gave Yoongi his phone back, there was no denying the sudden irritation that contorted his features. It’s not like he expected this to not happen but… he doesn’t like what they’re implying. Yoongi studied him closely to see if he would get a response, but Jungkook gave nothing away. Instead he just ordered the tailor to pack the two suits he tried on so he could buy both, “I’ll meet you out there.”

Yoongi left Jungkook to get changed and while he stood alone in the fitting room staring up at your boudoir photos framed around him, he took his phone and dialed your number.

“Hello?” Your end of the call sounded hectic, louder and busier than his did. You were in the middle of an interview for Vogue and were taking a short break. It seemed like he called at just the right time since you were getting your makeup touched up.

“Are you busy?” Jungkook asked with a sharp tone that fell on deaf ears when the call went silent for a moment. He really did admire the photo of you, remembering just what it was like to trace his hands along your figure.

“Who is this?” You finally asked, making his jaw clench slightly.

“Jeon Jungkook.”

“Oh you see, I wouldn’t have known that considering you didn’t even say a hello or anything,” You told him in a sarcastic tone that made him want to smile but also roll his eyes, “Besides, I am busy.”

As if on cue, the call of your name in the background made your claim concrete. He bit his lip in thought, wondering what it was you were doing and how long it would take, “When can I see you?”

A smile played on your lips as you held up a finger to your assistant who was trying to hurry you along, “Did you make an appointment with my assistant?”

He couldn’t help but scoff as his gaze turned toward a glare, practically imagining that picture of you smiling at him, “I didn’t know I needed one, darling. When can I schedule one?”

“I’m not sure, i'll let you know,” you said and before Jungkook could respond, the call ended and he was left in shock that you just hung up on him. He gathered his things and met Yoongi outside to pay, completely bewildered by the fact that you just hung up on him so easily. He knows you haven’t spoken since the night of the wedding where you were forced to speak but this is all he gets?

“What took you so long?” Yoongi asked as they left Dolce & Gabbana with new things.

xxx-xxx-xxxx: Appointment scheduled for, 6:30 pm today, L/n Residence @ the Northbrook Estates

Jungkook couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief at the confirmation of an appointed meeting with you tonight.

The night on the yacht had been unexpected yet also long-awaited and now that its done with, neither of you seemed to know what to do about it. You wont lie and say you didn’t enjoy that moment with him but you were also realistic. You and Jungkook would just never work out, you’re too different on the outside and that’s why you’re so confused now as to why he called you.

“So, Y/n, its been a busy season for you this year,” an interviewer said as the camera zoomed in on your expression as they continued, “Not only did you walk thirteen shows but I hear you also celebrated your close friends wedding. How was that? You must have been exhausted.”

“You know it was a lot but it was exciting, I hold my friends dearly and I’m just thankful I was able to make time for such an event,” you said and you’ll admit your response sounded scripted. You didn’t dive too deeply which is what you’re sure the interviewer wanted. You should have known that this stupid interview wouldn’t just be about your newly established modeling career.

Whether you’ve become Model of the Year for your catwalk, or for nepotism, you didn’t are much either way. All you cared about was the fact that the interviewer has found a way to slip in questions they didn’t need to know. It’s like you can just sense the things they’ll ask and have already prepared and calculated the exact responses you need to give.

“Of course, and what a star-studded party,” the interviewer continued, “The Best Man being Jeon Jungkook must have been exciting for you.”

“Well, we’ve all known each other for a long time now so…” You cleared your throat, looking a bit disinterested.

“Yes, of course,” the interviewer said with a nervous laugh, “And pardon me, Y/n, but I just have to ask, did anything happen between the two of you on this very intimate trip?”

Your smile strained but you never looked anything less than sweet as you said, “We are all just very close friends. Most of them have supported me in modeling.”

It was a clear attempt on your part to direct the conversation back to what it was supposed to be about. She ignored your last comment and said, “So… I guess we’re all curious, some pictures from the parties were released of the two of you awfully close in certain open waters, and an evident hickey on his neck—not to mention the matching clothes, please, is there something between you and the heir of Jeon Corporation?”

“Nothing that should concern you, no,” you smiled sweetly and the interviewer seemed to freeze up, unsure if she had gone too far in her questions.

Silence filled the space around them and there was no way to cut these parts out since it was a video shoot and after a while of the interviewer struggling to find which questions to ask, a person who worked for you stepped forward, “How about another short break?”

The interviewer released a shaky breath while the both of you made your way off camera and your glam team was quick to touch up your hair and makeup as the director of the shoot approached you, “Y/n darling, how are we feeling?”

“Annoyed,” you answered honestly, “I thought this was supposed to be about my modeling.”

“You’re absolutely right, darling, we apologize for any mistake we’ve done on our part, I—She must have taken it as an opportunity to ask her own questions and I promise you, we will have a deep conversation about this. We aren’t TMZ…” the director said and you rolled your eyes.

“I’m done filming if she’ll be the one continuing the interview,” You told him as you began to walk away from him, not caring for the excuses or whatever and you can hear your publicist repeat your words to him.

It wasn’t even that she was bad at her job or that she asked anything too deep but she just quickly got on your bad side with her persistence to not let the subject drop.

In the end you got your wish and filming ended smoothly before you were driven away to whatever was next in your schedule, trying not to think about the interview or the fact that there was a chance you would be seeing Jungkook later.

Things are evidently strange between you two and its not like you’ve been blind to the articles or posts about you but you don’t want to address anything. That night on the yacht seems like a fluke and like it shouldn’t have happened at all despite how you felt in the moment. Your parents aren’t the type to be invested in what is put in the tabloids but when their lifelong, country club going, friends call them and ask if there’s anything between you and Jeon Corporation’s Jungkook, they’re going to want answers.

It was just one night, one night where the two of you put aside whatever indifference you had toward each other just so you could release tension and this is the consequence for that. Of course everyone would want to know and of course no one was able to turn a blind eye to you. Even Yeonwoo managed to ask what you had been doing in the cabins withJungkook or so long that night and even when you tried to ignore her she kept pressing you for an answer.

In truth you had nothing to say. You were both adults and it didn’t matter if anyone else was dying to know if there was anything going on between you.

You resented each other.

You had sex.

Plus, he’s going to leave soon and you don’t think that bothers you?

When your driver pulled up to the tall skyscraper you called home, you headed inside alone.

“Good evening, Miss L/n,” the lobbyist held the door open for you, “You have a visitor waiting in the lobby.”

Your brows furrowed, checking the time before heading to the library where sure enough, Jeon Jungkook was sitting by the fireplace reading whatever magazine was set out for him. At the sound of your Miu Miu kitten heels, he turned staring at you with his big rounded eyes being the only thing you could see beside his face mask, “You’re early.”

Jungkook wrapped an arm around your waist as he pressed his lips to your cheek in greeting and you did the same, he joined you in the elevator and said, “I like to get to my appointments early.”

“You’re lucky my shoot ended early or else you might have had to wait outside like a dog,” you teased as you pushed the button for the top floor where your penthouse was located. As part of the infinite amount of wealth your family has, you also dabble in real estate, mostly in the country as luxury apartments but you do have some homes overseas: Paris, New York, Argentina, etc.

The place you call home is a top floor penthouse with terrace and rooftop. The floor in which it was located was completely shut off for just you and included a private gym, yoga studio, three walk-in closets, and on top of that an elevator parking garage with a Mary Kay Pink Rolls Royce sitting pretty inside it.

Jungkook has never stepped foot in your home before and it was overwhelmingly stunning with four bedrooms, two living rooms (one on the top floor and one on the main floor too), an open kitchen, poolside terrace, and five bathrooms. You lived in ultimate modern luxury with traditional themes throughout the home like its hand carved wooden furniture and expensive marble walls.

“Is this different from your little magic treehouse in the woods you ran off to?” You asked, tempted to push his buttons as you removed your coat and handed it to your housekeeper who waited at the door.

“Well, considering my magic treehouse is worth 2.6 million dollars, no I wouldn’t consider this that different from it,” Jungkook couldn’t help but boast, feeling like he’s competing. It’s like when he was in school and the students would brag about whatever exotic trip they got to go in the summer and he would have to make sure to tell them what he did was better. “Maybe I’ll bring you with someday.”

Fuck. Why did he say that? Why is he indulging in any of this in the first place? You and Jungkook should never be together, right?

“Speaking of which, I thought you would have ran off now that the wedding is over,” You said as you mumbled something to the housekeeper making her leave, “Drink?”

“Water is fine,” Jungkook said as he made his way down to your 70’s inspired talking pit of suede Anabei sectional couches, “And I thought I would have been gone by now too”

“What changed?” You skied curiously, “Don’t tell me it's because you would miss me.”

You held your hand to your chest as if to seem touched by the thought and Jungkook just rolled his eyes as you continued, “How would all the other girls feel knowing I’m keeping you here?”

Jungkook scoffed as he practically pushed your legs off his lap, “Can you not joke for just one second?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, even if part of you felt confused wondering if this was supposed to be a serious moment or not. Jungkook huffed, running his fingers through his black hair, “I’m here because I wanted to talk to you about all those articles. My parents are working on taking those down, are you okay?”

Your eyebrows knitted together with confusion, “Me? Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because I’ve never seen anything bad written about you and suddenly you’re being painted as a two-timer by spending a night with me while also… doing whatever it is you do with that friend of yours.” He was not jealous. He swears.

To be clear, there really is nothing going on with you and Jimin. You’re just two friends in the modeling world who happen to like attending secret parties together and maybe making out drunkenly every now and then. That’s it. You’ve never slept with him and Jimin has too many girls on his line for you to ever consider him.

“I’ll survive,” You mumbled as you looked over at him, seeing him in deep thought.

“I’m thinking of staying a while longer,” Jungkook said suddenly with a clear of his throat.

Jungkook was not the shy type and to be honest he’s not even sure why he’s letting you know [as if it made a difference] but the words just slipped out.

He did not like you.

Well, he didn’t like you like that. It sounds harsh he’s well aware of that but he was never romantically attracted to you before so how is he going to suddenly feel that way after only a week in contact again. Maybe it was just unresolved sexual tension after years of feeling that way but that can’t be the only thing that’s making him want to revert back to what his life was like before he left to live on his own.

He escaped all this so that he could live somewhere quietly and do what he really wanted to do without worrying about anything else. Now he’s contemplating moving back and possibly involving himself with his father’s business again. Too much is going on for him to understand why.

“For how long?” you asked as your fingers began to softly run through the ends of his hair making him look at you. You couldn’t hide your curiosity and how close the two of you are.

When he had pulled you down to sit with him, it was with your legs thrown over his lap which he had been caressing every now and then.

An arrogant smirk formed on his lips as he licked them, tapping your calf lightly, “How long do you want me here?”

Fuck, Jungkook is staying to get back in business… not for you.

It’s not for you.

It’s not for yo—

His breath hitched as a sudden weight shifted to his lap, his hands immediately went to your waist, helping you get comfortable on him. It’s embarrassing the way Jungkook didn’t hesitate to reach for you when you sat on his lap feeling your arms thrown around his neck, “Here as in…”

You looked down at the short skirt you wore which rolled up a little from how your legs straddled his thighs and said, “Under me?”

A scoff in disbelief left his lips as he couldn’t help but laugh, sliding your hips closer, “Yeah.”

It was attractive the way your conversations never seemed to fall unless you wanted them to. It was a constant cat and mouse game, banter back and forth and he catches on quickly.

You couldn’t help it, okay. Anytime you would see pictures of Jungkook since he left, he was always in a hoodie and sweats or something that just hid his entire body. Right now he’s wearing this Christian Dior white button-up shirt [which he rolled the sleeves up at some point since he got here] and it was messily untucking from his black slacks and he looks so hot right now. His hair was messy in a sexy way and he looked just like he used to, except this time with tattoos and a different sense of maturity.

Without wasting another moment debating if you should or shouldn’t, you leaned down and kissed him. Jungkook’s lips parted against yours, stretching his neck to kiss you with more need. Unlike the first night you kissed, this one wasn’t as rushed and angry. He took his time longer, pulling your bottom lip between his and doing it over again.

You pressed your chest against his, with your tongue swiping against his lip teasingly until you met his. Jungkook’s hands pinched the satin fabric of your skirt, feeling it tighten and rise, unable to stop the growing desire he was feeling for you. His briefs were getting tighter every time you shifted on his lap and whatever he had been thinking before you started making out.

“You want to play?” He asked, shifting his head to deepen the kiss without bumping noses. You pulled away feeling desperate to catch your breath as his kisses began to travel down toward your exposed neck, licking and nipping under your jaw while beginning to make

“Maybe,” you sighed in pleasure, running your hands through his hair when you felt him kiss down your collarbone, closer and closer down the deep-v in your Miu Miu chiffon top. The strap to your shirt slipped down your shoulder as Jungkook’s rough fingers traced down the side of your arms.

You cupped his face in your hands, forcing him to go back to kiss your lips as you felt his growing erection press into you. It was hard for him to ignore the fact that the only thing covering what was under your skirt was a flimsy, thin piece of lace he shifted you closer until his bulge was tucked between your legs, placing your hips right over where he wanted them to be. Now that he moved you, his outline was more evident and had you grinding along him.

Jungkook released a groan with a sharp breath once he felt that sudden move and he couldn’t help but buck his hips against you, feeling the fabric of his briefs constrict his hardened cock. It was a frustrating feeling yet he felt so eager with his tongue down your throat and his covered dick tucked nicely between your covered folds that he couldn’t even think to stop and remove the layers.

His lips were feeling swollen against yours yet he didn’t want to pull away, the friction he was getting from the way you humped him was turning him on with how needy it felt. You kissed along his jaw, grinding against his aching dick while your nimble fingers began to unbutton his shirt.

“God damn,” Jungkook groaned as he threw his head back, relishing in the way your hips moved expertly against him while kissing down his naked chest. He slid his ass down your back, stopping over your butt and pulling your skirt out of the way for him to get a better feel of you underneath. With firm hands, he turned your sensual grinding into harsher and more deep movements that he met with his hips.

He’s not sure he could take just this any longer. Anytime he’s with you now it’s like he can’t do anything but fall for you and despite how annoying it is, he doesn’t do anything to stop it. Instead, he welcomes it and right now all he wants to do and rip off the remaining layers between you so he could have your legs wrapped around him once more. It’s only been days since the first time and he has not been able to stop thinking about it.

The day of the wedding he had been so distracted by you that he barely remembers any of it and now his best friends are on their honeymoon and he’s here thinking about you again.

Giving up on arguing how much he wants to have you, he wanted to get your clothes off and you were letting him. His hands had barely made it to the end of your top, ready to pull it off, when a loud ringtone cut through the living room, echoing off the walls and hard to ignore. The two of you looked at each other confused.

He sat up, reaching his hand into his pocket and pulling out his phone, annoyed that someone had thought to call him.

“Answer,” you said breathlessly as you looked at the caller, already sliding yourself off his lap.

“It’s just Hobi,” Jungkook said, letting out a huff in annoyance as he set his phone back down, turning to kiss you but it rang once again. Your eyes met his and he begrudgingly grabbed his phone and swiped to answer, “Hello?”

“Hey man, I just got off the phone with your Yoongi,” Hoseok said as he sat in a large closet filled with designer clothes, “And why am I always the last to know if you’re leaving or not?”

“What?” Jungkook looked visibly annoyed with his scrunched brows and tense jaw and for some reason that made him hotter to you. His shirt was undone completely and his belt was halfway pulled off and with his legs spread, it was very hard to ignore his hard on.

Your eyes softened with curiosity and you couldn’t help but bite down on your bottom lip as you decided to just go for it. First, your hand rested on his thigh as he listened to whatever Hoseok said, but slowly you made your way toward his bulge.

“You’re gonna start working with your dad again?” Hoseok asked, unaware of the way Jungkook’s attention had drifted down to the palm of your hand, right over his dick. Your fingers pressed against the underside of his member, massaging your palm into it and feeling the way his hips raised. “What happened to not caring about the money and the company and all that blah blah blah?”

Jungkook couldn’t help but roll his eyes, snapping back to his friend instead of what was going on. His fingers wrapped around your wrist, tightening their grip as if in warning. It was a useless attempt considering he tried helping you pull his belt off and saying, “Come on man, it was never like that.”

He could hear his own tone falter somewhere between lying and having his cock free from the confines of his tight briefs with your hand feeling him.

Hoseok laughed, debating what suit he should wear, “No, it’s exactly like that.”

Jungkook’s hand went to your head, softly caressing you as you kissed down his navel, your hand wet with spit, jerking him off while licking just above his dick. He didn’t bother with a response to his friend as he continued speaking anyway, “Is it true you and our princess are messing around? It’s all over the tabloids.”

Sarcasm was evident in Hoseok’s tone but Jungkook was too focused on your tongue licking up the length of his hard cock, wetting it with spit that made your hand movements smoother.

“Look I get it, you’ve had all this tension something was bound to happen but damn, why didn’t you tell me that either?” Hoseok asked with evident shock, unaware of the blowjob his friend was receiving on the other end. Your lips were wrapped tightly around his length and with your hand too, it was hard for Jungkook to keep his reactions to a minimum.

“Hobi, I—I, yknow I just,” Jungkook cleared his throat uncomfortably to hide an evident groan. He was beginning to fidget under your ministrations, especially when you squeezed under his cock, massaging his balls, “Sorry.”

“Sorry?! That’s all you gotta say after chewing me out for giving you condoms as a joke.” Hoseok was lying in a pile of Louis Vuitton suits on the floor, engrossed in his one-sided conversation, “Our friendship seems one-sided buddy. I thought when you came up to me… I thought, ‘Hey, maybe my good buddy Jungkook will get in this dandy hot tub with me’ but no, you know what you do instead? You ask where Y/n is! God I should’ve known—“

Jungkook threw his head back in a mixture of pleasure and obvious irritation that he couldn’t take it anymore. His finger pressed into the red button and the call was cut to end suddenly. As soon as his phone hit the couch, you pulled off his length with a deep huff for air, “That wasn’t very nice of you.”

“He’ll get over it,” Jungkook mumbled as he reached for your hand to pull you toward him, “Come here.”

“I’m not done,” you leaned away from the kiss he was trying to give you but his hand held your head in place, not caring to kiss the lips that had just been around his hard dick. Jungkook wasn’t as gentle as his need grew heavier and with a strategic pull at your top, it ripped down the back, “Jungkook!”

“What?” He asked with a giddy smile, tempted to be playful, “It was in my way.”

You rolled your eyes, sitting up to take your skirt off yourself and prevent another hazard while Jungkook finished undressing himself. “It was custom, asshole.”

Jungkook’s smile dropped with worry, lips parted in surprise until you burst out into a laugh and fell onto his lap, “You should see the look on your face.”

“Ha ha, don’t scare me like that,” Jungkook chuckled, “I was already thinking about the fortune I would have to pay to fix that.”

“Jungkook,” you ignored the fact that the two of you were naked, in the middle of an intimate moment and asked, “What did you mean earlier?”

“When?” Jungkook asked, caressing your leg, “About staying? Yeah, I’m serious.”

“You are?” You crossed your arms over your bare chest, “Why?”

“Why?” He was visibly taken back, “What do you mean why?”

“I mean… just a few days ago you were adamant on leaving right after the wedding and when you left the resort before everyone else we all kind of figured you had left but you’re here now and…” You took a deep breath in thought.

“Do you want me to leave?” Jungkook asked, sounding more hurt than he intended to. All this time pushing and pulling his feelings for how he felt about being here and seeing you was getting to him. He’s very aware how confusing he is and spending a night with you shouldn’t have changed his mind this quickly while he also refused to admit.

“We didn’t talk about what happened at the party,” you said suddenly, feeling Jungkook drape his shirt over your naked figure as the conversation shifted drastically.

“I know,” he dropped his head, “I’m sorry, I was really confused and I couldn’t tell what I was feeling or how you were feeling and I was mad and… I thought you probably didn’t care.”

“I mean, I didn’t,” you shrugged, “But because I figured it was just a one time thing since you were very obvious with how little you thought of me and now you’re saying you’re staying longer while visiting me at home and it just… I don’t get it.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Jungkook was in his slacks again, trying to fix whatever mess he might have made over time, “I just… I was just being dumb. I wanted to act like I wasn’t into you at all because I was mad at everyone else and it wasn’t fair that I took it out on you but I thought you didn’t like me either.”

“And you’re right, you were mean to me,” you nudged him with your foot, “So really, I shouldn’t even be in this position with you right now.”

Jungkook didn’t dare argue when you called him out, “You always pretended to hate me even when you’d get jealous if someone else talked to me and you could never take your eyes off me.”

His brows furrowed, reminded of the trip and how everyone always joked that he wanted you when he was so stubborn on saying he didn’t. He didn’t like how predictable his life was.

“Because I knew everyone thought you were perfect,” Jungkook tried pulling you toward him, “And they didn’t know how you liked to push my buttons and say things you knew would get to my head and how you were actually so unbelievably perfect that it pissed me off everytime I let you get to me.”

“Don’t sweet talk me now,” you teased when he leaned over to lay between your legs, content with the sight of you in his Dior shirt, “How are you gonna repay me for being such a dick?”

“Whatever you want,” Jungkook admitted, “Say the word and I’ll give you whatever you want.”

“I have everything I want,” you ran your fingers through his hair.

“Come on Y/n, don’t make this hard on me,” he whined playfully, “Everyone else is already making it hard and I just want to spend the night with you. I’ll let you use me.”

Your brow raised and with a soft laugh you pulled him toward you for a kiss, “I get to use the Jeon Jungkook? What will everyone say?”

“That they saw it coming,” Jungkook chuckled as he pressed his lips to yours, “So don’t stop the inevitable.”

You rolled your eyes, feeling your arousal from earlier slowly make its return, “You’re so spoiled.”

“I know.”

Jeon Jungkook now knows what an awful liar he’s been these last couple of years. All of this talk about wanting to be different, break free from his family’s influences and the world of money and power, was meaningless in the end. He tried, he really did but his rebellion of running off and doing whatever he pleased, refusing to acknowledge the company, the wealth and the people in it was short lived because he never actually wanted to escape it.

He was still going to be friends with the people he grew up with and fall back to his old routine of country clubs and parading on yachts or private islands.

He was still going to take over his share of his father’s company and dress himself up in designer Kiton suits that he used to despise wearing.

He was still going to fall for you, the person he despised simply for being an exact reflection of himself. You were perfect for him in every way on paper and that made him want to push you away but in the end, he still fell for you like he knew he would.

Some people dream about having the life he does, or growing up the way he did and yet here he was selfishly wishing it all away. It was perfect, it was so insanely perfect and unfair that Jungkook ever thought he wouldn’t be happy with what he had been handed down to him for simply being born.

“This person gathered valuable experiences in the world and has shown such a strong will to portray it all into commitment for the company and that makes me a proud father,” A deep voice spoke from behind a podium with an echoing mic that had the attention of over a hundred people, “Please, welcome the newest V.P. for Jeon Corporation, my youngest son, Jeon Jungkook.”

Jungkook had an arrogant smile on his lips as he walked onto stage, thanking everyone for congratulating him on his quick and easy advance in the company—even surpassing his older brother.

“Honestly, it is a big thank you to everyone close to me, for helping me see how ready I am to step into this role and fulfill my duty as a member of this corporation,” Jungkook said confidently, looking at all his friends who had a mixture of confused yet knowing smiles on their faces.

“What a brat,” Hoseok joked with Namjoon, “And I blame you for this.”

“Yeah, I’ve never seen someone get pulled back into the country’s good graces so easily,” Namjoon laughed, remembering all the articles about how my ridiculous Jungkook was for publicly stating he would never be a part of the company.

“That’s because he’s spoiled,” Jungkook’s older brother chimed in, “Even after he says he’s gonna walk away from it, he’s still gonna be welcomed back with open arms.”

Taehyung released a playful sigh, “I want to be Jeon Jungkook when I grow up, the perfect life just handed to me and I’m just too blind to appreciate it.”

“Tae, you’re rich,” Yeonwoo whispered to him, Taehyung grinning at her reminder and sitting up straighter.

“How was it?” Jungkook asked his friends as he looked around the table.

“Well rehearsed,” Taehyung gave him the thumbs up, “Also, where’s Y/n? I thought she’d be here.”

Jungkook checked the time on his watch, his leg already bouncing underneath the table, “Yeah, I thought so too.”

It shouldn’t be that big of a deal to him. This was all just some flashy way for his father to make Jungkook’s debut in the business widely anticipated and you had other things to do than be here. The two of you aren’t even officially together yet so it’s not like you owe it to him or anything.

“Y/n,” Jimin whined as he watched the valet open the limo door for you, “Please don’t ditch me. I’m your best friend, imagine how much fun we could be having. Everyone’s going to ask where you ran off to after the dinner.”

“Well you can tell them,” you hurried to finish applying your lip gloss, “That I had more important things to do than get drunk at some fashion party.”

“Right, just throw me to the side like I mean nothing,” Jimin said dramatically, “Is this how you treat friends now?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, knowing he was only trying to cause a scene. Jimin knew you would be calling it an early night but he just wanted it to be difficult. With a small sigh, you double checked that you looked fine in the mirror and said, “Okay, wish me luck, I’m hoping I get laid tonight.”

“I also hope you get laid tonight so that I don’t have to listen to you talk about how much you want to see him,” Jimin said as you made your way out the car, “Goodnight.”

By the time you got to the banquet, the cameras had been long gone from the entrance and so you were able to make your appearance quietly. You would have been here earlier if there hadn’t been an ambassador dinner tonight that you had already agreed to do before Jungkook decided on staying and you just couldn’t miss it.

You felt bad because Jungkook had asked you to come be his date but he understood why you couldn’t make it right away. If anything he should be happy that you hurried over from dinner to the banquet without an outfit change. Despite the number of attendants, it was really a private affair with only a couple people from the press but nothing too grand and over the top. It made arriving late less miserable and finding Jungkook and your friends much easier.

And when you first involved yourself with Jungkook in this way, you should have known it wouldn’t all be easy. You were now somewhat seeing the most eligible bachelor in the country and nobody knows about it aside from speculation. Speculation won’t stop spoiled rich girls who want him to themselves and that’s what you saw when you found him.

“It’s so great to have you back Kooky, it’s like… the best thing to ever happen,” some girl gushed at him from the once empty seat to his left. She seemed unaffected by the stares she received from around the table and didn’t care at all that Jungkook wasn’t even glancing her way. He doesn’t know her, she’s probably just the daughter of some wealthy couple who thinks she has a chance with him.

Jungkook stared forward, watching his friends’ faces as their eyes softened, no longer listening to the girl who said, “Maybe we can get together some time.”

A gentle hand touched his shoulder, soft lips brushing against his ear as you said, “Maybe we can get together some time too.”

There was no denying the smile that grew on his face as he turned to look at you and how close you were to him. Jungkook’s lips parted in pleasant surprise, ready to talk to you when someone else spoke up.

“Excuse us, sweetheart,” Namjoon said to the girl, “It seems our table is full, maybe you can try somewhere else?”

She left with an annoyed scoff, making room for you to sit down, “Sorry I’m late, did any of you miss me?”

You had a sweet smile on your face, a camera clicked somewhere else in the distance surely capturing how close you were to Jungkook specifically, who was tracing his hand along your thigh.

“Dearly,” Jungkook said as he leaned into you for a quick kiss on the lips, “Thanks for coming.”

“I told you I’d try and make it,” you said to him, “I missed the speech didn’t I?”

“It was nothing special,” Jungkook’s hand began to slide down the space between your legs—or at least as far as your dress would let it, “Just the usual talk about how amazing I am, it was all very boring.”

“But I love talking about you,” Your tone was sarcastic yet flirty, your hand falling over his in warning when he began to pull up your dress just a little. You were sitting at a table with a large draped tablecloth that hid your legs underneath but you were still very aware of the fact that your friends were all around the table.

“Y/n,” Hoseok called for you from across the table, “How does it feel to have the Jeon Jungkook wrapped around your finger?”

Jungkook turned to his friend with a harsh glare, knowing he was just poking fun at it all but still managing to get under his skin. You looked at Jungkook with a knowing grin, “Like nothing I didn’t expect.”

He scoffed, squeezing your thigh possessively, “I think the feelings are mutual, darling.”

You leaned into him, not caring for being around so many important people with cameras trying to capture whatever moment they can, “They are.”

::.

a/n omg it took me literally forever to write this and idk how I feel about it but yknow what 😭it’s finished and that’s what matters. I was in the mood for some rich kdrama feel fic and I hope I managed to pull that off at least a litttlleeeeeeere

thanks for everyone that waited patiently and please feel free to lmk what you think <3

permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog @cherrymonlightt @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover @saweetspoiled @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802faves @skzthinker @unnatae @beautywine @lilliankoo @annenakamura @lesoleile @burnahtsw @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @whoa-jo @marvelbun @sunnikthv @kochycooky @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi @jaerisdiction @watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @dream-cvtcher @jksjx @kissyfacekoo @joyjunk @caro134340lina @hyunjinswifeee @oldermenluverrr @caro134340lina @olivialeesstuff [taglist is too long so I’ll have to make two versions of it]

[thehauntedetheral]

Yan Sugar Daddy

Requests are open!

• You were a broke college student even after doing part time job. You wanted to earn more money so asked your friends for suggestions.

• One friend of yours suggested to get a sugar daddy from website. You were a bit scared as you have no idea and experience about this but after much convincing from your friend you made an account on the app.

• After scrolling a bit you thought It's very unlikely for any sugar daddy to show interest in you when the website was filled with drop dead gorgeous sugar babies available. You felt insecure and deleted the app forgetting to delete your account.

• You continued your college and part time job. Forgotten about your account still being active.

• While Yan Sugar Daddy scrolled through the app and your account caught his attention especially your photo. He thought you were beautiful and so simple. He sent you many messages on app but no reply. He would check the app many times a day in hope of seeing your reply. After many days passed and nothing from you he decided it's time to finally meet you in person.

• He got details about you through his mens. Your address, your college schedule, your part time job location, your birth place, your date of birth, your zodiac sign, your favourite ice cream flavour everything. This man made sure his team didn't leave anything.

• And hence here he is waiting for you at your college campus radiating money, power and glory through his work suit, and handsome face. Hell even the watch he is wearing is of the cost of your years of salary you thought.

•"Ms y/n?" He approached you while you were just stood like a statue there mouth open. How come this man is here you thought. You remember seeing his profile in a blur on app before deleting.

"Close your mouth, love. Or people might think I said something offensive to you" he said chuckling looking at your expression.

Seeing your uncomfortable expressions he offered to talk to you over a lunch in a nearby restaurant rather than in your college campus. You accepted it not wanting to create any gossip at college.

You both wear sitting in a fine dining one of the most expensive restaurant in city whose reservations are hard to get even for some elites. By saying a near by restaurant you thought about some local restaurant near your college campus not this. But nevermind it's his money not yours. His money his choice you thought.

• He explained how he wants to be your sugar daddy. When you didn't reply his next sentence was "I can double the weekly allowance if you want". But you still didn't accepted it. You told him how the account and everything was a mistake and that he should find some one else you explained and left. You were scared about this whole relationship even though you needed money.

• You left the place but not his mind. He would send you expensive flowers with notes, perfumes, wines of old collection to your address in hope of you accepting. He never got a no as answer. And he will make sure to convert your no to yes. no matter what it takes.

• What in the fifty shades of grey Christan grey the fuck is happening? You thought while continuously getting gifts from him.

• He even paid your college fees in advance for upcoming years.

• By all the constant stuff he was doing you finally said yes and signed a contract with him.

• You entered his world.

• Yan is definitely dominant and rough in sheets.

• Would tie you up, blindfolded you,pull your hair, overstimulate you until you are a begging, crying mess.

• Is kinky. Would put a vibrator in your cunt and control the speed via remote kept in his pocket while you both are dining outside. Enjoying seeing you trying to control your moans.

• Is very protective of you. Someone tried to flirt with you? Would definitely make his security team beat him up till they are unconscious.

• You liked him while this man was crazy in love with you.

• Would spoil you with gifts, jewellery, dresses, perfumes, flowers, dates, vacations, handbags, shoes anything you want. Hell even his black card is with you most of the time because he says so.

• Kisses you any chance he gets.

• Makes you move into his penthouse so that he could spend more time with you.

• Carriers you in his arms whenever you are drunk afraid that you will fall with your high heels.

• Helps in wearing your heels.

• Is a gentleman in public and an freak in sheets.

• You looked at something for too long during shopping next day it's getting delivered to you. ( This man is god level rich and doesn't even think about the cost when it comes to you)

• You always wanted to go to paris? Well let's go darling his private jet is ready.

• This man is utterly whipped for you. Would do anything for you.

• You came into this arrangement to pay off your college and since your graduation is near and so is the contract expiry.

• You decided to part ways after graduation and contract expiration. When you tell him about your decision. He is absolutely devasted. Did he not love you enough? You are his everything. How could you even think about leaving him??

• This man has hired a professional proposal planner to propose you to be his wife and you are thinking about parting ways? Good joke baby. Good joke. But this is not gonna happen. The only way you are leaving this contract is with your last name changed to his and your finger bearing his engagement ring.

• And even if you rejected the proposal despite all of it he can trap you with him by his baby he thought with an evil smirk.

Requests are open!

For more yandere reading:

[itsthewritergal]

don't tell Bucky - B.Barnes x reader

Summary: Reader is broke and refuses to tell mob!bucky the extend of it

TW: fluff, happy ending, little swears, mention of money, getting fired, (think that's everything)

ENJOY!!

:)

Y/N was used to the biting cold in her apartment, it had been a long few months with her hours being cut down and bills piling up she was in debt. Badly. She had started cutting costs where possible, heating was the first to go, she had opted for  not turning the heating on despite the freezing temperatures outside, food was the second thing to go, she had starting making meals stretch and eating less and slowly things seemed a little more manageable. The bills continued to pile up, yet things seemed a little easier. Every single penny was put to the side to clear her debt. She had been seeing Bucky as much as possible but she couldn’t talk to him about it, he would just offer to pay her debt off and then she’d owe him for almost the rest of her life. She couldn’t ask him. She wouldn’t. Bucky had picked her up from work, it was a surprise, and something Y/N was grateful for as she wouldn’t have to pay for the bus home. 

“Do you want to stay at mine tonight?” Bucky asked gently pressing a kiss to her cheek as they finished their heavy make-out session in the car 

“I’ve got work in the morning,” She said softly, breath slipping through her lips 

“Call in sick” Bucky said between kisses “You can go without one shift can’t you?” Bucky asked 

“We’re short staffed Buck, I need to be there” She lied easily, 

“Let me come in? I just want to hold you tonight” He said softly pressing another kiss to her lips. Y/N nodded in agreement, how could she ever say no to an offer like that? 

Bucky followed Y/N up the stairs to her apartment, she unlocked the door and was met by an icy breeze. Bucky shuddered. 

“Why is it so cold baby? Your heating broken?” He asked 

“Hmm?” Y/N asked turning around to face him 

“Your apartment Y/N, it’s cold” 

“Oh, sorry Buck I turned the heating off” 

“For good?” Bucky asked closing the door behind him “Or is it broken?” He asked

“Oh, no I just turned it off whilst I was at work” Y/N said softly, 

“Why would you do that?” Bucky asked again pulling Y/N into an embrace 

“It was just while I went to work Buck”

“That’s not safe doll, you should keep the heating on so you don’t get ill, even when you’re not home. You need to come into a warm house” Bucky said, Y/N resisted the urge to cry. 

“I usually do Bucky, it was just a one off” she said. 

Bucky didn’t mention the heating again that night. Y/N was grateful for that small mercy. What he did mention was the mountain of blankets that sat on her bed. 

“Doll?” He called from her bedroom 

“Yeah?” She replied coming into the bedroom, her eyes falling on Bucky’s metal hand clasping three blankets, 

“You coming down with something?” He asked “I can call Banner to come and check on you if you want?” 

“Oh Buck, no I’m ok. Just get cold when you’re not here” She said, it wasn’t a complete lie, just a small one. It made her feel a little better. 

“You know you could just move in with me?” Bucky offered 

“Don’t be silly Bucky, we’ve spoken about this” She said and Bucky stopped himself from starting an argument by pressing his lips to hers. 

— — — 

The next few weeks were tricky. Y/N had started picking up more shifts than she could count which lessened her time to do anything; most of all see Bucky. 

When one fateful day put Y/N’s life into a tailspin, 

“Y/N could you come into my office when you get a moment please?” Her boss’s voice cut through the noise, and Y/N felt a panic run through her body, 

“I’ll come now” She said quickly, hurrying behind the shorter lady, “is everything ok?” 

“Take a seat Y/N” She said, Y/N knew this wasn’t good, she never asked her to take a seat before, this had got to be bad news. 

“Have I done something wrong?” 

“No, Y/N you’re one of the best workers we have here” She said taking a deep breath “but we can’t afford to keep you on, with prices and wages going up we’re cutting down to less staff members and well it’s only fair that we let you go first. You’ve got enough experience to get another job quickly whereas the others don’t” 

“You mean the others are cheaper because they are younger?” Y/N said noticing the true meaning behind her words. 

“That isn’t what we are doing Y/N” her boss spoke halfheartedly 

“When do I leave?” Y/N asked dejectedly, knowing it was a loosing battle 

“Today’s your last shift, you are let go without holiday pay or leave notice” She said passing Y/N an envelope “All the necessary documents are in here, please hand your keys in at the end of the shift” 

“No need to wait” Y/N said, pulling her work keys out her bag and putting them on the desk. Picking up the envelope, Y/N walked out. 

The walk home was a cold one, not only because of the biting wind but Y/N felt empty, numb, like she’d just been caught in the rain. She wanted to call Bucky, but after her neglect of him she knew that he was probably mad at her and calling him to cry would not be the best way to go. However, her ringtone cut Y/N’s moping thoughts short, 

“Hello?” 

“Doll, oh thank god. Steve just told me he passed you on the street, he’s turning around to pick you up so don’t go anywhere. What’s happened?” Bucky asked 

“Nothing Buck, I’ll talk to you later, tell Steve not to worry” 

“No, he’s picking you up and you can come here or go home then come here, or just head home if that’s what you want but I’d rather Steve did it than you walk yourself doll okay?” He said 

“It’s going to happened whatever I say right?” Y/N chuckled halfheartedly, the lack of reply on Bucky’s end confirmed it “I’ll wait for Steve” 

“Good girl, I’ll see you soon” He said ending the call quickly. 

As if on cue Steve’s car pulled into view, 

“Hey Y/N, Buck’s waiting for you” He said opening the door for her, 

“Thanks Steve” 

After a few quiet minutes Y/N answered the question which was burning in Steve's mind, 

“I got fired” She said quietly, 

“They did what? Oh Buck won’t be happy, how dare they” Steve said forcefully, 

“They can’t afford me apparently” Y/N chuckled sadly 

“Bullshit” 

“Promise you won’t tell Bucky?” She asked 

“I won’t lie to him if he asks” Steve said “But I’ll divert attention so he doesn’t ask” Steve agreed quietly 

— — — — — 

Y/N had avoided Bucky for another two weeks, she hadn’t meant to. But she had been sending CV’s, babysitting, dog walking and selling small handmade bits online. Anything possible to make some money, she was yet to receive an interview or even any interest. It seemed that everyone was full of employees or was hiring younger staff, there was no place for Y/N. 

She had been dodging her landlord phone calls, and the electricity company and even a few others who she knew were angry that she hadn’t paid. Stretching her legs out wide on the floor she took a minute away from her laptop screen and picked up her phone. 

“I’m on my way, be there in 15” Bucky had texted around 15 minutes ago, Y/N let out a panicked sigh and started picking up the mess around her to try and make herself look presentable for Bucky, she had to keep up appearances. 

“Doll?” Bucky called through her apartment, 

“In here” She replied quickly shoving some dirty clothes at the bottom of her wardrobe, 

“Hey doll” He said softly pulling her in for a kiss, not seeming to notice her dishevelled state. 

“Hey Bucky” she pressed a kiss to his lips, something she had missed dearly. 

“I need to talk to you” Bucky said pulling her down to sit on the bed, she sat down with his hands gripped in hers as if he was about to disappear. 

“I know I’ve been awful Buck, I haven’t spoken to you and I’ve avoided you, please don’t be mad, I’ve just been so stressed and—”

Bucky quickly cut her off “I’m not breaking up with you Y/N” 

“You’re not?” 

“No, doll I’m not” 

“Oh” 

“I know what’s going on Y/N” he said sincerely 

“Nothing’s going on” 

“Doll I know” 

“Bucky nothing is going on”

“You got fired, you’ve been trying to find another job, you’ve been dog walking, which I’m not happy with because that’s dangerous when you don’t know the dog or the owner, and you’ve been selling your adorably little crochet animals online” Bucky said 

“You got someone to follow me” 

“You started shutting me out” Bucky justified 

“Fair enough” 

“Did I miss anything?” Bucky asked 

“No” Y/N said her eyes welling up with tears, she let go on Bucky’s hand to hide her face in them, 

“Oh doll, come here” Bucky said wrapping his arms around her, letting her cry all her stresses and troubles away onto his shirt, he knew once she had cried they would be able to talk through options properly. 

“I’m sorry” Y/N said with a sniffle 

“Can I finish what I was saying earlier?” Bucky asked, Y/N nodded silently “I’ve paid off all your debts, I did the landlord, electricity, water and that loan you took out, you can pay me back if you want to if you have the money, if not it’s my birthday present to you I know you won’t accept it any other way” He said 

“Bucky please”

“It’s already done” 

“I should be able to do this better,I  should be able to pay my fucking bills” 

“No” Bucky said calmly 

“No?” 

“No you’re not doing that. You are doing as best as you can. And I refuse to listen to that shit. Now put on a nice dress, we’re going out to eat” 

— — — — 

That night when Bucky and Y/N were laying in bed cuddled up to each other, Y/N decided to be brave 

“Bucky?” 

“Yes doll?” 

“Do you think I could move in with you?” She asked pressing a kiss to his chest “I don’t think I want to do this alone anymore” 

“Doll, I’d be delighted” 

[readwritealldayallnight]

Learning

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Reader

wc: 1k words

warnings/tags: fluff

“Said it would’ve made too much of a mess. Waste o’ his money.” Simon says, slopping another spoonful of pumpkin guts into the large bowl in the middle of the kitchen table. Your usual table cloth has been switched out with an array of this weeks newspaper, the black and white print covered in the sticky remnants of your idea of fun on a Friday before Halloween.

“Not even one?” You attempt to pose the question casually, hoping to disguise the sadness in your tone, concealing the way your heart breaks at the thought of a young Simon Riley having never carved a pumpkin, his father not even allowing him to partake in that simple tradition so many others enjoy.

“S’alright, lovie.” He says, seeing right through you and recognizing the hurt you hold for him, an indication of your longing to only see love and joy in his life. If only you knew that’s everything you give him. “Did watch a mate o’ mine shoot his pellet gun at some pumpkins one year, if that makes you feel any better.”

You roll your eyes at his attempt to make you laugh, digging your spoon a little harder into the sides of your own gourd as if it were the one to have wronged you.

“Well then I’m glad I ignored you and got them anyways.” You declare, giving each pumpkin a loving little pat on its side. Simon had told you outside the grocery store, seeing your eyes land on the bright orange displays outside the shop, that they weren’t necessary.

But the both of you knew he would never deny you anything you wanted, and so he ended up carrying the two large pumpkins under each bicep and to the car himself, not letting you lift a finger.

“How’s the inside of yours looking?” You ask him, coming around to his side of the table, affectionately running a hand through the strands of hair at the base of his skull, glancing into the pumpkin he tilts in your direction for you to see. You can feel a shiver go through him at your touch, a soft sigh leaving his lips.

You’re glad he’s home with you, where he can relax, allow his biggest stresses to be his girlfriend ogling his arms as he carved open the tops of pumpkins and gutted them with efficiency.

“You’d have to tell me, love, but I think that’s as empty as it’s gettin’.” He emphasizes by tapping his spoon on the side of the sphere, listening to the dull, hollow echo it gives.

“Looks perfect. Nice work, Simon.” You tell him, planting a quick kiss to his cheek before hopping back over to your seat, leaving him looking a few shades redder than before. “Know what you’re gonna carve?”

“It’s- it’s just a face, innit?” At your question, Simon finds himself pausing. He might have had a different childhood than most, but he wasn’t daft, he knew what a jack o lantern was supposed to look like. Carved eyes, a wicked grin or large frown, sometimes even a nose in between them both.

He didn’t consider himself to be a crafty person, but he’d been a butcher for crying out loud, he could carve some shapes into a pumpkin until it resembled a face, no problem. So why are you asking him about what he’s going to carve.

“Well yeah, that’s the go to, for sure. A classic.” You reassure him, noticing the slight tension returning to his shoulders. “You can carve a face, my love. Some people just do different, they get creative with it.” Shrugging, you grab the marker you’d set aside, beginning to map out the lines for where you plan on carving your own design. You’re distracted, eyes darting between your sketching and your phone where you’ve got the inspiration photo pulled up for reference.

You don’t notice Simon’s eyes squinting ever so slightly at you before darting to the pumpkin in front of him. ‘Get creative with it’? Is that what you’re doing? Is that what you’re expecting him to do? Hoping he’ll do? He glances over at you again and notices you’ve got a bloody reference photo and everything??

He finds his cheeks beginning to burn for a different reason now, feeling stupid over not realizing you could carve more than the standard jack o lantern faces as a tradition. Obviously, you can carve anything you want into a fuckin’ pumpkin, he just didn’t know, he hasn’t done this before, and now he’s gone from feeling almost confident to worried he’s about to make a fool out of himself over something as childish as this.

“Simon.” You say, always more in tune with him than he realizes. “It’s okay, carve anything you want. I’m excited to see what you make.” You smile warmly at him across the table, a small socked foot going to nudge his ankle as well. “Believe it or not, this is supposed to be fun.”

He scoffs at your joke but doesn’t fight the smile that etches onto his face in return. He accepts your distraction when you ask if you should put on some music in the background, walking towards the record player. As he flips through the stack of vinyls, he thinks about just that, what he could possibly carve into that bloody orange sphere sat on his kitchen table, that would be fun.

Searching through any memories he considers as being ‘fun’, he finds a common factor: you. And there’s one more reoccurring element sewn into the fabric of those treasured memories as well: your laughter.

With that in mind, it’s actually quite easy for Simon to decide on what he’ll do finally. And almost an hour later, after you’ve put your blood, sweat and tears into your own pumpkin carving and deciding that the results ended up being just meh, Simon has decided that he’s undeniably the winner of the evening when he spins his creation around and has you nearly crying with laughter, insisting between wheezed breaths that he’s going to make you pee your pants, only leading to Simon’s own laughter bellowing out.

Not too bad for his first time learning.

~~~~~~~~~~

(The kind of pumpkin I’ve decided Ghost would carve 😂)

[navybrat817]

Feel the Pulse Beat: Intro

Pairing: Old Money!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: Bucky didn't want to go to Tony's club, but he'll be glad he did by the end of the night.

Word Count: Almost 2.3k

Warnings: Swearing, frenemy behavior, family issues, bit of world building, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?)

A/N: Oh, look, lovelies! A new AU no one asked for. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

“Why am I even here?” Bucky asked, eying the neon sign for Extremis. The one and only Tony Stark owned the club. A mix of people in clothes that ranged from expensive suits to revealing dresses stood in line with the hopes of getting in. “Because I have a car I could be working on as we speak.”

He could fit in at clubs, but he’d take greasing up his hands over dressing up any day. With cars, he didn’t have to pretend to be anything other than himself. There was no need to impress people who didn’t care about him beyond his name or fortune.

Steve, his best friend, sighed. “Because we promised Tony we’d show up. He’s our friend.”

“You promised, not me. He’s more your friend than mine and he acts like I wronged him in another life or something,” Bucky said. Tony didn't outright hate him, but didn’t seem to care for him and loved to give him a hard time. “I doubt he’ll notice if I skip this.”

“He will notice and he’s not that bad,” Steve said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I swear, between Tony and Sam, it’s like you go out of your way to not be friends with our friends.”

Bucky didn’t comment on Sam for the time being. “Not that bad? Tony has the biggest ego in the city. I’m surprised he didn’t call the place 'Anthony’s' or plaster his name all over the building,” he said, tilting his head. “Given the outside, it wouldn't surprise me if the inside was just as bad.”

Steve snorted, used to his humor after all these years. “You’re in a mood,” he said. Bucky didn’t deny it. “Let me guess: another argument with your dad?”

Bucky hesitated. “What else is new?” He wished he could clock the guy, but he was his old man.

George Barnes couldn’t wrap his mind around why his son preferred cars to the boardroom and networking. Or why he chose to “destroy” his body with tattoos. Or why he wasn't dating an elitist. It was like he couldn’t stand that Bucky wasn't just another version of him. Thank God for his mom who encouraged him to forge his own path and respected his choices.

And, yes, she occasionally allowed him access to the family funds if he wanted or needed them because she adored him.

“I'm sorry,” Steve said, clapping him on the shoulder.

They had grown up together, which meant they either witnessed or heard the ups and downs of their families. Steve wasn’t just his best friend, he was like a brother to him. He knew how his dad could get. And his dad was a good man most days, but he could also be a real pain in the ass.

“Don’t be. Not your fault,” he replied, looking at the sign again. “Never is.”

“It may not be my fault, but it doesn't mean I don’t care,” he said. He was lucky to have a friend like him. “Come on.”

Bucky felt eyes on them as they bypassed the line and approached the man at the door. Even if their names weren't on the list, the confidence he and his best friend carried would've been enough to pique the security’s curiosity. They also had enough money in their pockets to not necessarily flaunt their wealth, but to show that they had it. The same applied to their suits.

“Steve Rogers,” his best friend stated with just the right touch of pride. It was a fine line to walk between confidence and arrogance and he did it well. “And Bucky Barnes.”

“You’re on the list, but those aren’t the names the boss gave me and he won't let you in without them,” he said, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

“Aww, that’s too bad.” Bucky shrugged. It was the kind of shit Tony liked to pull and he wasn't in the mood to play. “Let’s go, punk.”

Steve held out an arm to stop him. “Just wait, jerk,” he said, shaking his head as he looked at the bouncer. “Golden Boy and Tinman?”

The bouncer to his credit looked thoroughly unimpressed instead of amused when he stepped aside to let them in. Bucky grit his teeth anyway, anger coursing through his veins. “That fucking-”

“Hey. It’s just Tony being Tony.” Steve trying to placate him wasn't working. “It’s better than Cyborg, right?”

Tinman. Cyborg. Tony tried to say the nicknames were because his left sleeve looked like a metal arm, but the man said in passing once that he was cold. Heartless. Just because Bucky didn’t show his emotions to people he didn't care for didn’t mean he didn’t have them.

“Tony being Tony doesn’t give him a pass to be a dick, Golden Boy,” he said, holding up a finger. “One hour. You get one fucking hour.”

“Please, don’t call me that,” Steve begged. The man with a heart of gold to match his hair and a pair of fists ready to strike for anyone who needed defending. Everyone in their circle looked to him as a man who always tried to do the right thing. “And fine. One hour.”

As they walked further into the club, vibrant energy surrounded them. Red and yellow lights cast a warm glow to create a welcoming ambience, while plush seats and sleek decor added a touch of glamor and sultriness. The bar, illuminated and inviting, beckoned patrons to select their drinks. The music was perfectly balanced, not too loud or overwhelming, allowing for easy conversation amidst the lively atmosphere.

Bucky didn’t want to give Tony too much credit and make his head swell more, but it was a nice place.

“So, where are we sitting?” He asked.

As if on cue, a woman in a smart black dress approached. Not a single hair out of place. “Pepper, good to see you,” Steve smiled at her. Bucky recognized her now. Tony’s personal assistant, had been for years. She did her job well and the man’s schedule and life would fall apart if he didn’t have her around.

“Good to see you, too. And you two are the first to arrive,” she smiled. “Right this way, please.”

Bucky looked around again as Pepper led them to a quiet VIP area flanked by a couple of guards. The space was just as bright as the main room, but above the center table hung a large, modern crystal chandelier: a focal point that hinted at the Stark fortune. The small stage set up at the back of the room surprised him. Was it for performers or merely for show?

“About time you showed up,” a voice interrupted his thoughts. Tony Stark, the man himself, sat in the middle of a sofa with a glass of whiskey in hand. With his three piece suit and perfectly trimmed dark goatee, he looked very much like the king of one of his many castles. Even had on a pair of his signature sunglasses because who didn't like wearing sunglasses indoors? “Or did it take you old men a while to figure out the names? Told Sy not to let you in without them.”

An apologetic look crossed Pepper’s face. “For the record, I told him not to do that,” she said, gesturing for them to sit. Bucky opted to sit in a chair that he didn't want to admit was extremely comfortable. “But he never listens to me.”

“You still love me,” Tony called after her as she left the area. “No hard feelings about the nicknames, right? It’s all in good fun.”

Bucky huffed as Steve took a seat beside Tony, effectively dividing them. “First the nicknames, and now you call us old men? You look older than we do,” Bucky said, pointing to Tony’s hair. “In fact, I think I see some gray you missed on your dye job.”

As Bucky got older, he had come to love the gray in his own beard and hair. It was a good look. Maybe the right girl would appreciate it.

Tony rolled his eyes. “Barnes. Always a pleasure.”

“Stark,” he said, baring his teeth in a wolfish grin. “Never a pleasure.”

“Cut it out,” Steve chastised, giving Bucky an exasperated look, which only earned him a shrug in response. Did he expect him to play nice when he didn't want to be there? “Tony, the place looks great.”

“Of course it does, Rogers. Did you expect anything less? Though it’s always nice to get a compliment from you.” Tony set his drink down and tapped the screen of his phone, causing the red and yellow lights to switch to blue and white. “That’s your cue, Barnes.”

“Nice lights,” he mumbled, leaning his chin on his hand. One hour…

Tony scoffed. “Would it kill you to give a real compliment, or are you holding back because I own it?”

Bucky narrowed his eyes. “Does my opinion even matter? You already think it’s perfect. I’m sure everyone else has kissed your ass about it, and I don’t feel like chapping my lips.”

Tony sat up straighter. “If I really wanted my ass kissed, I’d call your little sister,” he sneered, nudging Steve’s arm. “She’s free, right?”

“Tony, stop.” Steve warned when Bucky's jaw clenched.

“What?” Tony smirked more. “I heard she just got out of a relationship and maybe I can help her get over that broken heart.”

Bucky almost got out of his seat. Becca was a sweetheart and Tony didn't deserve to breathe the same air as her. “You even think about touching her, I’ll break your fucking-”

“Hey! That’s enough.” Steve sounded pissed off enough that they shut up. “Tony, he’s not trying to be a dick. He just wanted to work on a car tonight. Doesn't mean you need to bring his sister into it,” Steve said to Tony in a calmer tone, giving Bucky another look. “And you know he wouldn't fool around with Becca. You’re letting your fight with your dad get to you.”

Bucky slowly exhaled. “I know.” He felt a pinch of guilt. He had let his dad sour his mood and dismissed Tony’s club when Tony was at least nice enough to extend an invitation. It also wasn't fair to make Steve play referee when he deserved a fun night. “And I think we’re all varying degrees of dicks here.”

Unexpected respect and understanding filled Tony’s eyes, replacing his usual disdain. “Rather tinker with something than hang out here? I get it. And asshole fathers, I get that, too,” he said, downing the remainder of his glass. Bucky had nearly forgotten that Tony had issues with his own dad. “But let’s be serious, we all know I’m the biggest dick here.”

That brought a chuckle out of all three of them. It was the closest thing to an apology. “I would drink to that if I had one,” Bucky joked.

Tony tapped the screen of his phone again in a short pattern and the middle of the table rose up to reveal a decanter and empty glasses. “Top shelf and on the house even though you can afford it.”

“We’re still going to tip. You can give it to the staff working tonight,” Steve offered, pouring each of them a glass and passing one over. “And now that we’ve gotten some of the unpleasantness out of the way, can we get on with the evening? Please?”

The men nodded, but Bucky still needed more than one stiff drink to get him through the hour. At least Tony brought out the good stuff for them to indulge. “I have to ask, where are the rest of your friends?” He expected the VIP section to be overflowing with his usual crowd instead of being nearly empty.

“On their way,” Tony said, waving a hand toward the stage. “I wanted you two to get a private show with my new star because I have a feeling you’ll appreciate her talent more than the others. And when I say this one is special, I mean it. Voice and body of an angel. Or a siren. Whatever you’re into.”

Bucky and Steve exchanged a look. A new star? That was why he wanted them to stop by? “Have you slept with her?” Steve asked pointedly. Bucky almost asked the same question. Tony had a reputation for a reason and being a member of his staff wouldn’t stop him from trying.

“Nope. Not this one. Not for lack of trying,” Tony said, checking the time before the lights dimmed. “She told me to ‘kindly fuck off’ when I hit on her and I gave her a raise because why the hell not?”

Bucky’s eyebrows shot up. “She turned you down? I like her already,” He smirked, instantly intrigued by this mystery woman who didn't fall for Tony’s charms like so many others. “I may even have to buy her a drink.”

“Just wait ‘til you hear her sing, Tinman,” Tony said, resting back against the sofa. “Even you will love her.”

A spotlight illuminated the stage when soft music began to play. The curtain opened wide enough for a stunning figure in a long red dress to step through. Bucky leaned forward in his chair, captivated by your beauty. His heart raced, and his throat went dry as your gaze met his. He tightened his grip on the glass, nearly downing it in one gulp as you moved toward the microphone, but couldn't look away as you smiled.

Where the hell did Tony find someone so enchanting?

Bucky waited with bated breath before you began to sing. One note. That was all it took. He was lost. Gone.

Yours.

Oh, I just had to end the intro there. 😇 I wonder what our reader is like and what she'll think of Bucky. @targaryenvampireslayer @yenzys-lucky-charm @ghotifishreads @tavners @holacia3 a certain edit may come into play later... 😏 Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[darnell-la]

Sub! Logan would be so fucking hot. And the way you write him is soo good! I'd love to see your ideas about how he would act as a sub.

note: we rushed this BUT we have more. better ones coming soon!

follow our Instagram @ darnell.la so we can start posting random videos, photos, edits, and memes of the people we write about!

———

��Going to pearls,” a woman spoke as she got into his car. “What’s your name?” He asked to confirm. “Y/n,” she said. The man turned around, realizing that this young lady was alone.

Usually, he picks up a huge group. That’s why he has a limousine, but she’s alone and has no one on her guest list.

“You gonna drive, handsome?” Y/n asked. Logan quickly turned back around and began driving. He was surprised by the nickname, but he let it go. He’s been called everything by now.

Logan’s been driving for ten minutes, music low, and y/n looking out the window. He’s never felt this awkwardness because it wasn’t him and only one person in the car.

“So — Friends busy?” He asked. Y/n slowly turned her head, looking at the man in the mirror. “All canceled. As always,” she added before she looked back out of the window.

“Oh,” he said, feeling a bit bad. He could see she paid one hundred for every hour tonight, and he would be with her for six hours.

“I mean, I can talk to my job, probably give you a refund or somethin,” he said, feeling like he should help her in some way. Usually, the man couldn’t care less, but y/n’s a young woman going to a club alone.

“I’ll be fine — Guess all the drinks I bought will be for me,” she said in a low voice that pained Logan to hear. She seemed sweet, and her friends canceled out on her. All of them.

“What was this for? Like, tonight? What did you have planned for tonight?” He kept a conversation going which confused y/n. His profile says he preferred not to talk and that he wouldn’t talk first.

“Well, it’s kind of my birthday, so — Yeah,” y/n sighed. “Oh, well — Happy birthday?” He said, not knowing if it was appropriate. The woman giggled to herself at his attempt to make her feel better.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna drink? I’ve got plenty and I can’t leave with any bottles,” she said, pointing to the bottles on the table, all hard liquor and only one juice for a mixture.

“I kind of have to drive you back home,” Logan turned down her offer, which he’d never done before. “C’mon! It’s my birthday,” she smiled at the man as she raised a bottle for him to take.

Logan waved her off, wanting to be responsible and think about her life that could be at stake, but he still felt bad about the empty spaces on the couches.

“Fine, but only if you don’t report me,” he joked, making her laugh as she took a bottle herself. “Cheers to me and my only friend who showed up which is the bodyguard,” she raised her drink.

“Cheers,” the man chuckled before raising the drink to his lips. He watched the girl drink, thinking it would be a small amount like any young lady, but her — She had almost chugged half the bottle.

“Woah, bub — Don’t hurt yourself,” he said, making her roll her eyes playfully. “Oh, don’t be mad because I can drink more than you,” she said, wanting to have some kind of fun tonight. Getting her bodyguard drunk and then driving her home sounds like a fun story to tell.

“Trust me, y/n — You can’t,” he said, but y/n didn’t believe him. That was until he shrugged his shoulders and chugged the whole bottle. The expression across her face was stunned. She’s never seen anything like that before.

“What the fuck,” she whispered. “Yeah — Kinda my power,” he chuckled. The man turned around to start his job and stood outside of her closed section until she spoke.

“Wait! I-I’m kind of alone so I don’t mind if you — stay? Please, I kind of feel like shit,” she admitted. She told her friends she was completely fine about their cancellation, but she’s not. She lost a lot of money and her mood was talk.

Logan couldn’t turn the offer down just like the last, so he stayed. The two drank all night, finishing every last bottle. She even got him to dance with her which he wouldn’t have done with anyone else. He had no idea what’s gotten into him tonight.

“God, tonight was fun,” y/n said as the man turned the corner where her apartment was. “Yeah, it was,” Logan smiled as he took a quick look at the young lady who was now sitting in the passenger seat, body turned towards him.

“You don’t understand how much I appreciate you, Mister Logan. You were the best fun I’ve had in like years!” She admitted. He wasn’t scared to drink and dance like most of her friends were.

“You’re the most fun I’ve had in maybe forever,” Logan meant it, but she had no idea who this man was. She was too sad to notice when she first met him and now she’s too drunk to realize.

“Is there a way I can repay you? Maybe like a cup of tea? I don’t fuckin’ know,” y/n laughed with him. “I don’t know, hun, I kind of have to get back home,” he said.

“How far do you live from here?” She asked. “About thirty minutes,” he said. “Oh, no,” she gasped. He’d been drinking because of her, and now she was going to have him drive back and half an hour just to get him.

“Don’t worry, bub. I've been doin’ this a lot,” he said. “Yeah, but I’ll be stressed all night. Please, stay the night. I have a spare room? It’s the least I can do,” she said, sounding like a beg. “God, it’s hard to turn you down. Do you know that?” He said as y/n smiled.

Logan parked the car for the night before y/n got him situated in her spare room. “Still want tea?” She asked. “I think I’ll be fine, bub,” he said. “But a shot would due,” he added. He had seen the liquor drawer she had.

“Comin’ right up, handsome,” she said before walking off. As she did, he couldn’t help but watch her figure. He scanned her dress earlier, but she looked way better just now. Maybe it was the alcohol? He didn’t know.

“You always drink this much?” She asked. “Yeah, and you?” He asked as she handed him his shot before sitting next to him with hers. “As you can see,” she giggled.

“Cheers to a goodnight with a man I brought back from the club?” She couldn’t help herself. “Cheers,” the man downed the drink as he watched her. She’s looked so drinking…

“God, that it’s hard,” she shook her head. “Yeah,” he aimlessly said as he watched a drop of liquor roll down her lip. “Hey, c’mere,” the man said, softly turning her face before wiping the liquor from her mouth.

Y/n was shocked and silent, not knowing what to do after. That seemed so sweet, but at the same time, she was drunk out of her mind.

“They look pretty,” the man spoke, breaking the silence. His thumb grazed her bottom lip, loving the smooth feeling of them. “Really?” She asked low, feeling shy all of a sudden. She hasn’t been all night until now.

“Mhm hm,” he mumbled as he slowly leaned into her. She felt like she was in a trance the way she felt she needed to lean in. Her heart was raising until their lips touched.

At first, it was sweet and slow, maybe a little tongue but after they both opened and locked eyes, they couldn’t help it.

Y/n quickly hopped on top of Logan, now grinding on his hips as he held her up by her ass. The man was shocked at her aggression and dominance but couldn’t complain.

“You taste so good,” she said under her breath as she kissed him. “I’m glad I took you home,” she added before moving down to his neck. She felt this hard urge to mark the man she hardly knew.

“Fuck, y/n,” Logan moaned low. He knew his voice could go that high. Y/n hummed into his neck, sucking long and rough to make sure he was living here marked up.

“Can feel how hard you are. Bet you’ve been waiting for me to touch you all night, hm?” She asked, hands traveling down his stomach until she could palm his clothes cock.

“Mhm hm,” the man whined at her grip. “Words, baby,” she demanded in a soft voice. “Y-Yes, baby,” the man’s mouth went slack at her touch. “So good,” she said before pushing him down in the bed.

“Gonna be good for me tonight?” She asked as he nodded quickly. “Gonna be my birthday gift, baby?” Y/n had lifted her dress before fondling with his belt. “Yes, yes, I am,” he couldn’t hide his heavy breathing.

“Oh god — You’re a big boy, aren’t you?” Y/n pulled Logan’s cock out. He was heavy and huge. “Yes, I am,” he answered, wanting to be good for her. He wanted to make her proud. He wanted to make a woman he barely knew, proud.

“He looks hungry,” y/n stroked the man, watching his pre cum leak from the tip. Y/n spat on the man’s cock, making his eyes widen because no one has ever done that to him before. They’d just wrap their mouth around him or push him inside with no preparation.

“Gonna feel so good,” y/n lifted her hips before sliding all the way down in one go. “F-Fuck,” the man cried out, his already bucking up into her.

“Fuck — Could you be my bodyguard every night?” She jokingly asked but the man nodded back so quickly, she thought about it. Maybe he isn’t too bad. He was fun tonight. He could be fun every night.

“Gonna let me wet you every night, baby?” Y/n asked as she leaned down on his body. “Fuck, yes — I wanna be with you every night,” the man’s hips moved slightly up into y/n, causing her to clench around him from how deep he gets.

“How old are you again, baby?” Y/n asked. “Two hundred,” the man’s hands gripped y/n’s ass, not thinking about his response. “A man with a sense of humor — So hot,”

Y/n rolled her hips, grinding on the man to feel every thick and long inch in her. The way his skin rubbed her walls, made her squeeze around him. He was close but felt embarrassed about how short he was going to last.

“Gonna cum for me, baby?” Y/n asked, seeing the man bite his lip, trying to focus on holding back. “C’mon — I want you to fill me,” y/n whispered in his ear before giving it a light slick.

“Fuck,” the man let out a shaky moan as his legs shook. “C’mon, baby — Cum in me,” y/n began bouncing in the man’s cock, feeling him twitch inside her. She just knew he was going to give her a big and well-needed load.

“C’mon,” y/n rode him harder, filling the room with their skin slapping against each other and her wet cunt coating his cock. “I’m cumming!” Logan warned through his teeth as his hips bucked upwards a few times.

Y/n kept riding him, mixing his seed inside of her until she felt like she had enough. “So fuckin’ good, baby. I wonder if you taste you,” y/n spoke, feeling the urge to suck him dry.

“Fuck, it’s too much,” the old man said, grilling her hips a bit tight so she could slow down, but she wouldn’t. “Oh, really?” She asked, feeling the knot grow in her stomach. She was so close.

“God- Fuck — I can’t take it, baby,” Logan tried begging her. “Yes, you can. Just a few more seconds, baby. You think you can do that?” She asked, looking into Logan’s eyes. They were glossy and full of lust.

The man nodded his head with a shaky hum, feeling the need to cum again. “Good boy,” she spoke as she leaned up, rocking her hips back and forth until she couldn’t anymore.

Y/n released on the man, earning a whine from him. After she came, he couldn’t hold himself in. He had come inside of her again. For the second time.

“Oh god,” y/n breathed out, feeling so full. “S-Sorry,” the man shook as she leaned in front of his face, hands rubbing his cheek. “Wanna feel more of you,” she said.

The man was shocked at how many times this woman could go, but he didn’t want to disappoint her. He wanted to pleasure her and make her happy. He tried to be good for her. And he was for the whole night and many more.

[rebelspykatie]

Steve’s never had anyone show any genuine interest in the things he likes. Robin rolls her eyes when he brings up sports or silly movies that don’t have a bigger plot or character work. Even though she played soccer, she doesn’t care about it in the same way that Steve cares about basketball or football. 

The kids make fun of everything from his taste in music to his choice in snacks for movie nights. Mike calls him a little housewife for baking one time and he never shows up with cookies again. They’re never intentionally mean spirited, or at least he doesn’t think so. He knows he can give as good as he gets when it comes to catty, sarcastic comments, but he tries to steer clear of personal attacks on someone’s identity these days. He learned that lesson with Jonathan. 

But even before the party came along, it was like that. His parents never stuck around long enough to find out what he was up to, never attending a game or meet, and certainly in the dark about what he might be up to outside of school. Tommy only ever cared about himself and Carol, only following Steve around for clout, popularity by association. If he asked him right now, he’d bet a lot of money that Tommy doesn’t even remember his favorite food or the movie he used to watch when he was sick. There was a point where he thought he could share things with him. Until he realized mid ramble about sports cars that Tommy wasn’t even listening to him. He was staring at Carol and nodding along with a vacant expression. 

So he stopped sharing. Stopped caring if people knew anything about him because they never asked. People always made assumptions about him anyway. The girls he slept with only wanted one thing. The kids were happy to let him chauffeur them around with no questions asked. Robin was the only one he let in, the only one that cared about digging deeper. But, and she never said in so many words, he could tell that she thought his interests were mundane, and clearly not something that sparked any enthusiasm from her. She couldn’t even keep up with the girls he slept with, giving him the same bored stare as Tommy. 

Even now, after a few years, Steve’s reminded that they never would have become friends if not for trauma and the secret inner workings of the Russian’s within Hawkins. He’s lucky to have her, but he doesn’t think she ever would’ve chosen this, chosen him. And that’s fine. He’s used to not being chosen. His parents didn’t choose him when they started leaving him alone at age 12. Tommy and Carol chose each other and the reign of a new king when Steve fell from his throne. Nancy chose Jonathan. 

He doesn’t think he has a lot to offer. 

Well, at least until Eddie comes along. He’s taken by surprise when Eddie asks after the song that’s playing in his car. He’d assumed Eddie only liked metal music, and yeah he pokes fun at the genre of music Steve seems to stick to, begging him to give metal a shot, but he doesn’t say a word about how lame it is. When they’re having a movie night, Eddie notices that Steve gravitates towards coke and brings him one without Steve asking.

After Eddie sees his bedroom, Steve gets a pack of hot wheels for Christmas. Eddie jokes that he should give one to each of the kids as their new ride, since they seem to be ungrateful little twerps. Steve places them right under his posters on his dresser and Eddie grins at them every time he comes over. They lay in bed and pretend to drive them on the ceiling like they’re kids again. It shakes something loose in Steve’s chest. 

Eddie hates sports, but he invites Steve over on Mondays, when Wayne is perched in his chair for football. He quietly works on his campaigns while Steve and Wayne watch the games. Eddie somehow worms his way into Steve’s heart, digging deeper and deeper with each new thing, like he wants to know more. Steve’s history is a minefield, but Eddie expertly navigates through it, leaving who they were behind, building something new together. Steve’s already halfway in love with him before he even realizes that Eddie is something that he likes. 

He expects to freak out a bit more, but who is going to stop him? Who is going to care if he wants to be with this boy? He’s spent so long ignoring parts of himself for others that he wants to cherish this fragile thing, to cradle it in his hands, make sure no one can ruin it for him. When he kisses Eddie, it feels like coming home, like he’s finally found that place he’s been searching for his whole life. It’s a kind of devotion that Steve’s not used to, born of love and not obsession or jealousy or anger. 

He’s not sure he deserves it, but he’ll do everything in his power to keep it.

[alexthetrashyracoon]

It was Simon’s turn for the coffee run this morning, he had Soaps’, Gaz’ and Prices’ order always in his mind so he didn’t even bother asking in the group chat of their Restaurant, instead he visits the usual little coffee shop only a few houses down from the restaurant he was working at.

“Morning! What can I get you!” You beamed at him, smiling sweetly with your blue apron on and a thick paper cup in hand, ready to serve Simon.

For a second he’s taken aback since normal Walther, the other guy working here knows his order and starts preparing them the moment Simon shows up in the window.

But you were new. Simon had never seen you before.

He was smitten with you and blinked a few times before he was back in reality. Some weird little voice has already planned your wedding with him.

“Hey. Uh…” Simon actually needs a moment to think.

What was his usual? For a moment he actually had forgotten what he and the team usually got from that place, to used to Walther already preparing his stuff.

Oh yeah, Simon remember and quickly tells you his order before putting the money down on the counter while you start preparing the drinks.

“So… you’re new here?” Simon asked casually, leaning against the counter end, waiting for his drinks.

“Yeah. Moved here a few weeks ago and started working here last week. And you?” You chirped happily.

“Working down by the restaurant, have been for years now. You should come over. Walther usually spends his break and gets a quick snack there.” Simon lies smoothly. Walther never stepped a foot into the restaurant.

But he wanted to see you more often. And if you would spend your break there where he could impress you with his cooking skills, wasn’t that worth the little lie?

You smile happy at his suggestion. “I’ll try my best, can’t promise anything.” You place the four cups in the holder and slide it into Simon’s hands. “Enjoy it!”

Simon was one hundred percent smitten with you when he left the coffee shop and walked back to the restaurant.

For the next two weeks Simon offered to take over the coffee run, ignoring the teasing coming from Gaz and Soap and the knowing glances from Price and Laswell but he uses every chance he got to see you.

Sadly one day you’re not there, Walther is back and Simon begrudgingly pays for the drinks and headed back to the restaurant.

“Hey, Si! There is someone at the back door for you!” Gaz called as he cut the vegetables for today’s food.

Simon immediately rushed outside to see you, dressed to impress with a small smile on your lips. “Walther told me you were looking for me… is it too early for that food you offered?”

“It’s never too early. Come on, I get you some delicious breakfast before the rush starts.” Simon grinned and pulled you inside, introducing you to the rest of the team.

After that day you spend every free minute of your break at the restaurant, Laswell had been nice enough to give you your own table after a while, so nobody would bother you, and Simon who hangs around while the rest works their asses off.

You and Simon share your first kiss after an especially stressful rush hour where he had managed to burn his hand and almost punched a guest in the face who ordered some seafood without the fish that came with it.

This is for the one person that consumes more Coffee Shop Au Stories than there are actual Coffee Shop Au Stories on the internet <3

[purplesuitcowboy]

this is so long, my god but i love a sexy maid moment.

tw: rape (under negotiated kink and consent with coercion)

This job had not been Brittney's first choice. She'd been working at the restaurant one night when a man far to wealthy to be eating at an establishment as shitty as the place she worked had gotten her attention and slipped her his card. He'd told her that if she was ever interested in expanding her work opportunities and entering into a lucrative new field, she should give the number a call. At the time, she'd brushed off his proposition, thinking him a creep, but she never threw out his card. Of course, she'd gotten fired a week later for tardiness and after weeks of fruitless job hunting, she had re-evaluated his offer. Maybe, it wouldn't be that bad? He was pretty posh so she didn't imagine they have her doing hard labor outside or anything.

She checked her bank account and the minuscule balance helped her steel her nerves. She didn't have enough money to pay her rent this month. The leasing agency had been lenient with her thus far but she knew that eventually their patience with her late or missing or incomplete payments would wear out and she'd be out on the street. She'd called and found out that the number was for an agency that matched attractive young women with wealthy clients who needed extra assistance performing common household tasks. She'd asked the agent for more information but hadn't been able to get more out of them then vague statements about client confidentially.

She'd agreed and gone through the strangest application process she'd ever experienced. She'd never been asked to submit her measurements to a job before. She thought that maybe they just had specific uniform standards but she never received anything. The only pro about the whole thing, other then the pay check, was that it didn't take them long to match her with a client. She was sent an address, date, and time to arrive, and was told not to be late under any circumstances unless she wanted to be terminated immediately. This seemed like a lot for a job cleaning houses but she wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

That's how she'd managed to find herself in the swankiest building she'd ever been in on an elevator headed to the penthouse. The doors opened to a small hallway that lead to an ornate door with a gold door knocker in the shape of a lion. She knocked once and stood there in front of the door. Just how rich were these fucking people? She heard a series of locks being released and then the door opened, revealing a older man with salt and pepper hair, and strong jaw. He was obviously in great shape for his age, and she struggled to find the right place to look at him so she wasn't just shamelessly ogling her employer. He had a stern look about him and Brittney was happy that she wasn't late. She did not want to what he looked like when he was angry.

"Oh, uh. Hello, sir. I'm-", she started speaking quickly, trying to introduce herself but he cut her off.

"I know exactly who you are Brittney. Please come inside," he turned on his heel and briskly walked into the spacious apartment, not bothering to check and see if she was following behind him.

She squeaked in surprise and followed quickly behind him. The door immediately shut behind her and she heard a series of clicks as all of the locks fell back into place. It was the nicest apartment Brittney had ever seen. Everything was clean and white with the kind of modern minimalist furniture that only rich people liked. The best thing about the apartment was the windows. It had the best view of the city, that seemed to sprawl out like an ocean beneath them.

"We have much to discuss so why don't you get changed into your uniform and then we'll talk."

"Oh, I don't have a uniform. I thought the company was going to provide something but nothing ever came," she told him apologetically.

"I'd certainly hope not. We have a uniform for you here. It's in the other room there. It's based on your measurements so provided you did not lie, it should fit just fine."

Brittney looked at him baffled. She waited for him to provide more of an explanation but he did not so she walked into room to get changed. It was guest bedroom with an attached bathroom. Laid out on the bed was what looked like a slutty maid costume which was odd. She wandered around the room, looking for her uniform. Upon finding nothing, she poked her head out of the bedroom door.

"Excuse me, sir. I don't see my uniform," she told him.

"It should be on the bed," he told her, which would mean that the skimpy maid costume was her uniform.

"Oh, I'm sorry I can't wear that."

He looked at her for a moment with an expression on his face that seemed to communicate that he thought was was very stupid.

"Tell me, Brittney. Did you happen to read the contract before you signed it?"

Her face redden. She had looked at it but not very carefully. It just looked like a normal contract to her so she'd signed it without much thought.

"I see," he replied, voice cold." In the future, I would suggest you read contacts before you sign them and certainly before you show up at a clients house for a job. If you'd read it, you'd understand that employed in this capacity I own you - all of you. If you wish not to continue, please tell me now so I can send you on your way and we can stop wasting my time."

Her eyes widened as the reality of what she'd signed up for dawned on her. She'd figured that the job was weird but she didn't realize that it was going to be this. He was giving her an opportunity to leave and she should take it but she knew that if she did she could kiss her check good-bye.

"My apologies, sir. Please forgive me. I'll get changed right away."

She ducked back into the bedroom, closing the door gently behind her. She changed out of her clothes and into the skimpy costume. She'd original thought that it was one piece but it was actually three. It also came with a matching choker, tights, and high heels, as well as a little metal thing shaped like a tear drop with a heart shaped jewel on the end but Brittney couldn't figure what that was suppose to be for.

The top was something like a triangle bikini top with a matching shrug that only covered her shoulders. The triangles of the bikini top covered her nipples, which had come to points in the cool air and were visible under the thin fabric of the top, but little else. The skirt, which had a white apron sewed onto it, was equally immodest. It hugged her hips well but barely covered her shaved pussy. She'd looked around for underwear but found none. Brittney tried to pull her tiny skirt down to cover a bit more of her ass but it was in vain. She hoped that he wasn't going to have her picking anything up because she'd be completely exposed. With the addition of the accessories and shoes, she was (barely) dressed in her uniform. She walked back into the main room of the apartment where her client was waiting for her, holding the small metal object in her hand.

"I'm dressed, sir," she told. "I'm sorry. I don't know what to do with this though."

He walked around her in a circle, looking over her body appreciatively.

"It fits you well," he told her, taking the item from her hand. "Don't worry. I'll help you. Now, I am going to tell you about this job and you are going to listen. Today is going to be unlike your other days here. Consider it an introduction to the job."

He slide the item in his pocket and with his hand free, he grabbed Brittney by the waist and pulled her towards him. She stumbled forward, landing with her hands on his broad chest. He cupped her ass with his big hands, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh. Brittney gasped, at the sensation of his hands on her. This was bad. He was her boss, he shouldn't be touching her like this and she shouldn't be enjoying it. Despite her reluctance, she said nothing, afraid of pissing him off and losing her job.

"As I previously mentioned, while you work in this capacity, I own you and I mean this very literally," he told her, as he turned her so that her ass was pressed tightly against his thick cock. He ran his hands up and down her lithe body, groping her full tits and upper thighs.

"You are going to do what I tell you to do, when I tell you to do it, and who I tell you to do it with," he continued. With one hand, he freed her tits from the confines of her tiny top, teasing her sensitive nipples with his fingers, and the other, he sneaks between her legs to rub at her little pussy. He runs two thick fingers against her slit, coating them in her juices, and then plunging two of them inside of her. Brittney moans in response, hips bucking to take in more of his thick fingers.

"You will not talk back, and you will not make me repeat myself. Do I make myself clear?" When she doesn't respond quickly enough, he pulls his fingers out of her cunt and roughly spanks her pussy, earning a yelp of surprise from Brittney.

"Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes," she replied, but she quickly learned that this was not the response that he was looking for as he delivered another series of slaps to her pussy.

"Not quite, try again," he told her, his hand hovering over her wet cunt ready to deliver another series of slaps if she fucked up.

"Yes, sir."

"Good, girl," he tells her and she shudder's at the praise. "Now, I am a firm master but I am not unfair. It is expected that you will make mistakes but you will be guided and corrected as needed."

He slips his fingers back into her waiting cunt, scissoring them to stretch out her hole and then adding a third finger, pumping them in and out roughly. While he fucked her with his fingers, he used his thumb to rub her tender clit until her legs began to tremble. He lets her get close to the edge but denies her, over and over again. To Brittney, it feels like her pleasure stretches into eternity. She has no conception of how long they have been standing here in his living room with his devilish fingers playing with her pussy. Letting go of her tit, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out the object from before.

"This, my dear, is a butt plug and it is apart of your uniform. I expect you wear it whenever you are working in this capacity. I'm sure this seems daunting now but I'm sure you'll grow to love it."

He pulls his fingers out of her cunt and pushes the plug inside, coating it in her juices. Brittney whimpers at the sensation but offers up no resistance. Slowly, he fucks her with the plug until she's close to cumming but slips it out before she can. He carefully pushes the plug against the tight ring of her anus and watches with satisfaction as it stretches around the toy. Brittney groans as her ass is slowly stretched and filled by the unfamiliar object. With the body of the plug snugly in her ass, the only thing that can be seen is the twinkling heart shaped jewel between her ass cheeks.

"That's a good girl. I think, you've earned an orgasm."

With her ass filled by the plug, his thick fingers in her pussy and against her clit felt even more intense. She came with a scream, as her legs buckled and she sagged against her employer's broad chest. She'd never cum that hard before. She felt like she'd been shot into space.

"Now that you've cum, I think it's time that you show your appreciation, huh?" he told her, as he pushed her to her knees and pulled out his hard cock.

[chrissturnsfav]

𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐑!𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐗 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

headcannons of what rapper!chris is like as singer!reader’s boyfriend.

ᰔᩚ mentions of sex, drugs, and alcohol, rapper!chris x singer!reader

rapper!chris who is known in the industry for his natural flow, the amount of money he makes, having the best drugs, and his style. many big rappers in the industry are eager to work with him because of how good his verses are.

rapper!chris who's stage name is 'chri$.'

rapper!chris who is very possessive. he sees someone simply just checking you out? they'll be taken care of with his fists.

rapper!chris who lets you know who is in control when you catch an attitude. he's quick to remind you who you belong to—"whoa, y'talkin' t'me like that? yeah, nah...watch your mouth ma, remember who takes care of you."

rapper!chris who has a slightly douchy demeanor on the outside, but deep down is a nice and silly person who has a soft spot for you and his family.

rapper!chris who definitely has a goofy side in contrast with his slightly mean personality. he's very loving, always making time to wave at fans or sign autographs when he's out. he wants to make sure his fans feel appreciated by him.

rapper!chris who would never allow you to try any of the drugs he does. if you were to ever ask him if you could try while he's snorting lines at a club next to you, he'd be like: "what? nah...you must be trippin.' ain't happenin'. ever, 'n you know that."

rapper!chris who focuses mainly on music, his brand, and his youtube channel with his brothers.

rapper!chris who's always talking about you in his songs. they range from lewd verses to even some soft ones where he talks about your laugh, your pretty face, etc.

rapper!chris who is rough when it comes to sex. his favorite position is doggy—of course, he loves watching your ass bounce back onto his cock. he loves to praise you and throw in a few degrading phrases if you've been bratty. "atta girl, yeah, jus' like that," "this what y'needed? needed t'be fucked like a slut t'get your attitude in check, huh?" "good girl, look at you, pretty lil' fucked out face all f'me."

rapper!chris who is always touching you, whether it be his hand on your thigh in the car, idly playing with your hair, holding your hand—anything he does with you, his hands always find their way to you somehow. his love language is definitely physical touch.

rapper!chris who always watches your alcohol intake when you guys go out. he makes sure no guys are in your proximity while also making sure you don't get sloppy—he wants you to save that for only him to see later in the night.

rapper!chris who listens to your music the second you let him listen and he always gives his brutally honest input without being too harsh. "s'good, ma. could throw a few more verses in there instead of repeatin' y'self." "so pretty, love hearin' you sing, sound like a fuckin' angel." "damn, was that one 'bout me?"

rapper!chris who makes sure you're always the first to listen to a new song he records and immediately wants your input on it. if you tell him you don't like a verse, he'll change it asap only for you.

rapper!chris who loves the contrast between you two. your girly demeanor and soft spoken music contrasting with his hard, fiery rap music just turns him on.

rapper!chris who always makes sure you have what you need. he'll give you stacks of money randomly, buy you extravagant gifts for no reason etc. he'll also absolutely never let you pay for a single thing, and when you profusely thank him with a giant sweet smile, he'll say, "yeah, yeah, only do it cause i love seein' my girl's pretty smile. y'like it, ma? yeah, knew ya would."

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: just some headcannons to give everyone a glimpse of rapper!chris

thank you for reading!! <3

@chrissturnsfav ™

[nastybuckybarnes]

Rat in the Mouse Cage

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Summary: There's a rat on base, and all evidence seems to be pointing to you.

Warnings: lowkey mean!soap, angst, language, angst, ptsd, angry!ghost, more of mouse's backstory??,

Word Count: 5.5K

A/n: here it is, the angsty one. I had SO much fun writing this and I reaaalllly hope you guys enjoy! The next few parts are in progress but you should see them soon!

~*~

Soap opens the door to the boardroom, a room you've never been in before, and you follow him when he motions you into the room.

Captain Price is seated at the table, his eyes focused on a file in his hands.

The air is tense, and you're immediately on edge.

"Have a seat," Soap says, his voice hard.

You comply, sitting across from Price anxiously.

"Is... everything okay?" You finally ask, looking between the two men.

Price sighs and sets his paper down, finally lifting his gaze to yours.

"No. Everything's not okay."

You feel dizzy with how quickly the blood leaves your face.

"Ghost... is okay?" You ask after a long moment, squeezing your hands together as you prepare yourself for the worst.

"Yes, Ghost is fine."

You frown, glancing around.

"Where is he?"

Price and Soap exchange glances, the latter standing at the closed door with his arms crossed tightly over his chest.

You've never seen him look so... angry before.

"Listen, I'm gonna give you this one chance to come clean. Don't make this any harder for yourself than it already is," Price warns softly.

"Who do you work for?"

The question catches you off guard, and you cock your head to the side.

"I... I don't work."

Price scrubs a hand over his face, the language barrier only adding to his anger.

He glances over at Soap, and the Sergeant takes that as his cue to clarify.

"We know you've been sellin' information. We need to know exactly who it is you work for. Who your buyer is."

Your mouth drops open in shock at the accusation, but he's speaking again before you have a chance to defend yourself.

"We've already caught you, so don' bother tryna lie your way outta this."

You shake your head so hard you make yourself dizzy.

"No, no! Not me! I-I don't talk to anyone! I don't give any information, I have no money I don't sell anything! Where is Ghost?" If Ghost is here, he'll listen. He can help you. He'll trust you.

You just need Simon.

"He's not here," Soap says coldly.

"I want Ghost, please!" You all but cry.

"Well he doesn't want you!" Soap shouts, slamming his hands on the table. "No one wants a filthy rat!"

The words are spat with enough malice to cut you deeper than a knife ever has.

"Ghost already knows the truth. Had to keep him away or he'd kill ya before we get answers."

The two men watch as Soap's words have the desired effect, your shoulders slumping forward and tears welling up in your eyes.

It hurts them to have to do this, to have to hurt you. You seemed so sweet, so innocent. But if it's what protects the team, so be it.

"I'm gonna ask you one more time," Price says, "Who do you work for?"

You bring your teary eyes to his and shake your head once again.

"I don't work. I don't sell anything and I am not rat."

You're innocent, and this is a hill you'll die on if you have to.

Price heaves out a heavy sigh then nods at Soap.

He walks around the table to you, ignoring the way you shake your head and try to rise up out of your seat to get away from him.

You raise your hands in surrender when he reaches you, not fighting him as he zip-ties your wrists together in front of you.

"Please, I just want Ghost, please," you beg tearfully, trying your hardest to hold back sobs as he marches you out of the room.

Soap says nothing, only leads you down a hallway that you've never seen before.

"Wh-where do you take me?"

He stops outside of an elevator, hand firmly holding your bicep as he waits for it to arrive.

"Holding cells. A cage fit for a rat like you."

Cage. Another cage.

You can feel yourself start to hyperventilate.

You can't go back in a cage. You won't.

The elevator doors open and he pushes you inside, following after and quickly pressing the button marked 'B'.

You stare at the back of his head as the doors close.

"I didn't do it," you whisper once again, your voice soft and full of tears.

Soap swallows his feelings, the regret carving a hole in his heart.

He truly thought you were good, that he knew you, could trust you.

He can only imagine how angry Ghost will be when he finds out who he's been sharing his bed with.

"You may have Ghost fooled, but I can't deny the facts, and they all point to you," he says stiffly.

Your heart hammers painfully in your chest as the elevator walls begin to close in on you.

You can't go back in a cage. You can't. It took you forever to break out of the first one, the one you called home. Now, you've found something good. A real home, a family.

Only for them to turn on you.

Before you're fully aware of what you're doing, you sweep Soap's feet out from under him. You then straddle his waist and knock your fist against his head, wincing when his head rocks back against the ground with a dull 'thud'.

It hurts you to hurt him, but you don't have time to dwell on that.

Instead, you rise to your feet and hit the STOP button, then grab his knife from his belt and slice your wrists free.

Tears cloud your vision as anxiety eats you, and you scrub your hands over your hair. You throw your head back as you struggle to breathe, only for your escape route to hit you right in the face.

Glancing between Soap's unconscious body and the roof opanels, you cringe internally at what you're about to do.

It takes a lot more effort than you thought it would to hunch him over where you need him to be, and then you're stepping carefully on his back and pushing the ceiling tiles aside.

You climb up and out, crouching on top of the elevator for a long moment as you try to figure out your next steps.

~*~

"Simon, a word," Captain Price says, intercepting the man as he returns to base.

Ghost tenses slightly, but falls into a step beside his superior.

"I wanted you to hear it from me first. We've taken your little mouse into custody for now. Soap brought her downstairs for detainment while we investigate further. All our intel shows that she's our rat."

His head snaps to his Captain and he stops walking.

"What are you talking about?"

Price sighs and extends a file for Ghost to read, but the man only stares down at it.

"I know how heavily you're... involved with her, which is why I wanted to be the one to tell you."

"Let me talk to her."

Price doesn't get to give him an answer, he's already marching toward the elevator.

"Simon, this isn't up for debate. She's guilty, and she'll be punished for what she's done. That's the way of the world, son. I hate that you got your feelings wrapped up in this, but-"

"We need to explore all other options before we continue with this. How could she be the rat? She never leaves my quarters unless she's accompanied by Soap or Gaz."

"That you're aware of," Price corrects, coming to a halt beside the man as he waits for the elevator.

"You can't be on this, Simon. You wanna talk to her, you can this once, but after that this is out of your hands. You're too involved."

Simon grinds his teeth together but remains silent.

He just needs to talk to you, that's all. Somehow, he'll prove you're innocent, and this will all be dealt with.

After what feels like an eternity, the elevator doors open, and Simon's heart drops into his feet.

"Soap!"

Price is at the man's side in an instant, helping him into a seated position and checking his pulse.

His hard gaze turns to the Lieutenant.

No words are spoken. They don’t need to be. Simon knows exactly what’s going through the man’s head.

If you’re innocent, why run?

While Price checks on Soap, Simon steps into the elevator, looking up to where the tiles have been moved.

Your escape route, no doubt.

Through there, he's sure you've found a way out through the vents or into the ceiling, but either way he knows you're probably long gone. Lost now somewhere in the hidden areas of the base.

Rather than dwell on that, he's quick to help his Captain bring Soap to the medical wing, silent the entire time.

He knows you're not the rat. Deep in every fibre of his being, he knows. He can feel it in his bones. But his gut feelings aren't enough to sway his Captain.

"I want her found and I want it done quick. We keep this under wraps, no one is to know she's on the loose. The last thing we need is anyone in a panic."

"Let me just talk to her. She'll listen," he tries.

Price shakes his head, "what part of 'you can't be on this' do you not understand? You're dismissed, and if I catch you trying to involve yourself, I'm gonna hafta take it above my head," he threatens.

Ghost says nothing, only grinds his teeth together, turns on his heel, and marches out of the medical wing.

He's not sure where to go, spends a good amount of time pacing angrily through the halls as he tries to figure this out, folder from Price held tightly in his hands.

He hasn't read it yet, he can't.

Though he knows it's not you, he can't shake the fear, the ill feeling gripping his spine at the idea of you being capable of something like that.

Eventually, he discards the file on the desk in his office then heads up to the roof to smoke a pack or two.

He doesn't feel your presence until his third cigarette.

Trying to stay nonchalant, he takes another drag.

"I know you're here," he finally says, blowing out the smoke and looking down at the ground.

His mask is pushed up around his nose, and he doesn't bother adjusting it.

"I'm not going to tell them where you are or... bring you to them. I just... I just want to make sure you're okay. Please."

You stand in the shadows, eyes on his back as you weigh his words carefully before slowly stepping forward.

He turns to you, his heart breaking when he sees your puffy tear-stained face.

"Why do you want me to be okay? Why see me?" You ask, your voice hoarse from all the crying.

His brows pull together and he longs to reach for you.

"Why wouldn't I? All I've ever wanted is for you to be okay."

Your bottom lip wobbles and you shake your head, crossing your arms over your chest as he steps toward you.

"Soap told me... what you really think," you begin, "that you... you don't want to see me. You-you think I'm rat, too."

"He's lying." He says the words immediately, without a moment of hesitation or a shred of doubt.

You glare up at him, taking a half-step back when he reaches for you.

"I'm not going in cage."

"I know." He takes another step forward.

"I didn't do it." You take another step back.

"I know."

"I didn't do it and they-they don't believe me. I save Soap's life! I do everything I can to help! To be good, and they don't believe me! Why don't they believe me?!" Your eyes blur with unshed tears and you suck in a hiccuping breath.

"I don't know," Ghost whispers.

His heart aches for you and he feels anger simmer deep within him at the lies spewed in a pathetic attempt at drawing a confession from you.

"They tell me you will kill me," you whisper, shaking your head as tears slip down your cheeks.

"I could never, Mouse." He takes another step forward, and he's almost close enough to touch you.

"If I don't go with them... they don't trust me. But if I do go with them... they still don't trust me. I am in cage... or they kill me."

Finally, he reaches forward, tilting your chin up and forcing you to look at him.

"I won't let that happen," his voice is harder now. "I won't let any of them touch you."

Your breathing gets quick again and he holds your hand, squeezing tightly.

"Breathe with me," he whispers.

You obey, following his breaths and successfully calming yourself down.

He nods, satisfied, then gently takes hold of your wrists, inspecting the angry red marks left by the zip-tie.

His eyes lift back up to yours and it's like you're seeing him for the first time that night.

"I didn't do it, Simon. Please, I didn't."

His eyes soften and he nods, cupping your cheek softly.

"I know, love. I believe you."

You finally nod, exhaling heavily as if a weight is lifted off of your chest.

He believes you. You knew he would. You knew you could trust him.

"But someone else did, and now they're trying to frame you for it."

It takes a minute for his words to process in your brain, but when they do you're frowning up at him.

"Why me? Who... who would do that?" What kind of horrible monster would do something like this?

"I don't know, little one. But I'll fix this. I just need you to trust me."

You blink your wet eyes a few times at him.

"How will you fix?"

"Just trust me." That's easy enough. You've been doing it since the moment you met him, and you have no intention of stopping anytime soon.

"What do I do?"

He pushes your hair away from your face and presses a sweet kiss to your forehead, then pulls you into a tight hug.

You relax instantly, melting into his arms and snuggling your head against his chest.

He rests his chin atop your head and sighs heavily.

"Just give me time, Mouse, I promise. I won't let them touch you."

Your hands ball his shirt into your fists.

"Where do I go?"

He sighs one more time and closes his eyes, trying to figure that out as well.

Eventually, he settles on telling you the truth.

"I don't know."

~*~

His fist is knocking on Price's office door later that evening.

"Come in."

He's inside the office before the words are fully out of his Captain's mouth.

"I know you said not to get involved," he begins, holding back an eye-roll when Price sighs.

"Simon," he warns.

"And if you tell me one more time then fine, I won't get involved on your side of this," he continues as if Price hasn't said a word, "but there's a rat here, and you need all the help you can get if you wanna flush them out."

Price rubs his forehead and squeezes his eyes shut.

"We already know who the rat is."

"No, you think you know who the rat is," Simon argues.

"All the evidence points to your mouse. Are we supposed to deny the facts because she warms your bed at night?" He snaps, growing tired of this.

"The facts are that you didn't even properly talk to her. You cornered her, ambushed her, threw vile accusations and lies at her to try and get some fake confession from her, and you're surprised that she ran. Those are the facts."

Price leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest.

"So, you've talked to her."

Simon places his hands on the desk, leaning forward.

"Let me help."

Price shakes his head, "nothing comes between me and my team."

"Then let me help and nothing will."

Price's thick brows raise.

"Are you threatening me, Lieutenant?"

Silence hangs long and heavy between the two of them and neither man makes an effort to break it for a good few minutes.

Finally, Price speaks.

"The safety of my team comes first before anything else."

Simon nods slowly and straightens back up.

"If that's the case, then it's in the best interests of everyone involved if you let me find the rat. The real rat. Because I'm not lettin' a single one of you touch a hair on her fuckin' head."

It's quiet again for a few minutes, but this time Simon is the one who speaks.

"Three days," he says quietly. "That's all I need."

Price looks at him warily for a long while before huffing out a sigh and shaking his head.

"If you don't have the rat in front of me in three days, regardless of who it is, I'm gonna gas the building with your Mouse hiding in it. Best way to flush out a rat."

Simon grinds his teeth together but nods his understanding, turning on his heel and marching out of the office.

He doesn't go far, only down the hall to his own office where the folder lies.

He plops down in his chair and flips it open, ready to pour over every word until he finds something to work with.

He's only reading for about half an hour before he hears it, soft creaking coming from the ceiling above him.

He knows it's you, but before he can say anything, theres a knock on his office door.

"Come," he barks, tossing he file back on his desk as Soap pushes the door open.

Simon's eyes narrow at the man, the lies he spewed still tumbling around in his brain.

"Heard you visited Price... and you've met with yer Mouse," the mohawked man says, his eyes scanning the room.

"She's not in here."

Soap's eyes snap to Ghost's, the latter leaning back in his chair.

"How's your head?"

Soap nods, looking down for a moment.

"M'not concussed, wasn't her hit that got me, it was the bounce against the floor."

Ghost only shrugs, "can't say you didn't deserve it."

Sighing, Soap leans against the doorframe.

"Are we really gonna do this, Lt?"

"You're the one standing in my office, Sergeant," he counters, crossing his arms over his chest.

They're quiet for a moment, and he knows Soap is going to speak his mind.

"Everything points to her. S'only reasonable."

"And that's reason enough to lie? To spew nothin' but bullshit through your teeth? To scare her? You were tryna get her to confess to something she didn't do to make things easier for you."

Soap steps into the office, his own anger rising.

"That's not true. I tried to do my job. You find out there's a rat, you see the pile of evidence, and any rational person would follow the trail. S'not my fault you're shaggin' the broad 'n now you can' think for your bloody self."

Ghost is on his feet before the man is finished speaking, stalking toward him.

"That's enough, MacTavish," He growls, glaring down at the man.

"You're dismissed. Get outta my office."

Clenching his jaw, Soap turns and leaves without another word.

Sighing, Ghost sits back down and puts his face in his hands.

He knew his teammates had their doubts, but he never realized how deep that distrust went.

After a moment, Simon glances up at the vent in his office where he knows you sat listening to the entire exchange.

"I'll fix this, Mouse. I promise," he whispers.

Flipping the folder open again, he pours himself back into it, reading over everything. Every name, every date, every location, and every piece of information that got leaked.

Finally, after what feels like hours, he finds a comonality other than you.

"Mouse? You still with me? Knock once for yes, twice for no."

He listens patiently, and eventually, you knock once on the vent.

"Perfect. Now, I want you to follow the sound of my feet, okay? We're leaving my office."

Again, one knock greets him.

He rises from his desk and leaves his office, walking slowly and making just enough noise for you to be able to follow him from your place in the ceiling.

He leads you this way and that, finally coming to a halt in a utility closet.

Pushing the ceiling tiles out of the way, he climbs up on a few boxes and sticks his head into the ceiling, his heart easing when he catches sight of you again.

"You okay?"

You nod, crawling toward him.

"Come down here."

You obey, slowly climbing out of the hole in the ceiling and gasping when his strong arms wrap around you.

He holds you in an embrace far longer than he normally does, then tilts your chin up and presses a firm kiss to your lips.

"I think I've figured it out, little one. But I need something from you in order to prove it."

You nod eagerly, desperate to clear your name.

He sighs and nods once, then opens the door to the utility closet, looking both ways to make sure no one's around before motioning for you to follow him.

You do, staying only a half-step behind him as he leads you through a door and into a stairwell.

"This way."

You follow closely behind him as he leads you down a flight of stairs, looking around as much as you can as you try to figure out what his plan is, where he's taking you.

Finally, he leads you down another hallway and stops just outside of a door.

He looks at you, his eyes suddenly serious, far more serious than you've ever seen them, and you can't help the nervousness that chews at you.

You pick at the skin around your nails absentmindedly as he places a hand on your cheek, cupping it gently.

"'M'gonna ask you to do somethin'... somethin' that I know you're not gonna wanna do. But I just... I need you to trust me on this, okay?"

Your brows pull together at his words.

"Okay..."

"Do you trust me?" He asks his free hand on the door handle.

He doesn't open it. He needs you to confirm out loud to him and to yourself before he opens the door.

You nod, looking between him and the door anxiously.

He grips your chin more firmly and forces your eyes to stay on his.

"I need you to look at me when you say it. Do you trust me?"

Your stomach flips and you need to wet your lips before speaking. Your skin crawls at this, at the intensity of his gaze, the unknown behind the door.

"I do. I trust you," you finally confirm.

He lets out an audible breath of relief, and then he's pushing open the door and your heart is falling into your stomach.

Immediately, you shake your head and take a step back, only for him to catch you and halt you in your tracks.

"No."

Simons sighs, tugging you forward gently. "Mouse, please."

You shake your head more firmly this time.

"No," you repeat, "I-I can't. I won't. No more cage."

Simon looks over to the holding cells with a heavy heart, then pulls his eyes back to yours.

"I know. But this... this is the only way. You need to trust me."

You yank free from his grip and take a step away from him as tears cloud your vision.

"I-I didn't do it. Why do you bring me here?"

You look at the cells then back to his eyes and shake your head once more. You thought you could trust him. You thought he trusted you.

"Please, Simon..."

He reaches for you, tries to pull you into an embrace, only for you to step away once more.

Where you'll go, you have no idea. You just know that you can't... you won't go back in a cage.

"Mouse, I promise you. Three days is all I need. And then I'll come let you out and you'll never have to look at this place again. I swear it."

"No."

He sighs, rubbing a hand over his forehead. He doesn't want to do this to you. If he could prove your innocence without this, he would. But he knows his team, his captain. He knows what it'll take to get the truth out.

"If we don't do this, they're gonna gas the building with you inside, and you'll die."

Your fiery gaze finally returns to his and for a moment he wishes it didn't.

"I'd rather die than go back in cage."

His heart cracks in his chest.

"Please, Mouse. For me. Please. Trust me, just this once."

Your bottom lip quivers as you stare at the cell, eyes getting distant as horrible memories of a past you long to forget creep up on you.

Finally, you suck in a sharp breath and turn to look at him again.

"Three days?"

He nods immediately, his shoulders relaxing while his eyes soften.

"Yes. Three days at most, I promise. I swear, on the memory of my nephew, three days."

Reluctantly, you walk forward, looking at every cell before stepping into the one in the corner. The largest and the darkest.

Your shoulders are tight by your ears as you look around.

It has a thin mattress on the ground and a toilet in the corner. Over half the cell is shrouded in darkness, and the other half is in direct view of the door.

It's bigger than the cage you grew up in, but the sick feeling doesn't leave your stomach as your freedom is brutally ripped from you once again.

Simon squeezes his eyes shut as he closes the door behind you, his heart hurting.

Knowing what he does about you, about your past, this feels like the ultimate betrayal. Arguably one of the worst things he could put you through.

But he needs to.

You flinch at the sound of the lock clicking, not turning to face him even as tears start to trickle down your cheeks.

"Mouse..."

You shake your head, wrapping your arms around yourself in a pathetic attempt at comfort.

"Go," you whisper.

You don't want him here, watching you like some caged dog.

His hands wrap around the bars of your cell as he tries to get you to understand.

"It's not permanent, I swear."

"Go!" You snarl, a hiccuped sob following your words.

And just like that, the floodgates open.

You press your hand to your mouth to muffle the sound, but you can't hide the shake of your shoulders, the way you curl in on yourself.

It breaks his heart.

Silently, he takes a step back, then another, and another, pausing when he reaches the door.

"I'll be back for you. I promise."

~*~

Somewhere, somehow, between blinks, you fall asleep.

One moment you're closing your eyes to blink, the next you're waking up groggy and stiff.

Ghost stands at the door to your cell, a tray of food and a bottle of water in hand.

He needs to swallow the lump in his throat before he speaks, his heart breaking seeing you like this.

"I brought you food... thought you could use some company."

You're curled up in a ball in the corner of the cell, eyes teary and red as you glare at him.

He put you here.

It kills what's left of his soul to see you like this.

"Things are coming together, won't be much longer now, I promise."

You say nothing, only keep your icy cold glare focused on him as he sets the food down and slides it through the opening at the base of your cell.

The sound of your sniffles plagues him, and he wishes none of this happened in the first place.

He watches you for a moment longer, his eyes sad, before turning and leaving you alone once again.

When he finds out who's framing you, he's going to have his fun with them.

You're alone for only a few moments before the panic sets in once more.

Your chest rises and falls rapidly as you struggle to suck in short gasps of oxygen, nails scratching at your neck as you search desperately for your necklace, for the one item that's ever made you feel safe.

Tears run like rivers down your cheeks and you moan out your sorrows.

What would your mother think if she saw you?

She sacrificed everything, everything, for you to leave one cage only for you to willingly walk into another.

You shake your head at yourself, at your foolishness.

This was probably their plan all along. They probably know your father, they've probably gone to get him.

Scrambling to the tray of food, you grab the knife and desperately try to pry at the lock of your cell. When that proves fruitless, you jam the blade into the hinges, sobbing hopelessly.

The knife slides against the metal and finds its way to your thigh, slicing you nice and deep.

You hiss at the pain and drop the blade, stumbling backward then sliding down the wall.

It's useless. There's no escaping.

You start to feel dizzy as your thoughts overwhelm you, and before you know it you're whispering soft apologies and prayers in your mother tongue. Begging for peace, for freedom.

As you whisper the words, something dawns on you.

From the moment of your birth, you were promised nothing but pain. And life was only too eager to oblige; bestowing upon you torment after torment, loss after brutal loss.

Until finally, you broke free. You found your salvation, your Ghost, only for him to be another painful reminder that freedom is not something you were ever meant to taste.

~*~

Price meets Ghost in the boardroom at a ripe 0500hrs the following day, a steaming cup of coffee in a paper cup held tightly in his grasp.

Soap follows shortly after, on high alert.

Gaz trickles in last, the least tense of the three and possibly the most innocent in Ghost's eyes.

"So?" Price asks, looking around the empty room.

"Where's my rat?"

As if on cue, there's a firm knock on the door.

Ghost slaps the tablet he was holding against Price's chest and makes his way to the furthest corner of the room, content to spectate.

"Come in," Price says gruffly, eyes dropping down to the tablet in his hands.

His brows draw together, and then he's looking up at the newcomer.

"Corporal Matthews."

The young man salutes his superiors, then steps into the room, looking around curiously.

"What's going on?"

Price has already pieced it together, giving a short nod to the masked man in the corner.

"Why don't you tell me?"

Gaz and Soap exchange glances, the former shutting the door and leaning against it, blocking any form of escape.

The Corporal chuckles nervously and looks between the three men before swallowing hard when Price steps forward.

"So... you think it's funny what you've been doing? Care to explain to me what exactly you find so fucking funny about this?"

Soap clenches his jaw, dread bubbling in his stomach.

A sick part of him hopes Ghost is wrong, that Matthews isn't the rat, if only to absolve him of the guilt he's sure will eat him alive after all he did to you. All he said.

"What are you talking about?"

"Enough with that, son. We know it was you. Don't make this more difficult than it already is," Price whispers. In his eyes is none of the anger that was there when he spoke to you. No, instead there's nothing but disappointment.

Simon's anger will be enough to cover the whole team, and then some.

"Well, what about the Lieutenant's whore? Huh?" Matthews defends, glaring at the men. They bristle at the words, eyes darting to the hulking man hiding in the shadows in the corner.

"Funny how you knew exactly what we were talkin' about," Soap says, stepping forward and squaring up with the man.

So it's true. He was wrong about you. And he has no idea what he's going to do to fix it.

Price hands the tablet to Matthews and watches as realization dawns on him slowly.

On the screen is live video footage of the holding cells where a familiar mouse is curled up in a ball, rocking back and forth.

"She's been in there for days. This latest leak? Happened last night. Couldn't've been her. We set you up, and you took the bloody bait."

"Well it's her fault anyway!" Matthews suddenly explodes, tossing the tablet onto the table angrily.

"If she wasn't fuckin' the Lieutenant then Jacobs would still be alive! If he didn't have his face in her snatch every night, he'd see that she's a fuckin problem!"

Silence hangs heavily in the room for a long moment as Ghost rises to his feet and slowly approaches the other man.

"You wanna tell 'im that?" Price asks, nodding over the Corporal's shoulder.

He glances back then does a double take, spinning around and backing up only to run right into Soap.

Ghost stops right in front of him, glaring down at the man.

Corporal Matthews tries to hold his ground, to not be intimidated by the huge man in front of him, but he's seen firsthand what this man -this beast- is capable of.

"Didn't get to have my fun with Jacobs, prick died quick. But you can bet 'm'gonna take my time with you."

[covenofagatha]

But you're my stepmom! (Part 1)

A year after your dad's divorce with your mom, he introduces you to his new wife, Agatha. And she just wants to get to know you better.

Word count: 1500+

Warnings: mentions of underage drinking, blood

Taglist: @stayevildarling

A/N: trying to make this more of a slowburn, but we'll see how long that lasts lol. Part 2 should be up by tonight hopefully

“Are you sure your dad won’t mind?” Wanda asks hesitantly, a few steps behind you as you stop in front of the gate. 

You had gotten so bored in fifth period English that you had all but dragged your best friend to your car to skip the rest of the day. And now you were at your dad’s house, sneaking into the pool in his backyard. He lived in a house twenty minutes away from your high school and your mom’s house in hopes that you would come visit him often. You knew your dad wasn’t supposed to be home until late that night, so he would never find out that you had been there. 

Things with your dad hadn’t been great ever since you had been the one to find out he was having an affair two years ago with a woman that he worked with. You told your mom, who promptly filed for divorce, and then your dad got dumped by his side piece because she was tired of not being able to go public soon enough. The irony still makes you laugh. 

Almost a year after the divorce, he had sat you down and said: “Sweetie, there’s someone I want you to meet.” Enter Agatha Harkness, your dad’s new wife. The first thought that went through your mind when you first saw her was, is this woman blind? She was so far out of your dad’s league it wasn’t even funny. Your dad is a relatively short man, more gray than black hair at this point, with a square-shaped face. Meanwhile, Agatha was ethereal. Her piercing blue eyes always gave you the feeling that she knew something you didn’t, and her luscious dark hair was always shiny and cascading over her shoulders perfectly. 

And there was something about her long fingers and veiny hands that made you want to scream. 

You weren’t exactly sure how a woman like this had ended up with your dad, but out of spite for your dad and everything he had put your family through, you made it a point to stay as far away from her as possible. They had been married for about a year now and you can count on one hand the number of interactions you’ve had with her.

“Y/n?” Wanda brings you back to focus. Apparently you’ve just been standing in front of the gate. 

“He’s working late,” is all you say, sliding your key into the lock and swinging the gate open. Your mom may have dragged your dad through the ringer in the divorce, but he had bounced back alright. Or this was all Agatha’s money. 

“What about your stepmom?” 

You shrug. “No clue what she does. But there were no cars in the driveway so we’re probably fine.” You lead her into the backyard, throwing your school bag onto a chair and stripping off clothes. Before Wanda can say anything, you jump into the pool in only your bra and underwear. “Come in!” You shout happily, splashing water at your friend. 

Wanda finally lets go of her reservations and follows suit. The two of you splash around for what feels like forever, just enjoying the sun and each other’s company. You were so thankful for Wanda; she had been with you through everything and was truly the best friend you could’ve asked for. 

“Do you want something to drink?” you ask, after you guys have just been floating for a while. 

“Um, sure. Could I have some water?” 

“Yeah, I’ll be right back.” You get out of the pool, not even bothering to dry yourself off even a little, and enter the house through the sliding glass doors that your dad should really start locking. You pad through the hallway to the kitchen before filling a cup with water and grabbing two of the beers from the two packs on the shelf in the fridge. You doubt they’ll even notice. You shut the refrigerator door, whirl around to go back outside, and jump. The beer bottles and the cup of water you’re holding slip out of your grasp and smash onto the floor. 

Agatha Harkness is standing right there, watching you amusedly. “You’re soaking wet, darling.” The innuendo makes your stomach heat up ever so slightly. And then you realize what’s going on.  

“What are you doing here?” you ask, panic running through you. If she tells your dad–

“I could ask you the same thing. Shouldn’t you be at school? Can’t be skipping during your senior year.” Her eyes glide up and down your scantily clad body and you suddenly get the urge to wrap your arms around yourself. 

“I–”

“You’re bleeding, sweetheart. Let’s get you cleaned up.” You finally look down at the ground and see a mess of broken glass and alcohol. And blood, from your right leg. The pieces of the beer bottles must’ve cut you. 

“Oh, shit,” you say distractedly, watching the way the red streams down your leg and collects in a pool, mixing with the beer. 

“Come on, we can take care of this later,” Agatha says, helping you carefully step over the pile on the floor. She chews her lip while you watch her try to decide where to put you. You can’t lay on the white couch because you’re actively dripping with blood, and it’ll be too uncomfortable for both of you to have you stand. So you hop onto the counter top, staring at her expectantly. “That works,” Agatha agrees and grabs some paper towels. 

You stick your right leg out and she gently applies pressure with the paper towel, trying to stop the block. You then realize just how close the older woman is to you. She’s standing in-between your legs, her face only about half a foot away from yours. You can’t stop yourself from looking down at her lips. She glances at you and your eyes immediately dart up, but you don’t think it’s quick enough based on the knowing smirk that’s playing on her lips. You’re still practically naked and goosebumps are lining your skin, both from the cold and from her.

You clear your throat. “You’re not, uh, gonna tell my dad, are you?” You wince as she presses down harder on a cut. 

“What, that you skipped school, broke into our house, went swimming in our pool, and then was underage drinking?” Her grin is wolfish and you inwardly snarl. 

“Technically, I didn’t drink,” you point out. She raises an eyebrow at you. You slump down. “Please don’t tell him.” Your voice is soft, but pleading. She finally takes off the paper towel and assesses the damage to your leg. The cuts don’t look that deep. You doubt you’ll need stitches. 

“Let me get some bandaids and then we’ll talk.” She leaves the room and you quickly bolt outside, where Wanda is still lounging in the pool. 

“There you are!” she exclaims. 

“You gotta go,” you hiss urgently. “Agatha’s here and she already caught me but I don’t want you to get in trouble.” At the mention of your stepmom, Wanda jumps out of the pool, frantically throwing on her clothes. 

“I knew we shouldn’t have cut class!”

“It’s a bit too late for that now, Wanda.” You root around in your bag for your keys and thrust them into her hand. “Take my car and then I’ll call you when I need you to come pick me up.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes, now go!” You usher her out the gate, sprinting back inside, the sliding glass door closing right as Agatha comes down the stairs. She’s holding a pack of bandaids.

“I’m guessing you also don’t want me to tell your father about your friend?” 

Fuck. “Agatha, please. You can tell him about me but please don’t mention Wanda.” 

She beckons you to follow her back to the counter and she silently smears neosporin over your cuts before bandaging them up. You ignore the way her hands feel on your leg. 

“I won’t tell your father,” she says finally. You breathe a sigh of relief and almost throw your arms around her. “If you clean up the mess you made in the kitchen, and if you let me take you out to dinner tonight.” 

Your brows furrow in confusion. You obviously get the cleaning up part. But the other part..? “Why dinner?”

Agatha smiles and pats your thighs, still close to you. “I want to get to know my step-daughter a little better, darling. And your dad has a dinner thing to go to, so I’m all alone. I won’t tell your dad about your little afternoon escape or dinner. It’ll be our little secret,” she says teasingly, winking at you. Your mouth runs dry. 

“Yeah, dinner sounds good. I need to run to my mom’s house and maybe change my clothes,” you say, also needing to get your car back and take Wanda back to school. You leave that part out though. Her hands, still on your thighs, travel up, closer to your center, and your breath quickens. And then she squeezes and steps back, you missing the warmth of her already. She offers you a hand and helps you get down from the counter. “Pick me up at 6?” you ask.

She smiles and nods. “It’s a date.”