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greengoblinswifey · 2 months ago

Note

i was the one that asked if you writw dark stuff. and tysm for replying, you are so incredibly sweet💕🎀

So, could you write a dark fanfic with Nicholas or Father Charlie (you choose lol) with noncon and maybe dv? like, reader meets him and one of her family members owns him something and he like? uses her instead? if thats okay, could u do it rlly darkkk?

tysm and ily!!! 💕💞

Nicholas Chavez x Fem!Reader

summary— your father fucked nicholas over and he kidnaps you to get his payback.

warnings— EXPLICIT CONTENT. kidnapping, manipulation, extreme degrading, praise kink, face slapping, male masturbation, crying kink, face fucking, CNC, unprotected sex, knife play, death threats, violence, bondage, mentions of bruises, choking, double penetration with knife handle, anal, breeding kink, stockholm syndrome.

a/n— i think this is quite…dark and thank you🫶🏽hope you guys enjoy, def stepped out of my comfort zone for this, requests are open!

Nicholas had always known your father was a powerful man, a producer and director with the kind of influence that could turn anyone into a Hollywood legend. They had made a deal, Nicholas would land two starring roles that would launch his career to the next level. The first film had given him some visibility, but no real money, thanks to your father’s manipulation of the contract. The second role was supposed to be his ticket to true fame and fortune. But then, it all fell apart. Your father broke his promises, cutting Nicholas out in favor of his own friend, Cooper Koch. Worse yet, he’d seized some of Nicholas' property as “leverage” during the filming, draining him financially and leaving him furious and betrayed.

Your father had underestimated just how deep Nicholas’ anger would run. He wanted what was rightfully his, and if he couldn’t get it through negotiations or agreements, he’d find another way. That’s when he learned about you—the daughter your father doted on, especially since the loss of his only son, your older brother, who was meant to be the family heir. But Nicholas wasn’t here for empathy. He wanted revenge, and he knew exactly how to get it.

You agreed to go on a date with Nicholas, the rising star you had met and grown fond of, without a second thought. But as you sat in his car, something felt off. He was silent, his gaze hard as he gripped the steering wheel, ignoring your attempts at small talk.

“Where are we going?” you asked, noticing that he’d missed the turn toward the restaurant.

He didn’t answer right away, his jaw clenched tightly. Finally, he murmured, “Change of plans.”

You felt a prickle of unease and glanced around, trying to piece together where he might be headed. The buildings grew sparse, and the trees thickened on either side of the road, casting shadows as the sun dipped lower. “This doesn’t look like the way to any restaurant,” you said, your voice faltering.

He turned to you, eyes cold. “It’s not.”

A chill ran down your spine. Panic set in as he accelerated, the car speeding down a winding road that led into the dense woods. “Nicholas, stop the car,” you demanded, reaching for the door handle, but he locked it before you could react.

He didn’t look at you, but his voice dropped to a menacing whisper. “You think your father can cross me and get away with it? That he can just toss me aside like I’m nothing?” His grip on the wheel tightened. “This isn’t a date, sweetheart. This is payback.”

Your heart pounded as you pulled at the door, the lock refusing to budge. “You don’t have to do this! Whatever he did-”

“He took everything from me,” Nicholas snarled, his eyes darkening as he drove deeper into the woods. “Everything I worked for. The fame, the fortune, my properties, my pride. And now? I’m taking something from him.”

In a desperate attempt to escape, you kicked at him, your fists pounding against his arm. He barely flinched, his focus unbreakable as he finally pulled up to a secluded cabin, hidden by towering trees and thick brush. You barely had time to scream before he leaned over, his hand covering your mouth.

“Quiet,” he hissed, his voice cold as he tightened his grip. “You’re going to make this harder on yourself sweetheart.”

With a swift motion, he hit a spot on the side of your head, and darkness began to cloud your vision. The last thing you saw before losing consciousness was his dark gaze.

When you woke, your hands were bound to a bed frame in a dimly lit room, and your head throbbed. The dim light filtered through the cracks in the cabin walls, casting eerie shadows. He was there, leaning against the doorframe, watching you with a look that was almost satisfied.

“Comfortable?” he asked mockingly, tilting his head.

You struggled against the ropes, glaring at him. “You’re fucking insane! My father won’t just let this slide!”

He laughed, the sound sharp and humorless. “Your father will do exactly what I want, or he’ll never see you again.”

As you struggled against the ropes, glaring at him. “My father won’t stand for this. He’ll ruin you,” you spat, words filled with venom. “You think your career’s over now? It’s nothing compared to what he’ll do when he finds out what you’ve done.”

His smirk faded, his gaze darkening. In a flash, he crossed the room, sending a chill through you. He leaned down, his face mere inches from yours as his hand struck yours with force, the impact whipping your head to the side.

“Careful with that fucking attitude,” he hissed, his voice low and dangerous. “If you want to get through this in one piece, you’d better be a good little girl and play along.” His mouth curled into a mocking smile as he added, “Maybe I’ll let you go if you can manage that.”

A spark of hope flickered across your burning face, but his mocking laugh snuffed it out. “Oh, don’t look so hopeful,” he sneered. “I own you now. The sooner you accept that, the easier this will be for you.”

The next few days, Nicholas seemed almost amused by your resistance, feeding off your energy as he reminded you just how little control you had. You played along in the way he wanted you to, letting him hold you close as he told you about the disgusting things he wanted to do to you and your father and whatever other sick games he had in mind. Whenever he would see you cry and resist him, your acrylics digging in his back and leaving welts, you noticed the prominent bulge it left in his pants.

One morning, he threw down a newspaper, its headline blaring the news of your disappearance and the national search underway. Your father’s influence had reached every corner of the country, and law enforcement was relentless. Nicholas caught your glance, raising an eyebrow with a smirk. “Guess Daddy dearest is worried,” he taunted, feigning innocence. “How touching.”

You burst into tears, unable to hold it in any longer, you missed your father and you wanted to be away from the psycho standing in front of you. He laughed in your face, slowly taking out his impressively long and hard cock, pumping it as you cried harder. Disgust filled you as you watched him moan the harder you cried. He was getting off to your pain and somehow—deep inside, watching him get off to you turned you on.

“Keep fucking crying sweetheart, you’re gonna make me cum so hard.” Disgusted, you turned your head away, refusing to look at the sight before you but he just chuckled. You opened your eyes feeling the bed dip and you looked up at him, seeing him with his cock above you.

“Open your fucking mouth,” he growled, his stroking become more frantic.

“You’re disgusting,” you spat. He stopped stroking his dick to slap you in the face with it, earning a soft whimper. Obeying him, you opened your mouth, squeezing your eyes shut at the man before you shoved his length into your mouth, thrusting, before he shot his load down your throat.

“Fucking hell, that’s a good fucking whore, take all my cum,” he groaned, grabbing a fistful of your curls and bucking his hips.

As soon as he let you go, your head snapped to the side, shame filling you.

Nicholas leaned in, his expression cold. “You’re mine now,” he said, his voice steady and unyielding. “You’ll make up for every single thing your father took from me. And once I’m done, once I’ve taken back what’s rightfully mine, he’ll be begging for my mercy.”

You glared back, forcing yourself to hold his gaze despite the fear tightening in your chest. “You’re delusional if you think you can control me or him,” you said, your voice shaking with defiance.

Nicholas laughed, unphased. “We’ll see. By the time I’m finished, you won’t even want to go back to that man.” He leaned in closer, lowering his voice. “Because I’n going to break you like a bitch and you’ll be begging to stay with me.”

He watched your expression, almost amused, as you struggled to maintain your composure. “You’ve done well so far, taking my cock down your throat,” he continued, his tone dark but oddly approving. “Maybe it’s time I marked you as mine.”

You swallowed, your mind racing. No matter how much you fought, the lines between fear and something you didn’t want to admit were beginning to blur. He seemed to sense it, a satisfied smirk crossing his face as he leaned back, leaving you to confront the uncertainty.

A gasp left your lips as he gripped your throat, tearing your dress off you. He was a predator and you were his prey. His eyes scanned your almost bare body, licking his lips as you quivered in fear. If your hands weren’t bound to the bed you would’ve tried concealing yourself.

“Please stop,” you whimpered.

“Shut the fuck up,” he snapped, “don’t make me gag you, better yet I won’t, I want to hear you beg me to stop then I want to hear your little moans when you realize I’m making you feel good.”

Your lips quivered as you fought back tears, refusing to give him the satisfaction he wanted.

“Now, I’m going to untie you and you’re going to take off your underwear like a good little bitch. If you try anything stupid, I’ll fucking kill you, understood?” he said, reaching for your wrists.

Slowly, you nodded, the threat rising fear inside you but a sharp smack to the face jolted you. “I said do you fucking understand me?”

“Y-yes Nicholas.”

He untied your wrists, and you looked down to see them black and blue. Slowly, you carried out his request, only having to take off your underwear as you unfortunately went to the ‘date’ not wearing a bra.

“Now spread those legs.”

A soft whimper left your lips and you complied, knowing exactly what the psycho would do to you if you refused. “Good girl.” He reached for the bedside table, taking out a sharp knife from the drawer. “Now, once again, if you think of doing anything stupid, I’ll slit that pretty throat and still fuck it.”

He held the knife lightly against your throat, his fingers dipping between your legs as you trembled. “If you’re so fucking scared and I’m a psycho, why are you soaked? Why the fuck are you wet?”

Shame overtook you, and you squeezed your eyes shut, just wanting it all to be over. You thought about your father, your dead brother, anything to take your mind off what was about to happen.

“It’s gonna be okay princess, I’ll take good care of you if you take good care of me.” He knelt on the bed, making sure you were mouth level with his cock. “It’s time to take good care of me, open up that mouth and I swear to god if you use teeth, I’ll use the knife to knock out every last one of them.”

Reluctantly, you opened your mouth, and he slowly pushed his big cock into it. Your mouth was wide open and you were gagging on it, trying your best to breathe. He began snapping his hips forward, his cock continuously going down your throat and through it all, he kept the knife pressed against your throat.

“Fuck, you really have a mouth on you,” he chuckled, “you’re suck a good cock sleeve, I’m going to enjoy using you like the whore you are.”

His thrusts became rougher and you could hardly breathe and soon, he held you by your curls, pushing your head all the way down until your nose was on his pubes. “I’m gonna cum bitch, swallow my fucking load, don’t let it go to waste.”

You couldn’t even spit it out if you wanted to. He released down your throat, the action making you cough around his dick as he made sure to milk every drop inside your mouth. “You did so good for me baby, I know you’re enjoying this.”

You shivered as he used the cold handle of the knife, rubbing it up and down your folds. Shame bubbled inside you as you heard the unmistakable sound of squelching noises telling you exactly how soaked you were.

“What a disgusting slut, your pussy is practically gushing for me, are you seriously enjoying this?” You looked away embarrassed, heat rising in your cheeks.

A gasp left your lips as you felt the handle sink into your pussy. “Nicholas, please, no,” you begged, disgusted at the sight below you.

“What the fuck did I tell you? Shut the fuck up!” he screamed at you.

Your pussy clenched around the handle as he began fucking you with it faster, the pain soon subsiding and being replaced by pleasure. Trying to hold back your moans seemed futile as he began rubbing your clit and the handle hit a certain spot inside you.

“You’re getting off on this? Fuck, you’re much more of a whore than I thought. If you cum on the knife’s handle I’ll know for sure you were just asking for my cock, you’re fucking asking for it,” he chuckled, darkly.

Hearing his words, you pressed your lips together, containing your moans and trying your hardest not to cum. He only chuckled at your attempts, the handle speeding up inside you and the squelching noises becoming louder and louder. You wished you were deaf in that moment, at least you wouldn’t have to endure the shame of knowing being manhandled by your kidnapper was turning you on.

“Cum for me whore, I know you want to, you won’t be able to stop yourself forever.” Your body betrayed you and as soon as the words left his lips, you soaked his hand and the handle inside you.

“Oh my fucking god, you’re disgusting,” he laughed, looking down at his soaked hand, “did you really just squirt from me fucking you with a knife blade?”

It felt like your world was crumbling as he laughed mockingly and your pussy twitched, slowly gushing.

“Well then, that was easy, I think you’re ready for this big, fat cock to fuck that tight pussy.” He dragged you by your legs, pulling you flat on your back and rubbed the tip up and down your pussy.

“Nicholas, you don’t have to do this, my father will give you back everything he took, I promise. Y-you can let me go, please, I won’t tell.”

“Oh shut up,” he said, slapping you on the mouth, “you don’t get it do you? I own you now. You’re mine. He took everything away from me and I’ll take and use you instead.”

Not giving up, you tried to beg more, “Please don’t, I’m begging you.”

“If you didn’t want me to fuck you, you wouldn’t have squirted for me. You wouldn’t have been soaked like a whore from my touch. Surely you want this, surely your body knows you better than your dumb little brain does. Just lay there and take it, you’ll like it.”

Maybe he was right. If you didn’t want it, why else would you have been wet? Why did you cum? Your body would’ve refused him. Maybe this wasn’t so bad, maybe he just wanted to make you feel good like he did before.

A scream erupted as he pushed his thick cock inside you, giving you no time to adjust. “That’s it bitch, scream for me.”

Your gasps and screams grew louder as he began pounding into you, the bed frame smacking against the wall and your tits bouncing. He took up the knife and traced it along your jaw, admiring how you looked taking him. He brought it down to your tits, increasing his pace and making you moan and scream even louder for him. The intensity of it all was unbearable and you could already feel the impending orgasm.

“I need you to remember you’re nothing but a pussy for me to fuck, a cock slut. You feel so fucking good clenching around my dick.”

He began using the wet handle to rub your clit and you knew it was over for you. Gripping on to his toned biceps, your jaw fell open, loud moans leaving you as you came all over his raw cock inside you. Curse him for not at least using a condom.

“That’s it, let it all out, let out those slutty moans too. You should be a bitch in porn with the way you squirt and moan,” he laughed breathlessly.

He swiftly flipped you onto your back, but instead of pulling your ass up to him, he pressed a bit of his body weight onto you as you lay flat on the bed, slipping his cock inside your pussy once more.

“Spread your pussy for me,” he demanded.

He began pounding into you as you shamefully had your hands on your ass spreading yourself for him. “You should see just how wet you are, but I’m sure hearing it tells you all you need to know.”

You felt so full with him pressing down on you, thrusting roughly, having no regard for the mix of pain that accompanied the pleasure. But, deep down, you were enjoying it. You enjoyed the way he manhandled you, the way he spoke to you like you were nothing, the way he was fucking you like you were just a flesh light.

“Oh god your pussy is just sucking me in, clenching so tightly around me, cum for me again bitch.”

Unable to spread your pussy for him any longer, you gripped the sheets as you came hard around his cock. He continued fucking you through your high, making sure you felt everything. Making sure you knew who was fucking you and who gave you such an intense orgasm.

“My turn. I’m gonna cum inside you, breed this pussy. You’re gonna be all swollen and pregnant, then that baby is gonna be my lucky ticket to yours and your father’s fortune,” he laughed.

“Please, no, I can’t— I’m not on birth control,” you cried out.

“Oh fuck, do you feel my cock throbbing? That’s even better.”

Your protests proved futile and he filled you to the brim. The warm feeling of his load inside you making you moan in content.

“See? You’re just a slutty bitch who likes getting her pussy fucked. You know what else needs to be fucked? That tight little ass.”

Horror spread across your face. No one had ever fucked you in the ass before. He spat on your asshole then used your juices and his cum from your pussy to lubricate it, pushing it in with his fingers. You winced at the unusual intrusion. He continued fingering your ass, shoving the lubricants inside and prepping you for his cock.

“Couldn’t stop looking at that tight asshole when you were spreading for me. I just had to have it. You were practically begging for it.”

Maybe he was right, why else would you have spread yourself? Of course he would’ve seen your tight ass and wanted to fuck it too. How could you be so stupid?

“Get ready bitch.”

“Please—”

Your pleads fell on deaf ears and he pulled your ass up to him, pressing his hand into your back so you could arch for him. Slowly, his big cock began slipping inside your ass, inch by inch. He was more generous with it than your pussy.

“Fuck baby, this ass is so fucking tight, I know for goddamn sure I’m the first to fuck you in it.” He was right.

He began pounding harder as your ass opened up for him. You felt so full, you didn’t know you could feel more full until he pushed the handle of the knife into your pussy.

“Oh my god,” you moaned, the intensity making you see stars. All that was in your head was pleasure and cumming again.

“There she is, that’s my girl,” he beamed, “now bounce that ass back on my cock and this knife.”

Obeying immediately, you bounced your ass back. Your moans were so loud, the whole woods could probably hear. You didn’t care anymore. You couldn’t deny how good he was making you feel, how he was hitting all the right spots inside you. His thrusts met your ass and he rammed the handle inside your pussy over and over.

“Squirt for me baby, squirt and I’ll fill this ass up.”

You nodded frantically, still throwing your ass back to him and you screamed, your orgasm overtaking you like you’ve never felt before.

“Good girl, that’s my bitch, now beg, beg for me to cum inside your ass.”

“Please, fuck— please cum inside my ass, I need you to, please do it,” you begged.

He smirked, throwing the knife on the bed and slapping your ass as he groaned loudly, his load spurting in your ass. He held you in place and soon pulled out, watching as his cum leaked out of both your holes. He ruined you. You were his.

As he pulled out and fell beside you, you instinctively snuggled into his side, a million degrading thoughts running through your head.

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vnti-vnxiety-recs · 3 months ago

Text

Baby, I'm a rockstar (M)

★ PAIRING: Mark x Reader

☆ WORD COUNT: 12k

★ GENRE(S): Band! AU, Exes to lovers, Angst, smut, fluff

☆ SUMMARY: After your boyfriend breaks up with you to focus on his music career, you devise a scheme to get back at him by attending his band’s open auditions. To both your surprises, you end up joining the band. It would be foolish not to seize this opportunity for some well-deserved revenge.

★ ☆ WARNINGS: Unprotected sex, cigarettes, alcohol

☆★ NOTES: Its crazy to think this is my first Mark fic, i hope you all enjoy cause boy is it a ride.

Things were changing: the seasons shifting, the academic year progressing, friendships evolving. Change was a constant force, often leaving you breathless, but in the midst of it all, there was Mark—your anchor, your unwavering constant. You thought your relationship would never change, that it would always be a fixture in your life. You believed you and he would last forever

Until you didn’t.

You gave your friends a quick wave as you headed toward the familiar black hatchback. You often teased Mark about it, calling it his "mom car," and he’d laugh it off, insisting it was just right for all his gear.

Sliding into the passenger seat, you felt that familiar rush of comfort wash over you. You leaned over and planted a quick peck on his cheek. “Hey babe,” you call out.

Mark looks a little stiff, offering a forced smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Hey, how was class?” he asks shifting the car into drive and pulling away from the curb.

“It was good! Do you have anything planned later?” you ask, trying to gauge if he's up for hanging out.

“Um, yeah, no… I’m meeting up with the guys, I think,” he replies after a pause.

You watch him, your gaze fixed on his side profile as he focuses on the road. Something feels off. Normally, Mark would be all over you—his hand would be wrapped around yours, and at the red light, he’d lean over to pepper your face in kisses. But today, there's none of that. Just an uneasy silence hanging between you like a thick fog.

The light turns green, and he accelerates, leaving you with a curious pit in your stomach. "Is everything okay?" you ask, trying to break the tension.

“Yeah, of course,” he says a little too quickly, his gaze still locked on the road ahead. But you can sense there’s something he’s not saying, and it gnaws at you.

“Hmm,” you respond softly, a quiet acknowledgment that feels heavy in the air. The rest of the ride passes in silence, an uncomfortable hush that wraps around you both.

When Mark parks in your driveway, you step out of the car, ready to shake off the tension. But instead of following you inside, he leans against the car and pulls out a cigarette. He still hasn’t looked at you.

“Are you not coming in?” you ask, a hint of confusion creeping into your voice. He knows he’s not allowed to smoke inside, so it feels frustrating that he’s choosing to linger outside like this. You just wanted to curl up with him for a little after a long day, let the warmth of his presence wash away the weight of your worries.

He takes a drag, exhaling a cloud of smoke that drifts lazily into the evening air. “I just need a minute,” he replies, his eyes fixed somewhere beyond the driveway.

Your heart sinks a little. “A minute?” you whisper to yourself, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. You want to push him to come in, to bridge the growing distance between you. Instead, you stand there for a moment, hesitant on the threshold of your own home, unsure of what to do next.

“We should break up,” he says after blowing a billowing cloud of smoke into the air, his voice flat.

You want to laugh, a harsh, incredulous sound that seems so out of place. This has to be some kind of joke, right? But the way he's been acting leaves you fumbling for certainty. You take a hesitant step towards him, the pit in your stomach growing heavier. “Mark? What are you talking about?” you say, your throat tightening painfully.

“I don’t have time for a relationship. I need to focus on my music. We’re starting to take off, and it’s getting more demanding. It wouldn’t be right to drag you along,” he explains, finally meeting your gaze. The way he looks at you is so pitiful it makes your blood boil, filling you with a blend of anger and heartbreak.

“You fucking asshole,” you sneer, fury clashing with the sadness pooling in your chest. Every emotion you’ve been holding back erupts in that moment. “YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE! HOW COULD YOU!” you cry out in anguish, your voice wavering.

Mark takes a step toward you, his hand instinctively outstretched in a gesture of comfort. But you take a step back, needing to distance yourself from him, from the whirlwind of conflicting feelings. Your heart races as the world around you seems to spin.

Without another word, you turn and rush inside, tears threatening to spill over, rage and sorrow colliding in a chaotic storm within you. You close the door behind you, leaning against it, trying to catch your breath. You can’t bear to look back at him.

You hated Mark Lee’s guts.

Your phone buzzes with a notification—open auditions for a lead vocalist.

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, not expecting Mark’s band to seek a replacement so soon. Although you unfollowed Mark ages ago and deleted all your posts together, you must have neglected to unfollow the band’s page. Perhaps it was a subconscious choice, a reluctance to sever the last connection to Mark. Regardless, you can't help but admit that you still find yourself stalking the page from time to time.

You remember their recent post announcing the departure of their lead singer, and for a moment, the temptation rises to text Mark, taunting him with a message like, "Haha, the thing you left me for bites you in the ass," but you hold back. Still, you can't shake the feeling, and as you scroll through the band’s photos, anger bubbles within you; this band—the very reason he chose to leave—seemed incapable of holding itself together. In a burst of impulse, you grab your jacket and keys, not fully aware of why you feel compelled to go.

As you pull up, the screech of mic feedback cuts through the air, causing you to wince as you approach the commotion. Peeking inside the garage, you spot a small crowd gathered around the center of the garage. Behind the microphone, someone stands, belting out a song you don’t recognize. Judging by the expressions of the band members, it’s evident that this person is struggling to find the rhythm.

You scan the crowd, but there's no sign of Mark, and the unfamiliar vocalist finishes just as your eyes land back on them, leaving the mic open.

"Anyone else wanna give it a shot?" Renjun, one of Mark’s bandmates, calls out. This prompts a wave of glances around the room; it seems everyone else has already had their turn. Suddenly, the attention shifts to you—the unexpected newcomer.

Renjun's eyes widen when he recognizes you, and you realize you have only moments before he runs to tell Mark you're here. Determined, you step up to the mic and introduce yourself, quickly glancing at the drummer, Jaemin. You whisper the song you want to sing, and he nods, finding the beat. As your voice fills the garage, your hands tremble around the mic, the nerves washing over you—you had just wanted to see Mark and maybe annoy him a little, but now you find yourself standing here, uncertain of what you're even doing.

As your final note hangs in the air, a few scattered claps emerge, and when you look up, Mark’s piercing glare meets yours. Once the performance wraps up, and before Mark can get his hands on you, the band members gather inside to discuss. Engaging in conversation with another girl while sipping refreshments from a cooler, you find yourself anticipating what the outcome of the meeting will be. You try not to feel ridiculous for sticking around, you doubt they will choose you but you're secretly hoping to rile Mark up a bit more afterwards.

When the trio of Renjun, Jaemin, and Mark steps out, isn't until now that you realize Jeno had been missing today. Your heart races with curiosity.

"We have decided we want to move forward with Y/N," Renjun announces, and as applause breaks out from the other participants, the girl beside you gives an excited thumbs-up.

Initially stunned by the announcement, a rush of satisfaction fills you when you notice the look on Mark's face—his expression is a mix of annoyance and frustration. Its clear as day that he did not want you to join. You’re full of pure joy, knowing that your presence is likely to ruffle his feathers a bit.

"Nice to meet you, I'm—" Renjun begins, but is abruptly interrupted as Mark rushes past him, grasping your wrist with urgency.

"Sorry, I just need to talk to her for a moment," he says, tugging you into the house. The door closes behind you, drowning out the sounds of the others. As he finally turns to face you, he looks bewildered, as if grappling with thoughts he cannot fully articulate.

"What are you doing here?" he questions, brows furrowed.

“I heard about the audition, obviously,” you reply, grinning.

“The joke’s over, okay? You can go home now,” Mark says. “I know you're only joining to get back at me!”

“Hmm, not quite. I'm also joining to sleep with Jeno,” you reply, shrugging nonchalantly as you lean against the wall, trying to mask the flutter of nerves in your stomach. "Where is he by the way?"

Mark crossed his arms, an eyebrow raised in skepticism. “Right, because you couldn’t possibly be interested in the music.”

You can’t help but smirk. “Oh, please. I live for music. But let’s be real; having a shot at a date with Jeno is a nice bonus. Just imagine how awkward that’ll make it for you when you see us together.”

His face twists up, but you can’t quite tell if he’s more irritated by your boldness or the idea of you moving on. You relish in the tension, eager to remind him of everything he's lost. After all, he left you for the band, and now you were back, ready to disrupt his world just like he had disrupted yours.

“You're childish and you're wasting my time. I know you don’t really care about this,” Mark snaps, exasperation etched across his face.

“It doesn’t matter what you think,” you retort, arching an eyebrow. A smirk creeps onto your lips as you continue, “ I'm sure your band members agree. They voted me in, remember?” You watch as he clenches his jaw, trying to reign in his frustration. “And the last time I checked, you needed a singer—and now you’ve got one.”

“You—” Mark starts, but then he stops mid-sentence, clearly grappling with his emotions.

“Huh? What’s that?” you prompt, leaning in slightly, your voice dripping with mock sweetness. “Exactly.”

For a moment, the air crackles with tension. You can see the conflict in his eyes, the part of him that wants to lash out versus the part that knows you’re right. It’s almost satisfying to watch him struggle, to see the realization that his band’s fate now rests in your hands. The smile on your face widens, fueled by the thrill of the challenge and the satisfaction of reclaiming your voice—both in music and in this ongoing rivalry.

“Let me catch you slip up, I’ll give you hell” He spits, shoulder-checking you on his way out, heading back to the garage.

Oh you were going to have so much fun fucking with him.

You step into the garage, trying to portray an air of confidence even though you feel anything but. You probably should have let it go by now, telling them to pick a different vocalist because you had successfully gotten what you came here for but a part of you still wants to annoy Mark.

It’s the same place where the auditions went down, and while you’re familiar with Jaemin, you've never actually been to his house before then. It’s massive, which makes you wonder why some rich kid is wasting his time with an indie band. You already know all of Mark’s bandmates, but it’s just casual acquaintance stuff.

The garage was spacious with two big doors, and string lights draped across the ceiling, casting a cozy glow as twilight settled in. You clear your throat to announce your presence, and in the far corner, you catch a glimpse of Mark, totally engrossed in tuning his guitar. All you can see is the top of his head as he bends over, adjusting the pegs and strumming an experimental note. He looks so cool, completely in his element, and you can’t help but admire his passion for music. But before your thoughts drift into those bittersweet memories of him writing songs for you and strumming gentle tunes to help you drift off, you're jolted back to the reality that it was that same love for music that pulled him away from you.

Renjun was busy connecting his keyboard and tapping out a few notes, while Jaemin lounged in the back behind his drum set, chuckling at whatever video had caught his attention on his phone. No one seemed to notice you, and it made it tough to muster up any confidence with all their attention elsewhere. Just as you were feeling a bit invisible, Jeno strolled up beside you, holding his bass and grinning brightly.

“Hey, glad you could make it! Mark never told us you could sing,” he said, nudging your shoulder playfully before pulling you into a friendly hug.

You were more familiar with Jeno since he went to the same high school as you and Mark, and even though he was closer to Mark, you’d hung out enough to consider him a friend too.

“Jeno, hey!” you reply, returning his warm hug. Mark finally glances up at the sound of your voice and his expression shifts, hardening as his eyes land on you.

Renjun quickly approaches with an apologetic smile. “Sorry I didn’t see you come in. I’m so glad you could make it.” he says, exuding friendliness.

Meanwhile, Jaemin glances up from his phone, his demeanor indifferent as he remains seated, not offering much acknowledgment. Your gaze shifts back to Mark, who stands from where he was perched but hesitates, unsure if he should come closer or keep his distance, the tension thickening the air between you.

“We’re gonna get started as soon as Jeno sets up,” Renjun announces with enthusiasm. “I can show you around Jaemin’s house. I’m not sure if you’ve ever been here before.”

You nod. “Yeah, I need to use the bathroom before we start,” you reply, lying a bit to buy yourself some time to gather your thoughts.

Grateful for his friendliness, you let him guide you through Jaemin’s impressively large home. His adorable rambling brings a small smile to your face. When you finally reach the bathroom, he asks if you need help finding your way back and you shake your head. “We’ll be waiting in the garage,” he says before turning to leave.

Closing the door softly behind you, you splash some cool water on your face, trying to cool down from the warmth outside and the feelings brewing within you. While you wish you could suppress your feelings of animosity, seeing Mark again stirs something deeper. You channel that negative energy back into focus; you were here for one reason—to ensure Mark Lee paid for what he’d done.

You came back out refreshed, and to your surprise, the rehearsal went a lot smoother than you had anticipated. Renjun was particularly helpful, guiding you through the melody and key of the song as you practiced with the group. His enthusiasm made it easier for you to focus, and together, you worked through complex sections, laughing at the occasional off-pitch note or missed cue.

As the hours passed, you found yourself relaxing and joking around with Jeno and Renjun; their playful banter made the atmosphere feel lively and fun. Jeno, with his infectious sense of humor, cracked jokes that had everyone in stitches, while Renjun chimed in with witty commentary that kept the mood light. Despite Jaemin’s reserved nature, you found comfort in his quiet presence, appreciating the way he seemed to absorb the energy around him without needing to contribute much verbally.

However, Mark remained distant, effortlessly chatting with everyone while giving you the cold shoulder. He kept conversation with you brief and to a minimum. His laughter echoed through the garage, and while it should have made you feel at ease, it only intensified the tension that simmered beneath the surface. You focused on the music and tried to push aside your thoughts about him.

“Wanna go ahead and wrap up?” Jeno asks the group, eliciting sounds of agreement that weave through the garage as members start packing up.

You stand off to the side, feeling a bit out of place since you didn’t know how to help. Trying to be useful, you awkwardly approach the microphone and its stand, glancing around for a spot to place them.

“Where does this go?” you finally muster up the courage to ask Mark, your voice cutting through the uneasy strain between you two since the audition. The memory of his harsh words after that day rushes back, making your stomach churn as he takes the equipment from you without a word, setting it aside with a silence that feels heavy.

Just as the tension begins to settle, Jeno calls you over, his bright energy pulling you back into the moment. “Wanna grab something to eat after this?” He asks.

You take a moment to admire his long hair that frames his face, the dark eyeliner accentuating his eyes, and the way his fitted black shirt showcases the muscles in his arms. Your thoughts stray as you realize you’ve taken too long to respond, his brow quirking up in a teasing manner that makes you flush. “Yea— Yea, I’m free,” you finally reply.

“Anyone else down?” Jeno shifts his bass over his shoulder, glancing around the group.

“Nah, I’m hanging back to game with Jaemin,” Renjun calls out casually, leaving just the three of you.

“Mark?” Jeno asks, turning his attention to him. You catch a flicker in Mark’s eyes—an unmistakable mix of reluctance and jealousy. It’s clear he doesn't really want to go, but even more than that, he’s uncomfortable with the idea of you and Jeno being left alone together. A wicked smile creeps onto your lips as you silently revel in the unfolding dynamic, enjoying the tension in the air.

“Yea, I’ll probably just get a fry or something,” Mark mumbles.

Jaemin and Renjun head inside while you and Mark climb into Jeno's pickup truck, settling into the front seat and leaving Mark to sit in the back. The ride is filled with laughter as you catch up with Jeno, his jokes echoing through the cabin, but when you glance in the rearview mirror, you notice Mark’s jaw tightening in annoyance.

Upon arriving at the small diner, you head inside and take a seat next to Jeno, leaving Mark to sit alone on the opposite side of the table. As the waiter approaches with menus, you dismiss yours and share Jeno’s, animatedly discussing what to eat. You “accidently” kick Mark under the table, looking up at him with an insincere apology.

As the waiter takes your order, the table engages in light conversation. When you mention the cat you recently adopted, Jeno laughs and shares that he has a cat allergy.

“But didn’t you have a cat in high school?” you remind him, prompting him to share some adorable stories about his old cat.

You pull out your phone just as Jeno and Mark launch into a discussion about guitars, and you quickly text Mark,

Are we just going to keep ignoring each other?

You’re surprised you hadn’t deleted his number yet. He chuckles at something Jeno says, but when his phone lights up, you see him check it. He doesn't reply and faces his phone down, prompting you to roll your eyes.

When your food arrives, you all enjoy it. After eating, you excuse yourself to the bathroom to wash off the ketchup and salt from your fingers. Just as you finish in the single-stall restroom and open the door, you find Mark leaning against the opposite wall. He catches sight of you and, without a word, pushes you back inside, shutting the door behind you and pinning you against it.

“You wanted to talk to me, right? Well, here I am,” he says under his breath, trying to maintain his cool. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he asks.

“I was using the bathroom,” you reply, rolling your eyes, which only frustrates him further.

“You know what I’m talking about. You’re mad at me, so you’re making it your life mission to get on my nerves.”

“Why would me going out to eat with Jeno bother you?” you counter, tilting your head in faux confusion.

“Because you’re our singer now, and if you and Jeno get mixed up, it might cause unnecessary drama.”

“Right, and not because I’m your ex, and you clearly still think you have some kind of dumb possessive claim over me,” you shoot back.

Mark pushes himself off the door with a huff. "We,” he says, motioning between the two of you, “are not a problem. I don’t care what you do with Jeno. I’m just worried about our band.”

This band could burn for all you cared. You hated the softness that crept into his voice when he talked about his stupid band.

“If you came in here to try to convince me to quit again, you can leave now because I’m not going anywhere. Not everything is about you, Mark. I have my own reasons for joining the band.” You turn to adjust your appearance in the mirror, catching his eyes through the reflection as he steps up behind you, holding your gaze.

“If you think you’re going to win whatever little game you’re playing, you’re wrong,” he says before storming out. After a few moments, you follow him outside. Glancing through the diner's wide glass-pane windows, you see Jeno already waiting in his car as Mark hops in, taking the shotgun seat. The bell chimes as you step out the door, and you jump into the back of Jeno’s pickup truck.

“So, are you gonna quit?” your friend Jungwoo asks.

“I mean eventually. I’m sure they could easily find someone to replace me; I’m not even that good,” you explain, catching your friends up on the Mark drama.

“Waste his time like he wasted yours,” Jennie shrugs.

You were in the campus library working on classwork when you spotted them. They had pulled up some chairs and before you knew it you had put your classwork to the side and started gossiping.

“I mean, yeah, but I still feel a little bad for his members; they’re really cool.” You say.

“Guilty by association,” Jennie rolls her eyes.

“Speaking of band members, are you really gonna sleep with Jeno?” Jungwoo asks.

“I was just talking shit, but he’s been looking really good recently. Like, really good.” You laugh just as your phone rings. Looking down at the caller ID, you see Mark's name flashing.

You’re confused until you glance at the corner of the screen and notice the time—you’re an hour late to practice. You had planned to be a little late today, maybe like fifteen minutes just to irk him, but this was too much.

“Shit, I’m late! He’s going to kill me,” you scramble to gather your things.

Sure, you’re upset with Mark, but it doesn’t feel right to make the others wait hours for you. You answer his second call as you exit the library and head to your car.

“Where are you?” Mark’s icy tone sends a chill down your spine.

“I lost track of time. I’m on the way,” you respond.

“Just hurry up,” he replies, and you can hear his frustration.

You arrive in a flurry, apologizing profusely as you enter the garage. Everyone is already set up and practicing; thankfully, they seem unfazed by your tardiness. Mark looks annoyed but his face is always like that lately. Feeling the tension in your own chest ease a little, you prepare for practice.

You approach Renjun during a break. He flashes a welcoming smile and invites you to sit beside him at the keyboard. “Want to learn something new?” he asks, and you nod eagerly.

He guides your fingers over the keys, patiently explaining the simple notes of Mary Had a Little Lamb. You laugh with him as you fumble through the melody but his encouragement keeps you motivated.

While you’re engrossed in the lesson, Jeno returns from the bathroom, a playful grin on his face. “What’s going on over here? Teaching her the basics, Renjun?” He joins in, teasing you about your lack of musical skills on the keyboard.

Later, as practice wraps up, Jaemin eagerly insists that you check out the photos he took of his cats on his phone, showcasing their hilarious antics. You can't help but smile; getting to know him has revealed just how interesting and quirky he truly is.

Practice is over and you gather your stuff and head to your car. You’re about to pull off when you hear a tap on the glass. You roll down the window to see Mark standing there, and you can’t help but feel annoyed; he only seems to speak to you when no one else was around. It was no secret that you two used to date.

“I do not need a lecture, Mark. I just want to go home.”

“If you’re going to be late, just call,” he replies, prompting you to roll your eyes.

“What did I just say?” You argue, not wanting to hear the rest.

“I was nervous when you didn’t pick up. I thought something had happened.” A concerned look crossing his face.

“Yes, sir. Now can I go?” You refused to apologize again.

Without warning, Mark leans in, gently squeezing your face. “Be on time,” he warns, his gaze daring you to talk back.

You hated that he knew your weaknesses, and as you nodded your head obediently, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. The drive home felt longer than usual as you willed your heart to calm down, replaying the way he had looked at you with authority. Each beat echoed in your chest, and despite your frustration with him, you couldn’t shake the flicker of warmth that accompanied your thoughts of Mark.

From that day forward, you were never late to another practice, but you found other sneaky ways to annoy Mark. Your main tactic became shamelessly flirting with Jeno, who, unbeknownst to him, was the perfect partner in crime for teasing Mark. Whether it was sharing inside jokes or playfully bumping shoulders, every moment spent with Jeno set Mark's expression to irritation. You reveled in the way Mark's brow would furrow and his jaw would tense, all while you enjoyed the easy camaraderie with Jeno, blissfully unaware of the storm you were brewing. While you did continue to press his buttons there were times when you would find yourself laughing together and enjoying easy conversation. But more times than not, you were bumping heads.

You had invited Jeno over to watch a movie, and now, curled up under the covers, your limbs tangled together felt both thrilling and comforting.

As your time together increased, so did the closeness between you two; nights spent cuddling became an unspoken tradition, sharing warmth and soft laughter. Though you hadn’t crossed the line into sex, you had participated in some heavy make out sessions that had ignited an undeniable chemistry between you. Yet, a part of you recognized the boundary he maintained, an unspoken agreement likely influenced by Mark's presence in both your lives.

As Jeno's hands began to wander, the tension in the room shifted dramatically; his cold fingers sent shivers racing up your spine as they slipped beneath your shirt, making you acutely aware of every sensation. When he leaned down to kiss you, you melted into the moment, returning his kiss with fervor as you moved to straddle his waist. Looking down at him from your elevated position, you couldn't help but smile at the warmth in his eyes. But your phone buzzed on the nightstand, pulling your attention away. You reached for it, settling back against Jenos lap, making him groan, a sound that only added to the heat of the moment.

“What is it?” he asks, his hands caressing your thighs as he waits for you to return to him.

Mark had texted you: Hey, is my old electric guitar still in your closet?

“It’s nothing,” you say, quickly closing your phone.

Leaning back down, you rejoin your lips, grinding against him and drawing out quiet moans. His hands grip your waist, pulling you closer as you both chase the little pleasure you’ve allowed yourselves. The bed creaks as he shifts you under him, reconnecting your mouths in a slow, needy kiss. Your hands grip his shoulders, softly calling his name as your legs wind around his waist, feeling the delicious friction from the fabric of your pajama pants as he grinds into you. He kisses you deeper, biting your lips with a groan while your hands wander, slipping under his shirt and igniting a fire within you both.

He peppers your lips with a few longing kisses before planting one last, reluctant kiss before pulling away. “I’m going to the bathroom,” he calls out as he gets up.

While you wait for him to return, you pick up your phone and start to text Mark, planning to let him know you'll bring his guitar to the next practice. But as you tap the screen, you realize you’ve accidentally started a FaceTime call with him.

On the screen, you see Mark saying something, but you can’t hear his voice due to your volume being down. He looks visibly upset, and you have a sneaking suspicion that he heard everything and knows you were making out with Jeno. Whatever he’s saying isn’t very nice, so you quickly end the call before Jeno come back.

Shortly after, Jeno returns, and you both settle back into the movie night as if nothing had happened.

If things seemed to be getting better with Mark, after that incident, everything was back to square one. It truly was an honest mistake, and you don’t regret it one bit, even if the backstage atmosphere is thick with tension. Today, Mark was giving everyone the cold shoulder while you prepared for your first gig together. You were already nervous, and his attitude definitely wasn’t helping!

Jeno tries to lift the group's spirits with a brief but heartfelt speech, encouraging everyone to have fun and enjoy the moment before you all head on stage. You hum the melody and sing the lyrics of a few songs under your breath, trying to engrain them in your memory. But when you finally step onto the stage and are met with a sea of eager faces in the crowd, a wave of anxiety crashes over you, and you nearly freeze in place. The bright stage lights blind you momentarily, and despite the pulsating energy around you, all you can focus on is the crushing weight of silence as you realize you missed your cue. As the lead singer, you were supposed to introduce the band and set the tone for the night, but instead, you stand there awkwardly, heart racing, grappling with sudden performance jitters.

What had you gotten yourself into?

Just as panic threatened to consume you, Mark stepped in smoothly, grabbing the mic with a confident smile. "We are Limitless, and we hope you enjoy our music tonight!" His voice rang out, energizing the crowd and breaking the tension that had settled over you.

Jaemin laid down a steady beat on his drums, and the music surged to life, pushing you into the rhythm. You made it through the first half of your set without any major hiccups, and with each song, you felt your confidence swell. By the second half, you were fully engaging with the crowd and getting them hyped up with your energy.

As you delivered the closing lines at the end of the show, a wave of exhilaration washed over you. The cheers from the audience ignited a sense of pride.

“That was so much fun!” you exclaim as everyone heads backstage to pack up.

Once you’ve finished, you all exit through the back door, where a van is waiting for you. A small group of girls is gathered nearby, chatting excitedly.

“Omg, you guys were amazing tonight!” they call out as you start loading your equipment into the back of the van.

You assume they’re fans, and since you’re still new, most of them direct their attention toward the other members. Some of the band members pause to chat briefly with the girls, while others sign autographs. You finish loading the van and hop in. After a few moments, Renjun gets into the driver seat and starts the engine. Jaemin, Jeno, and Mark are still outside chatting with fans.

You and Renjun discuss some aspects of tonight’s performance that could be improved when the back door swings open and Jeno and Jaemin slide in.

“Where’s Mark?” you ask, eager to leave.

“He’s not coming, he said to go ahead,” Jeno replies, buckling his seatbelt.

You glance out the window and spot Mark engaged in a deep conversation with one of the girls. She’s a bit too touchy, playfully resting her hand on his bicep as she laughs and jokingly shoves him.

“Is he going home with her?” you ask, disbelief creeping into your voice.

“Who knows. I think she invited him out for drinks.” Jaemin replies, with a yawn.

“Is someone feeling jealous?” Jeno teases, a smirk on his face.

You shoot him a glare as you buckle yourself into your seat, directing your attention back to the window in silence as Renjun pulls away. The car ride back to Jaemin’s house passes in silence, with you not speaking to anyone the entire way.

The next day during practice, Mark strolls in, greeting you with an unusually bright smile. You return the gesture but your heart sinks when your gaze falls to the hickey marring his neck.

Mark’s grin only widens, seemingly oblivious—or perhaps all too aware—of the effect it has on you.

That day, your hands are practically raw from gripping the microphone tightly, and your voice comes out more aggressive than usual as you sing. Each note feels sharper, almost like you’re pouring all your frustration and jealousy into the music.

It’s evident that Mark is in high spirits today, more cheerful than you’ve ever seen him since you joined the group. You can tell he knows you’re jealous, and he’s reveling in it, flaunting that bruise on his neck, knowing it would get under your skin.

Payback was a bitch.

“Come on! It’ll be fun!” Renjun insists over the phone, his excitement evident even through the speaker. He’s trying his best to convince you to spend the night at Jaemin's house with the rest of the crew. Everyone has noticed the growing tension between you and Mark, and you know this is Renjun’s not-so-subtle attempt to get you two to sort things out.

“I really can’t, Junnie. I have classwork I need to finish,” you reply, a hint of guilt creeping into your voice. but t’s true. You’re drowning in assignments, and the time you’ve been spending with the boys was the main cause to blame.

“I promise, whatever you have, we’ll help you finish it!” he insists.

“Don’t say ‘we’ if it’s just going to be you helping me while Jaemin and Jeno are being obnoxious.”

“Mark would help if you asked,” Renjun offers, his tone teasing.

“Mark hates me,” you rebut, a soft sigh escaping your lips.

“No he doesn't idiot. You two are a match made in heaven,” Renjun says, speaking with an air of knowing, as if he’s privy to some cosmic truth about the two of you that you’re both missing. “You need to unwind and relax; we all do.”

After a moment of internal debate, you relent. “Fine. I’ll come over,” you say, reluctantly agreeing. You gather your things, making sure to pack your laptop and all the papers you need to complete.

When you arrive at Jaemin’s house, the atmosphere is chill and relaxed. Everyone is sprawled out in the living room, laughing and joking. You set yourself up at the bar counter, trying to create a little space for yourself amidst the chaos.

Renjun approaches you, his eyes widening as he looks over the stacks of papers you’ve brought. “Holy shit, this is a lot,” he exclaims, his playful demeanor turning serious as he sees just how buried you are in work.

“Yeah, it’s overwhelming,” you admit, feeling a little self-conscious. “This is going to take all night”

As the rest gather around, they look down at the jumbled mess of papers you've laid out. It feels a little intimidating under their scrutiny, but you remind yourself you’re all in this together—sort of.

“You’re never behind on your work. Is it because of the band?” Mark asks.

“I’m trying to balance it. I just got a little behind,” you reply, trying your best to organize your thoughts and papers into manageable piles, hoping to start focusing.

“If you need help, you can always ask. If the band is too demanding, you don’t have to stay,” he adds, and you can feel your temperature rising.

You whip around to face him, your frustration boiling over. “It’s not too much, and I’m not going anywhere! Will you stop trying to get rid of me?” you snap, the words spilling out before you can stop them.

Mark raises an eyebrow, rolling his eyes. “That’s not what I’m trying to say,” he responds, his voice a mixture of exasperation and disbelief.

Jeno and Jaemin, sensing an argument brewing, exchange quick glances before making a hasty retreat, dodging the potential fallout of the impending conflict.

“Hey! That’s not what we’re here for, guys! I will separate you two!” Renjun threatens, trying to interject some humor into the escalating situation.

“I’d be down to watch a good fight,” Jaemin calls from the kitchen, trying to keep things light as he chucks snacks into his mouth. Jeno hits him but fails to hide his own snicker.

Mark raises his hands in defeat, and for a moment, you think he’s going to walk away, leaving you in your sea of homework. But to your surprise, he sits down next to you, grabbing a textbook from the pile with a determined look in his eyes. There’s something reassuring about his presence.

For the next three hours, Mark and Renjun dive into your assignments, helping you to tackle the mountain of homework that had been weighing heavily on your shoulders. The air is filled with a mix of focused silence and bursts of laughter as the boys throw in playful comments and jokes between serious explanations. You can practically feel the burden lifting as they tackle subject after subject alongside you.

Mark’s arm rests casually around the back of your chair, a gesture that feels both familiar and intimate. You can’t help but feel a warmth spreading through you as he guides you through a complicated math equation, explaining each step with patience. You admire his intelligence—after all, he had dropped out to dedicate himself fully to the band, but he was still one of the smartest people you knew.

“Okay, so if we look at it this way…” he says, pointing to a specific part of the equation, his gaze focused on the page. You catch yourself stealing glances at him. When you shift a little closer, trying to get a better look at the page, you notice how the scent of his cologne envelops you.

“Right here, see?” Mark points to the page. “You isolate the variable first, then you can solve for x.”

Your heart races slightly from being so near to him. “Got it,” you reply, trying to focus on the math and not the fluttering feelings in your stomach.

“Try to solve this next one on your own,” he says and he watches you silently as you work through the problem. When you solve it correctly, you look up at him with a smile. Your faces are a lot closer than you thought and you can feel yourself being drawn into him. The way he looks at you ,then down at your lips has wild thoughts racing through your mind.

The moment is interrupted by Renjun returning—snacks in hand and an excited grin plastered on his face. “Look what I found!” he exclaims, breaking the tension.

You and Mark part as Renjun’s presence shifts the atmosphere in the room, and the unspoken connection between the two of you dissipates like a puff of smoke. Mark clears his throat awkwardly, shooting you a shy smile as you hastily close the textbook and begin to clean up your scattered papers, using the busywork to ground yourself in the moment.

“Thanks, guys, you helped a lot,” you say, avoiding Mark’s gaze as you pack your things. “I think I can finish the rest later on my own.”

“Finally! Now can we start the party ?” Jaemin calls excitedly from his spot on the couch, a wide grin plastered across his face, clearly eager to kick off the night’s festivities.

You were sitting in Jaemin's backyard, swimsuits on and alcohol in hand, the air thick with summer warmth and laughter. The music pulsed through the space, blending with the shouts of your friends as they playfully stumbled around in a tipsy haze. Jeno had just pushed Jaemin into the pool, the splash echoing loudly, and the moment Jaemin climbed out, he grabbed a water gun, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he aimed it at everyone. You and Renjun laugh, sprinting away as Jaemin charged after you, water gun blasting away. You were laughing so hard that tears pricked your eyes as you glanced back just in time to see Jeno slip in the grass while trying to escape Jaemin’s wrath. The whole scene was pure chaos, and you were loving every second of it.

“Where’d Mark go?” you wondered aloud, glancing around for his familiar figure. But as the chaos continued, you didn't have much time to dwell on him.

“Look out!” Renjun suddenly shouted, pulling you back just in time to avoid a full blast of water aimed your way byJaemin. You both took off, laughter spilling from your lips as you ran away.

Jaemin's eyes narrowed playfully as he called out, “I think I saw you laughing earlier! What was so funny?” He was slowly stalking towards you, a toothy grin stretching as he prepared to pounce.

“No, Jaemin, stop! I don’t want to get my hair wet!” You yelled, both terrified and amused, knowing full well the inevitable outcome of his playful threats.

You and Renjun take off running again. In your frantic escape, you accidentally lose him as you ran into the house, your feet carrying you instinctively away from the chaos outside. Before you knew it, you had found refuge in the garage. String lights twinkled above, casting a soft glow that illuminated every corner of the space. It was a stark contrast to the chaotic party outside, and for a moment, you paused to catch your breath. That’s when you heard it—the soft strumming of a guitar.

Mark was sitting in the corner of the garage on a stool, his guitar resting comfortably in his hands. He wore nothing but his swim trunks, revealing sun-kissed skin that glistened under the lights. He looked relaxed, almost completely lost in the moment as his fingers moved effortlessly over the strings, creating a melodic sound that filled the otherwise quiet space with a calming warmth.

Caught off guard, you stood still for a moment, mesmerized by him. The sight of his focused expression, the way he seemed to pour his soul into the music, made your heart flutter in a way you hadn’t expected. The soft melody comforts you and you realize it was the song he had written for you when you were together.

You are my rockstar

Without you, I'll always feel alone

When I'm lost, you guide me home, yeah

His voice, slurred but passionate, carried throughout the garage and it pulled you closer. You're standing in front of him by the time he notices your presence, his fingers fumbling over the strings of his guitar as his voice abruptly cuts off.

“I’m sorry, I was—” you begin, uncertain of what to say given the haze of drunkenness clouding your thoughts and the fear of what might come out next.

“Wanna learn how to play?” he asks, and the way his eyes glimmer in the dim light makes them resemble little boba pearls.

Before you can reply, he grabs your hand and pulls you to sit in his lap, the warmth of his chest enveloping you as he settles the guitar across your lap. You feel the heat of his breath against your neck, and with his guidance, you position your fingers over the strings, feeling the cool texture of the guitar under your hands. His hands resting possessively on your hips while he hooks his chin over your shoulder to watch you

“Now strum,” he instructs, his voice coming out in a breathy whisper.

Your heart races as the weight of his warmth settles against you, his body a comforting presence that sends a pleasant shiver down your spine. You glance over your shoulder, catching a glimpse of his sheepish smile.

“Uh, okay,” you stutter out, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Just like that,” Mark says softly, his breath brushing your ear, sending another shiver through you. “Now strum gently.”

You take a deep breath, trying to focus despite the way your heart beats like a drum against your ribcage. As you give the strings a gentle strum, a rich sound fills the small garage. The note rings clear, and you can’t help but smile.

“Good girl. You’ve got it,” he encourages, shifting his weight slightly to make more room for you.

However, as he moves, the guitar slips a little from your grip, and you adjust your seating to hold it steady against your thighs. You feel his hands gripping your waist, and his breath comes out harsh against your neck.

“Fuck, baby. Be still for me,” the way he says it framed by a desperate plea has you sucking in a harsh breath. You can already feel a pool of slick forming in your panties from the pet names you haven’t heard in so long.

You stand up, and the look Mark gives you is devastating, filled with longing and confusion. Setting his guitar down on its stand, you approach him again, straddling his waist and settling onto his lap. Neither of you moves; instead, you lock eyes, the connection palpable as his hands trace your sides, the sensation of his fingers on your bare skin warms you against the cool chill in the garage. When his hands travel down to grip your ass, pulling you closer to grind against him, it feels like the final straw.

You surge forward, kissing him with an intensity he isn't afraid to match; both of you are drunk and the kiss is deliciously sloppy. In this moment, nothing else matters except the way he touches you. You slip your tongue into his mouth, and it tangles with his in a fierce battle of passion. The garage is filled with the sounds of wet kisses, moans, and desperate pleas—the usual music of the night replaced by the melody that you and Mark create as you grip and caress each other.

Your hands couldn't keep still, first tangling in his hair, then exploring the contours of his shoulder blades, and finally tracing down the front of his body. You needed to memorize every detail before he was taken from you again. A moan escapes your lips, feeling Mark’s hands fondle your breasts, igniting a wave of desire.

Memories flood back of when he walked in covered in hickeys, a sudden surge of possessiveness coursing through you. With determination, you trail kisses down to his neck, biting and sucking at the sensitive skin, marking him as yours in a way that speaks louder than words. The urgency and heat of the moment envelop you both, and you lose yourself in the intoxicating rhythm of your bodies.

Mark groans in pleasure, fingers pulling at the strings of your bikini top, ready to take things further when the garage door creaks open and Renjun stumbles in, his eyes slightly glazed.

“We were looking for you guys,” he announces, and you're grateful for his drunken state because he doesn't mention the compromising position you two are in. “The pizza is here, come inside,” Renjun calls casually before heading back in.

The air crackles with unfulfilled hunger as you exchange a look, half-amused and half-frustrated, knowing you’ll have to put a pause on the fire that had ignited between you.

Pizza boxes and cans of soda are strewn across Jaemin's dining room table. You and Mark sit side by side and Renjun sends you a questioning look, curiosity flickering in his eyes. You all munch on pizza while some movie buzzes in the background, mostly forgotten amidst the laughter and playful banter. You try hard to focus on the film, desperately pushing thoughts of Mark away, but it’s proving to be a challenge.

“Not gonna lie, guys, I’m about to knock out,” Jeno announces after his third slice of pizza, stretching exaggeratedly in his seat.

“I call the couch!” Renjun declares, raising his hand.

“Where can I sleep?” you ask, glancing around the room.

“I have a guest room you can crash in,” Jaemin replies, his mouth still full of pizza, making it slightly harder to understand him.

“I can crash with Jaemin. I think the guest bed is pretty big,” Jeno adds, a teasing smirk creeping across his face. You raise an eyebrow, unsure of what he’s hinting at.

“Yeah, the couch is small—no room for anyone else,” Renjun adds in helpfully.

“But the couch has enough room for—” Jaemin winces mid-sentence, and you can only imagine who kicked him under the table. “No room! The couch has no room!”

“I don’t mind sharing the bed,” you say, understanding the unsaid implications hovering in the air.

Mark's chuckle sends a pleasant tingle down your spine, and the way he glances at you, intrigue in his eyes, makes your heart race a little faster. The air is thick with unspoken words, and you can almost feel the teasing energy crackling between your friends as they watch the scene unfold.

“I mean, if it’s okay with you,” he says.

Trying to keep your composure despite the butterflies dancing in your stomach, you reply, “Sure, I don’t mind!” You reply a little too enthusiastically.

The others snicker, and you shoot them a mock glare as you take a sip from your soda to hide the warmth creeping into your cheeks. Jaemin’s smirk grows wider, and Renjun’s eyes twinkle with mischief as they look between you and Mark, clearly enjoying the dynamic unfolding before them.

You place a pillow between you and Mark as you finally settle into bed, trying to create a comfortable distance. He sends you a bemused look, shaking his head in disbelief. “We’ve shared a bed before, what’s with the pillow? Afraid I’ll bite?” he jokes, a playful glint in his eyes.

“Nah, I’m afraid I might,” you reply, shooting him a devilish smile that makes him laugh, the sound warm and inviting.

As laughter fades, a comfortable silence envelops the room, punctuated only by the sound of your breathing and the gentle rustle of sheets. You lie back, staring at the ceiling, lost in thought. The pillow feels like a weak defense as you become acutely aware of the brush of his legs against yours, a gentle reminder of his presence. You can feel his gaze, unwavering and intense, smoldering just off to the side. Reluctantly, you glance over, and your eyes lock with his; there’s a vulnerability there that catches you off guard.

“I miss you,” he says, causing a weight to settle in your chest. The weight of his words hanging in the air, thick with nostalgia and longing.

It sends shivers down your spine, pricking at the old wounds you thought had healed. You feel your heart constrict as your fists clench involuntarily. You take a breath, trying to steady yourself, forcing your voice to remain cool. “You broke up with me, remember?” you reply, your tone layered with a mix of defensiveness and hurt as you shift slightly, seeking to create a physical distance that reflects your inner turmoil.

Mark’s expression shifts, a shadow passing over his face. “I know,” he replies, the weight of the past hanging between you like an invisible thread. “But I thought… I don’t know, maybe we could talk about it? About us?”

“What’s there to talk about?” you ask, trying to keep your voice steady. “It was complicated then, and it’s complicated now.”

“I get that,” he says softly, his tone earnest. “But I don’t want to just pretend like it never happened or that we don’t have this connection. I… I still love you.”

You feel an ache at the back of your throat, past feelings of anger and betrayal surging anew. “Mark,” you start, searching for the right words, unsure whether to push him away or pull him closer.

“I just want a chance to at least figure things out. To see if we can be in each other’s lives again without it being so… awkward.” he replies, his gaze steady.

“I just don’t want to get hurt again,” you admit, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

His expression softens, and he nods slowly. “I understand. I don’t want that either. But I think we owe it to ourselves to at least try, right?”

The air feels thick with possibility, and as you lock eyes with him, you wonder if this is the moment where everything could change, or where it could all unravel once more.

You feel a lump forming in your throat, and for a moment, silence reigns as you grapple with the memories of what once was.

“Mark, you’re drunk. Lets just go to sleep,” you say, clearing your throat, trying to keep your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. You turn over onto your side, putting your back to him.

The air hangs heavy with unspoken words as you stare at the wall, taunted with memories you wish you could forget. You can hear Mark’s soft sigh behind you, but you refuse to turn back. You don’t want to see the look in his eyes.

The room falls into silence, and for a moment, you let yourself drown in your thoughts. You had built walls around yourself to keep the pain out, but tonight they feel so thin, as if they are about to crumble.

As sleep begins to creep in, the stinging in your eyes becomes harder to ignore. Silent tears slip down your cheeks, soaking into the pillow beneath you. You wish you could silence your heart and wish you could push away the longing for what was lost.

Breakfast the next morning is wrapped in a thick layer of awkwardness. The rest of the group exchanges confused glances, just yesterday everything seemed fine. You’re grateful they don’t address the tension directly; there’s a kindness in letting things remain unspoken, an understanding to let things be.

After breakfast, Jeno drives you to your afternoon classes, his comforting presence a small balm on your heart. He gives you a tender kiss on your forehead. “Cheer up, okay? Have a good day,” he says, his voice warm and sincere. You nod, appreciating his attempt to raise your spirits, but the defeated look seems to cling stubbornly to your features, no matter how hard you try to shake it off.

“Okay girl, what’s wrong?” Jennie asks, a worried bite to her tone as she eyes you across the table at your favorite smoothie joint later that day. You know she can see through your attempts to mask the turmoil swirling inside. “Is it Mark? I’ll kick his ass if it’s Mark.”

You sigh, trying to blink away the tears that threaten to fall.

“Oh, he’s dead,” Jennie mutters, standing from her seat.

“Wait! Let’s hear what happened first before you go busting kneecaps,” Jungwoo interjects, laughing softly to lighten the mood.

Taking a deep breath, you gather your thoughts and recount the events of last night, Mark's confession echoing in your mind as you share the details with your friends. They sit in silence, taking it all in just as you had.

When the silence finally breaks, it’s Jennie who speaks first. “I hate him, but I don’t doubt for a moment that he ever stopped loving you,” she says reluctantly, crossing her arms.

“He loves me, but he went and hooked up with some random girl,” you roll your eyes, exasperated. The memory of it stinging.

“Don’t make me defend this man, but you did the same thing,” Jennie counters, raising an eyebrow.

“Whose side are you on?” You shoot back, incredulous. "Besides he broke up with me!"

“Girl, I know you love that man. Let’s cut to the chase,” she insists, her tone direct.

You fall silent at that, unable to deny the truth.

“What she means to say is no matter how far your feet run, your heart will always be with him,” Jungwoo adds, his expression passionate.

You and Jennie both look at Jungwoo, surprised by his words. “OMG, Woo, that was deep,” you say, taken aback.

“Yeah, what the hell? Who are you?” Jennie teases, a playful grin creeping onto her face.

“Very funny. Now let’s stick to the topic at hand,” Jungwoo says, his glare returning to you both. “Do you love him?”

You hesitate, knowing you’re not ready to admit the truth out loud. But the answer bubbles up as if it’s been waiting for this moment. “Yes,” you finally confess, the word escaping your lips before you can stop it.

“Then go tell him before you lose him for the second time,” Jungwoo urges, his voice firm and encouraging.

It's midnight when you finally muster the courage to head to his house. You knock softly on the wooden door, heart racing as you wait for a response. The warm summer breeze flows gently behind you, a soft push from the universe that assures you you’re making the right choice.

After a moment, he opens the door, surprise flickering across his face at the sight of you. “Can we talk?” you ask, voice steady despite the storm of emotions within.

“Yeah, I— yeah," he stumbles over his words, taken aback, but he steps aside to let you in.

You settle onto his couch, fingers fidgeting nervously in your lap, unsure of how to lay your heart bare. Taking a deep breath, you finally find your voice. “Why did you break up with me? Was the band really more important?”

He draws in a breath, searching for the right words. “I know I messed up, and I’m sorry for that,” he says, his voice soft. “It was never my intention to hurt you. I was just…”

You wait patiently, urging him to continue. “It’s not because I put the band before you. It because I didn't want to put you last,” he finally explains, his gaze unwavering. “ I didn’t want to neglect you in favor of the band. I thought you would be better off without me than to be ignored.”

Mark searches your face for understanding, and all you can do is absorb his words. “I love music and I love you, but I was naive to think I could use music to fill the hole in my heart that you left when we broke up,” he finishes.

Tears well up in your eyes, threatening to spill over. “I want us to try again, Mark, but you made me feel like I didn’t matter,” you admit, your voice trembling as the hurt floods back.

Without hesitation, he reaches for your hands, pulling you closer, his warm touch comforting. “You mattered to me then and you matter to me now,” he insists, his expression heartfelt. “I never stopped loving you, I just got lost along the way.”

“Mark,” you whisper, feeling the tightness in your chest begin to ease, “I love you and f you hurt me again, I will break your stupid guitar over your head,” you joke lightly, laughter escaping through a sniffle, a gentle tease after the heaviness of the moment.

A laugh escapes him, filling the room with warmth as he squeezes your hands. “Fair enough. I promise I’ll do everything I can to make this right.”

It feels like a heavy burden has been lifted from your shoulders, and for the first time in what feels like an eternity, your heart feels light. When you look at him, the truth in his words shines clearly in his eyes. As he leans in hesitantly, testing the waters, a spark ignites your courage, and you meet him halfway, pressing your lips against his softly.

The connection floods back to you in waves—electric, familiar, and exhilarating—reminding you of everything you had missed while he was gone. You realize, in that instant, how much hurt your heart had endured in silence.

The way you kiss each other speaks volumes; there’s a desperation in your connection, a silent vow to never part again—even for a breath of air. Mark is your lifeline. His hands cup your face, caressing you lovingly as he deepens the kiss. The heat from the other night returns, but this time it’s clearer, more intense. There’s no alcohol fueling this moment, just raw passion entwined with affection.

As he finally pulls away, you find yourself lost in the soft features of his face and the way his kiss-swollen lips curve into a half-smile, igniting warmth in your chest. You smile back, and an unspoken understanding passes between you as you stand, gently leading him toward his bedroom. He walks you backward until your legs hit the edge of the bed, a flurry of kisses trailing along your neck and shoulder, igniting every nerve in your body. You fall back into the plush covers, sinking into the softness as you scoot back, urging him to join you. He crawls over you, eyes filled with longing and tenderness as he rejoins your lips.

"I'll never forgive myself for hurting you," he mumbles breathlessly against your lips, and for a moment, you feel the weight of his regret settle heavily between you.

You hold his face in your hands, searching his eyes as you reply, “You have plenty of time to make it up to me.” There’s a playful glint in your eyes, an understanding that this is an opportunity for healing.

With a deep breath, he begins to strip you of your clothes. As he kisses down, you realize each gentle kiss is a whispered apology, each caress a promise. He parts from you just long enough to discard his own clothes, the anticipation building in the space between you before he settles between your legs, his dark eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your heart race. As he flattens his tongue against your core, the heat of his mouth seeps deep into your bones, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through you. Your eyes threaten to roll back in sheer ecstasy, but the familiar, smoldering look in his eyes captivates you, sending you a message you read all too well.

Eyes on me

You can’t look away as he licks a bold stripe through your folds, his lips capturing your clit and sucking it into his mouth, flicking it teasingly with his tongue. Each sensation is a delicious blend. It was messy and dirty but he knew that's exactly how you liked it. Overwhelmed, you throw your head back. You arch your back in pure pleasure, but he pulls away instantly.

Taking your hand in his, he interlocks your fingers as the other wraps around your thigh, pulling you closer, his voice a soothing whisper. "Baby."

You know exactly what he wants, and when you meet his gaze again, he rewards you. He dives back into you with fervor, reminding you just how deeply he’s missed your taste. He plunges his tongue deep and thoroughly, before finally pulling away, his face glistening with your arousal. As he licks his lips hungrily and leans down to kiss you, you're eager to taste yourself on his mouth.

You can feel his hips pathetically rutting against you, the rhythm desperate yet filled with a yearning that matches your own. His tip, sticky with precum, glides between your folds as he presses his body into yours from above, a teasing reminder of just how close he is. You need more; you want all of him.

With a daring touch, you reach between your bodies to guide him to your entrance. “Let me have you, don’t make me wait any longer,” you whisper, your words laced with an ever deeper meaning.

He captures your lips in a heated kiss, before he slowly begins to press into you. The sensation is overwhelming; it’s a stretch, and you realize you haven’t been with anyone in a while. Mark's size only heightens the intensity of the moment, making you acutely aware of every inch as he fills you completely.

He pauses, giving you time to adjust, the tension between you thickening as he watches your reactions. “Are you okay?” he asks, breath slightly ragged as he searches your face for any sign of discomfort.

You nod and bite your lip, urging him silently to move. As he starts to thrust, the pace is slow, but each movement stirs a fire deep within you. Your body responds instinctively, arching toward him, craving the intimacy. More, you think, needing him to delve even deeper to reach the parts of you that have ached for his touch.

“More,” you whine.

In response to your plea, his hips begin to quicken their pace, urgency surging through him as his hips snap against yours. The room is filled with the mingled sounds of your breaths, the slickness of your bodies moving together. He thrusts into you with precision, driving deep and filling you completely, leaving you breathless. You claw the sheets, gripping them tightly as he fucks you into the mattress.

"Like this, baby? Tell me what you need…fuck, just tell me and it's yours," he groans, his brows furrowing in desire and determination.

Your voice fails you, caught in the whirlwind of sensations that flood your body with each thrust. You want to tell him how good he makes you feel, how much you love him, how much you've missed this—missed him—but all that escapes your lips is an unintelligible mix of moans and gasps as he grips your hips, anchoring you down with a possessive hold as he pleasures you.

In response, he leans down, his breath hot against your ear, and whispers, “Let me hear you, love. I want to know how good it feels. Let go for me.”

“Just like that,” you manage to breathe out, eyes rolling back in pure pleasure, and it drives him to thrust even harder, eager to send you both over the edge.

And a wave of pleasure crashes over you, pulling you into its depths, you can only grip onto Mark so you don't drown. You can feel his hips stutter and you shiver as his warmth fills you up deliciously.

You finally part, both panting and spent yet glowing with satisfaction. When he rolls over, you find yourself instantly pulled back into his embrace, his strong arms encircling you like a blanket of safety and warmth.

Nestled into the safe embrace of Mark’s chest, you breathe in deeply, allowing the familiar scent—warm, comforting, and distinctly him—to envelop you. he begins to hum a soft tune. It’s a song you know well, one that was often played during quiet evenings spent together. The notes drift effortlessly through the air, and as he hums, you can almost hear the lyrics echoing in your mind. As he reaches the end of the song, sleep finally claims you. The soft whispers of the song echo like a sweet serenade.

When nothing adds up, I'll be your number

You're a 106 and I'm 94, yeah

#mark lee smut #mark lee x reader #mark lee imagines #mark lee fanfic #mark lee #mark lee hard hours #mark lee angst #mark lee fluff #nct dream smut #nct dream imagines #nct dream fanfic #nct dream angst #nct dream x reader #nct 127 fanfic #nct 127 smut #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 imagines #nct 127

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lvmazzy · 1 year ago

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- playing dangerous !

summary: Heesung doesn't hide his favoritism for his girl in the kpop industry.

pairing: manager!heeseung x idol!fem!reader

word/character count: 6K / 6297

warnings: grammatical errors, profanity, implied sex, obscenity, kpop, gg kpop, favoritism, affair between co-workers...

gender: little smut, fluff(?), funny(??)

author's notes: hihi my luvs!! I'm finally back. it's my first time writing something about enhypen and a little more raunchy, sooo I hope you like it! don't forget to give your feedback which is very important. xoxo 💋

It was a fact that Heeseung had a soft spot for you. From the day he saw you practicing in the rehearsal room, he certainly saw potential, charisma and beauty.

Your kpop group wasn't as acclaimed and recognized yet and that frustrated you. But things changed when you met Heeseung, he was a nice, young and extremely attractive guy - sinful thoughts ran through your mind making you dizzy - you saw how excited he was to be your new manager and help elevate your career.

Your dream was to be famous, the fame, the lust, the spotlight was your dream and Heeseung sure promised you all of that.

Things started to look better since you entered into an agreement with Heeseung, he was a great agent and manager. Album sales were up, views were growing, listeners on spotify were increasing and all of this was thanks to your manager Heeseung.

You were eternally grateful and happy for all your manager's work, he even increased your distribution lines on songs, invested in sponsors, in other words, you were the center of everything!

It was late at night when you had just come off another successful stage. You looked radiant, with rosy cheeks, hair on your forehead from dancing, and a breathtakingly flawless outfit.

The ecstasy was visible on your face as you entered your dressing room. Looking at yourself in the mirror, admiring every detail, so wrapped up in the countless compliments, you suddenly felt a pair of hands on your waist which made you jump in fright.

"Heeseung! You scared me!" you say with wide eyes and a hand on your heart.

"sorry my little kitten, I just came here to congratulate you." your stomach filled with butterflies at the nickname making you blush. Then immediately he pulled you closer to himself. In response, you wrapped your arms around his neck.

"you were amazing tonight, I'm so proud of you..." Heeseung whispered as he distributed several kisses with light bites on your neck, making you shiver with every touch.

"Heeseung... we.... can't....." it was almost a whisper. You tried to form coherent sentences, but Heeseung's kisses became hotter and hotter.

"why not? We've done it several times right here, remember?" he let out a nasal laugh after saying that, looking at your face with that seductive smile you couldn't resist. "or do you prefer my house?"

you paused for a moment and thought... your chest rising and falling because of the accelerated breathing. That's when you cracked a mischievous smile that made Heeseung smile too. "I get it, you really are a nasty girl." after saying that, he pulls you out of the dressing room and takes you to his car.

The ride was quiet and calm, you realized how attractive Heesung was tonight. The way he held the steering wheel and how his hair was slightly messy made you bite your lip trying to contain it.

Heeseung quickly noticed your behavior and brought one of his hands to your thigh and began to caress it slowly. He was teasing you, you knew him too well to know that kind of game.

When you finally arrived at his house, you quickly kissed him with all your strength and desperation.

He pinned you to the door and sunk his lips into yours, making your tongues roll together in sync. You gave a soft moan, which made Heeseung go crazy.

"i didn't know you were that needy." Heeseung said with a malicious smile on his face and with one of his eyebrows raised.

"shut up." You pursed your lips again and wrapped your legs around his waist.

Heesung held you and led you to your room, you had come here several times before and never seemed to change.

He laid you down on the bed gently with your lips still attached and pulled away for a moment, making you moan from the lack of contact.

"patience princess." he pulled off his shirt revealing the toned body you adored. It was quite a sight.

Moving closer to you, Heeseung began to distribute kisses on your thighs making you dizzy with pleasure.

"what? Cat got your tongue? Tell me what you want." a smug smile appeared on his lips.

"you..."

"hmm I don't think you've convinced me." he says pulling away leaving you frustrated and looking at your face that was almost closed.

"I want you, please. I want to feel you." you say under your breath making him smile in response.

He kissed you once again hovering above and lowered his lips on your neck leaving several bites. At this point you could only moan softly and try to keep your eyes open.

"you know how much I love this skirt on you, it's a shame we don't need it right now." with one action, he takes off your skirt throwing it in any corner on the floor.

You pull him into a desperate, passionate kiss, as his hands roam all over your body, squeezing and caressing.

He runs his thumb across your lips and caresses them, as you look up at him with the brightest eyes.

"you're a mess, princess." he says laughing as he stands mesmerized by you. In response, you gently kiss his thumb.

Suddenly, you both hear a low purr coming from the floor snapping you out of your trance.

"what...." you say confused.

It's then that a white ball of fur climbs onto the bed disturbing your moment.

"ownn it's just Yoon. I miss you my love." you say stroking and kissing Heeseung's cat several times, making him snort.

"okay okay, now we're at an important moment you know?" he retorts taking the cat off his lap and putting it away from you on the bed.

"i don't think she wants to see what her parents are about to do."

"what if she decides to watch?" he says to you in a teasing way while taking off your shirt.

"that would be pretty weird." you said a little out of breath because of Heeseung.

"I think she'll like that view." he says not stopping to look at you, specifically, your body that was only in your bra.

In response, you rolled your eyes and hit his shoulder playfully making him laugh.

"sorry, but you're always so hot, my star."

"oh my, what a corny nickname!" you say groaning in embarrassment making you both laugh.

"deep down you found it exciting."

"Heeseung if you don't shut your mouth I swear I'm going home."

"okay, I'm done!" he said in yielding, waving his hands in the air. "where were we? ah, yeah, the part where I take off all your clothes. Shit, you're so beautiful!"

"Heeseung focus!"

"right, sorry."

original by @lvmazzy , 2023

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just-a-ghost00 · 2 months ago

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Cupid's heart spread - A dive into your connection with this person

To celebrate the milestone of reaching over 1000 followers on Tumblr, I give to you a reading about the connection you share with the person on your mind using my cupid's heart spread. Now, as this is a collective reading, the energies described may not entirely resonate with you. Since I've been watching Alchemy of Souls lately, I thought this would make an appropriate theme for this reading. So to pick your group, choose one of the following characters from the drama.

Group 1

You overall energy is the 8 of wands. This shows that there is a lot of passion and attraction within the connection and a desire to communicate with one another on a daily basis. You may also both be wanting to close the distance between you, especially if you are in a long distance relationship. Both parties are focused on the other person, which is a good omen for now. This may also translate a form of impatience and wanting to accelerate the process of getting to know each other.

Your energy in the connection | 3 of cups

You are feeling pretty chill about this person. I feel like you are not excessively attached to them but you feel drawn to them on an emotional level and this person's presence in your life makes you happy. You may be considering them as a friend first and foremost, which could explain why you come off as pretty laid back in this situation. Another thing I am picking up on is that this person may not be your only love prospect. Thus, you may not be as worried about the future of this connection as the other person. Your energy feels pretty open, receptive and cheerful. You take things at your own pace and wait to see what this person has in store for you. You may not be excessively active in the connection but you don't close the door either. I feel like in this connection, the other person is more likely to reach out to you first, which you don't disapprove of. But you may not necessarily reach out to this person as often, as you may be interacting with other people, whether on a friendly or a romantic level.

Their energy in the connection | 9 of pentacles

This person also appears as pretty detached from the connection. They are also in a receptive, open energy. But while you are focused on other connections, they are mainly focused on themselves, their well being and their finances. This person's job could be taking a lot of their time, thus they may not be thinking about you as much as they would if they were inoccupied. I feel like this person values themselves a lot and is mature enough not to chase after others. They give you the space to come in if you wish but they will not cry over your absence. Their approach to this connection is very practical and grounded. They come into this connection with an energy of peace and self assuredness, compared to your cheerful and laidback vibe. This is a person that may be currently single and ready to mingle. However, they will not just interact with anybody.

Their fears | King of pentacles

Within this connection, this person fears that if they were to be with you and invest further in this connection, they may lose their independance, freedom and stability. They may fear losing their wealth as well or reputation. This person could come from a wealthy background or an influent family. They could also be very succesful and feel like their romantic endeavours should not take over their life and come before their accomplishments. I feel like this person worked really hard to get where they are and they intend on becoming better and pursuing important goals in their life. They may be afraid that being intimate with someone could hinder their potential, their career and maybe even result in them losing their status or authority. That could be true if you come from very different social backgrounds or cultures. If this person holds an important position in society, they may be afraid that they have to step down from that position to be able to be with you. And that may not be something they are willing to do at the moment.

Their hopes | 4 of wands

At the end of the day, all this person hopes for within this connection is a solid, long lasting and fair relationship that withstands the test of time and trials you may be facing. They look for an equal and a partner that they can build a home with, a legacy that will ensure the future of their children if they have any. They want to leave a mark on this world and share their succes and wealth with their lover. This person not only sees the current potential of your connection but they also project themselves in the future and their future has you in it. They envision a life with you that they can be proud of. This isn't someone that just wants to hit it and then quit it. If they were to take this to the next level, this person wants it to last until their very last breath. I definitely see this person wanting commitment with you, wanting to move in with you, building a family of their own, maybe even working with you on some projects.

Their feelings | 9 of wands clarified by the 10 of wands

This person feels very protective over you. You bring out the fighter in them. They want to fight for this connection, even if it is difficult and asks of them to sacrifice a lot of things. This is a person that is resilient and not willing to give you up that easily. This person will not back down from this connection unless they have tried everything in their power to make it work. Their feelings are so passionate and strong that this person may even be surprised at their own reactions. This is no quitter. I feel like this person is adamant on having you by their side. They may be feeling possessive and jealous to some extent. I believe this person would fight anyone trying to take you away from them, including their own family. They also feel a sense of responsibility toward you. Like they have to stand up for you and be by your side at all costs. This person may feel like they owe you. You could have helped this person at a time of their life where they were very busy and exhausted, where they felt like they were struggling. Hence the protectiveness and passion they have for you now.

Their actions | King of wands

In the near future, this person intends to woe you. Their seduction game will be strong and very clear. You will not be able to mistake this person's intentions as they come off as the king. If you were in a no communication situation with this person, expect sudden communication from them. This communication will be flirty with no doubt. They may compliment you a lot, make subtle references that only you can get, send inuendos. They could be sending you naughty pictures or at least pictures of them that enhance their most attractive traits and put them under a flattering light. So for instance, if this person works out a lot and knows that you enjoy seeing their body at work, they may be posting more pictures of their workout sessions. If they are communicating with you through the phone or video calls, you may notice them smirking, raising their eyebrows, touching their hair and lips a lot. Their tone may be suave and erotic. They may be talking about more mature content around you, which could be a huge contrast to what this person usually talks about with you. Their will be a sudden change in their attitude that will immediately give away their attraction for you. Remember, this person was first coming in as the 9 of pentacles. They were mainly focused on their work and themselves. And now they come up as the King of wands, which is a much more direct and sociable energy. They will be all about you basically and all up in your space.

What they love about you | King of swords

This person loves your communicative skills, your mind and analytical skills, your bratty and assertive attitude. They love that you know how to set your boundaries and ensure that people respect them. They love your maturity, your wit, your knowledge. You may be a bookworm or a history nerd. You may also be very good with technology. Another thing I'm picking up on is how observant you can be. This person loves your eyes and your voice. If you like singing, they could like that about you as well. You come off as very strong and demanding, maybe a bit harsh. Apparently they enjoy your bossy attitude with them and how clear you are about your needs and expectations. They love your sarcastic attitude. How bold you are and unafraid of consequences. Some of you may have simply thrown this person off verbally. Like you could have downright made fun of them or insulted them. You can definitely talk back and keep people in check which they may not be used to. I feel like for some of you, your person is used to people obeying their every command and tending to their needs. However, that doesn't work with you. You challenge them and their views, which keeps them on their toes.

What they wish to say | 3 of swords clarified by the 6 of cups

This person wants to tell you that it's okay not to be okay. That they wish you would trust them a little more and let them in. I feel like many of you have been badly hurt in previous relationships, thus it is now hard for you to fully open up to this person and be at ease with them. They also want to tell you that they are here for you, should you ever feel sad or in pain. They want to tell you that they are hurt too. That they understand you and your fears. That they need time to heal. And you do as well. If you are in a separation with this person, they want to tell you that being away from you is taking a toll on them. That it breaks their heart that they cannot have you now. That though the past may have shown you that people could not be trusted, not everyone is the same and the past is not bound to be repeated. That they can help you and support you, protect you from harm and protect your heart from further damage. That you should not fear them because they are your soulmate and their purpose is to love and heal you, not bring you down.

Group 2

Your overall energy is the Death card. There could have been a major fallout or change within the connection in the past. As this card represents Scorpio, you or this person could have major Scorpio placements in your chart. Either this connection has come to an end or both of you are ending a cycle in your respective lives. This could be a very challenging time for both of you. I don't think you and this person are in contact right now. If that is not your case, then this may be indicating a period of separation that is coming.

Your energy | The World

This energy feels very fixed and abundant. Also very grounded and balanced. It's like your whole presence is telling this person "whatever you do, wherever you are, I am not moving". You are standing your ground when it comes to this connection. You know your worth, you know what you bring to the table. You know that this person matters to you and that this connection has a lot of potential. You know what your feelings are and what you need from this connection and you are doing everything you need, everything in your power to make this work. Whether it be taking your distances or showing this person that you care, you do it all. You radiate love, you embody love, you are embodying your divine self and accepting yourself and this person as you are, as well as the connection. There is a lot of faith coming from you regarding this connection. You have reached your full potential and are doing your part, as far as you are concerned. You may currently be traveling or intend to travel for the purpose of this connection. As of now, you may be at a distance from your person.

Their energy | Page of pentacles

Your person is focused on their learning and career. Their energy towards the connection is much more practical and realistic but also less mature, I feel. This person may be more influenced by their fears than you are. It could also be that they lack experience in relationships and may not know how to proceed with this connection. They are in a dynamic of getting to know you better and learning how to match your expectations so that they can step up to the plate and be on your level. The page here is facing straight ahead. He is coming at the querent with a peaceful and calm attitude, as if he were trying to reach a common ground and offer peace. Maybe this person has come to the realisation that they have things to apologize for and that if they wish for this connection to progress further, they need to come towards you and make you a tangible offer. The page's heart is open however their gaze is hidden. That may be a sign that this person is shy around you and though they are wanting to come towards you, they may be fearful of your reaction and perception of them. They are being careful when it comes to you and taking their time in assessing the situation.

Their fears | Queen of wands

This person may be fearing intimacy and passion. They may be feeling like this connection is moving too fast. I also feel like they may be scared that your intentions are purely physical and that you have no interest in them on an emotional level what so ever. They may be afraid of being used for their looks or status instead of being loved for who they are. They may be afraid that this connection quickly dies out and that is something that they do not wish for. They may also dread your judgement regarding their body and appeal. They may fear rejection when it comes to their body and sensuality. They could fear that you are not satisfied with them, that you do not feel attracted to them despite their looks. They may fear that you do not deem that they are worthy of your attention and energy.

Their hopes | 6 of swords clarified by the King of pentacles

This person first hopes for clarity. They also hope for freedom and peace. They want to be able to move forward, whether it is with or without you. They want to reach a solid ground where they can finally settle and see where they are going. I feel like this person feels lost and overwhelmed within this connection. They do not know where they stand with you and where you stand with them. They hope for security and a solid ground to build on. They hope that this connection will lead to something stable and tangible, long lasting, traditional. They don't want this connection to be a one night stand. At the end of the day, they hope for a deep and fruitful connection based on trust and communication, on reciprocity and clarity. A connection that makes them feel like all their worries and responsibilities aren't that important and cannot bother them. They hope to escape their reality that may be boring or tiring through this connection. They hope for relief.

Their feelings | 5 of swords clarified by page of swords

This person feels confused is the first thing that comes to mind. They feel like they constantly have to fight in order to figure out what your thoughts are, what your needs are. They feel like they constantly have to fight for your attention and that you do not trust them. They feel drained, tired, scared. They feel upset and in the need of clear communication on your behalf as to what you want from them, what you hope for within the connection, what your intentions are on a long term. They feel like they don't know you enough to be able to make an informed decision. They feel like they lack information or that you are blocking them from progressing towards you. They feel frustrated because you can't seem to find a way to get to you or to communicate with you properly. They may be angry at you for something you did or said, or what you didn't do or say. They feel left out and rejected.

Their actions | White Numen

I feel like this person intends to charge forward and get the truth out of your mouth whether you like it or not. This person will not back down until they know what is going on. If you were in a conflict or in a separation, they want to come towards you and start over again. The White Numen is an energy of co creation. They want to build something with you and create with you. So this person intends to give the connection one more chance, even though they don't know where this could lead. They are done waiting and hoping for things to magically resolve on their own, or for you to make the first step because it doesn't feel like you'll be doing so anytime soon. This person is preparing for battle. There's a bull depicted on the card so Taurus season could be significant. There's also a part of the moon cycle being depicted and the first quarter is being highlighted. The next first quarter of the moon is happening in early November (around the 9th). That could also be significant.

What they love about you | Empress

This person loves your femininity and sensuality. They love your nurturing and creative nature. They also love your dedication and patience, your stubbornness and ambition. You are someone that does not give up nor do you back down from a challenge. You take your time and do things your way, no matter if it has to take decades. No matter if people laugh at you. You always remain true to yourself. You are fair, grounded, mature, generous, kind. You do not look down on people but you do not lower yourself either. You stand tall and proud, perfectly embracing your essence and standing in your power. You embody the divine feminine and you can pride yourself on being one hell of a badass. This person loves this about you. They love how confident you can be without having to bring others down. How natural you are and how everything feels so effortless to you. How abundant you are. They love your body, your aesthetic, your tastes in general especially when it comes to your looks. They love your curves. They view you as a goddess. They may feel like you are a taste of Heaven. They admire your strength and grace.

What they wish to say | Knight of cups clarified by Strength

They wish to say that they love you dearly. That they genuinely care about you and wish to be with you. That their feelings are real and honorable. That they hope you can see the good in them and the value in what they bring to the table. They want to tell you that they wish to be your knight in shining armor. That they would do anything for you if you let them. They want to tell you that they feel a fondness for you they cannot explain. That they are willing to step up to the plate and up their game because you are worth it. That they want to romance you and ask you out on a date. That you make them feel invicible and they could conquer the world for you if you asked them. That they only live for your love and attention. And should you let them in, they would make sure that you would never have to regret it.

Group 3

Your overall energy is the 9 of pentacles. I feel like there is a disconnet within this connection and both of you are in a no contact situation. This feels quite recent. Both of you may currently be focused on your respective careers / studies / finances. You may also both be in an energy of wanting to prioritize yourself over the connection because you feel like this isn't going anywhere.

Your energy | 5 of pentacles

You may be missing this person a lot at the moment and feel left out in the cold by them. You may feel like the situation you are in is unfair and detrimental to your security and well being. You feel insecure about the future of this connection and like you are the loser in the situation. You may feel like this person has robbed you of your energy, joy, abundance, heart. You may regret the time spent with this person or the decision that were made. You may be feeling unsupported, ignored, misunderstood. Like your expectations and needs were not met. You feel abandoned by this person and like you can never get back to where you were or what you had. You feel hurt and possibly scared. Used and abused.

Their energy | The Lovers

This person may be at a crossroads. They are face with a choice that they don't know how to deal with. They may already be considering another person as their partner. Or they are downright in a new relationship already. The Lovers also is associated with Gemini. Gemini represents communication. This person may be in an energy of wanting to express to you the reasons of their actions and choices. They may be wanting to reach out to you in order to offer you a dilemma. It could also show that they are indecisive about you. They may be in a status quo state where they are not sure whether they want to keep this connection going or end it all together. Thus they may be playing hot and cold with you, alternating between periods of communication and times of silence. They may also be unpredictable around you and confusing. They feel like they are all over the place and their communication doesn't make sense. They may not even understand themselves right now.

Their fears | 7 of pentacles

This person may be fearful of commitment and intimacy. They are also afraid of the time, effort and dedication it would take for this relationship to prosper. This person may fear that they do not have the patience and strength required to make the relationship work. They also are afraid that all their efforts and patience would be in vain. It's like this person is saying "let's say I give you a chance, what guarantees me that this will work out and last?" ,"what guarantees do I have that you will stick with me?". They're afraid that you cannot be trusted. This person is afraid of being hurt or disappointed. Of being the one that gives their all only to be met with silence. This person's past could still be impacting them to this day.

Their hopes | Black Numen clarified by 10 of wands

This person could be hoping to be set free from this connection and the struggles that go along. They may be wanting for it to be purified and renewed, whether that means that you both go on your separate ways or decide to stick together. They hope for a deep transformation that will completely change the dynamic of the connection so that they are not the only one bearing the weight of the connection and the responsibility of it. They hope that they are not responsible in case the connection would fail to take flight. They hope that they will not be left in the dark with the burden of whatever happened between the two of you, having to deal with the consequences of a possible break up.

Their feelings | Ace of swords clarified by knight of cups

This person feels attached to you. They want clarity from you about your feelings for them because they feel like their feelings are not reciprocated. They feel like they are the only one fighting for the connection. This person feels also hopeful. They think that this connection could work out if both of you are consenting to put the effort needed to see it prosper. They feel protective over you. They also feel like they have more clarity on where they stand with you, what they feel for you and what you mean to them. They have warm feelings for you that they wish to convey. They are thinking about you and the connection, they are thinking of what they can do to come towards you and rekindle the connection. They feel like they can genuinely convince you to give this another try. They know now that their feelings are of a romantic nature and not just friendship. They feel like they want to take the connection to a new level of emotional intimacy. They feel close to you and connected with you despite what may have happened between you. They find it hard to forget you.

Their actions | King of cups clarified by the Queen of pentacles

This person intends to come back to you and express their genuine love and affection. They could be appologizing for their actions and trying to give you closure. They want to be there for you and provide you with the emotional support you need. They wish to heal the connection and nurture it. If this person was avoidant of their feelings in the past, they want to face them in the near future and clearly adress them. This person is willing to be patient and approach the connection with emotional maturity. They are willing to give you the time and space that you need to find your footing and forgive them if that is your wish. They want to reach a common ground and restore peace, understanding and proximity between you. They wish to show empathy and take responsibility for whatever happens next. They are likely to step up to the plate and give you what you need, at their own pace. They want to cultivate the connection and take care of you, give you the attention that you were lacking from them and make it up to you.

What they love about you | Temperance

They love your calm and forgiving nature, your ability to understand others and show mercy. They love how adaptable you can be and how you always see things from a higher perspective. You're a person that never retaliates, no matter what people may do to you. You just mind your own business and remain stable, walking in your lane. They love how mature and balanced you are, how you cautiously proceed in life and balance out other people. You are both very passionate and very nurturing. You can switch from one dynamic to another very swiftly. You navigate relationships easily, not expecting much from people and always giving generously when needed. They love how you don't hold gruges and understand human nature. You are wise beyond your years and extremely graceful. They love your alluring figure, your soft nature and taste for equity in everyting. They love your humble nature, your moderation. How discreet you are and quick to act. You take your time assessing situations in people. You are delicate and charming. You feel very airy to this person, like a creature that comes from a fairy tale. They love your aerian beauty and your mind. Your openmindedness and curiosity.

What they wish to say | 9 of swords clarified by High Priestess

They wish to say that they lose sleep over you and cannot forget you no matter how they try. That they see you in their sleep, whether those are dreams or nightmares. That they are scared of losing you. That they wish they could understand you more and unveil the mysteries of your nature. They wish to tell you that one of the reasons why they stay away from you is because they do not wish you to see their weaknesses and fears. That they don't want you to see their despair and vulnerability. For some of you, this person is dealing with anxiety and/or depression that they wish to hide from you. They wish to tell you that they receive intuitive downloads from you which explains why they cannot move on from you. That they feel connected to you in the 5D. They wish to tell you that the uncertainty of the connection and the future worries them. They also want to tell you that your silence and distance troubles them. They feel like they cannot reach you and that triggers them. A part of them is scared of your power and influence. With the High Priestess I get the feeling that some of you may be psychics or into tarot. That scares you person. They feel like you bewitched them. They wish to say that you're all they think of and that most of the time thoughts of you haunt them at night. They're also afraid that you maybe hiding something from them.

#just-a-ghost #pick a card #pac reading #tarot reading #love pac

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dietcokegirly12 · 1 month ago

Text

“Wanna Go for a Ride?”

featuring satoru gojo ‧₊˚ 𓏲 ˚ʚ ₊✧ ﾟ

‧₊˚ ┈\ō͡≡o˞̶┈‧₊˚ ┈\ō͡≡o˞̶┈‧₊˚ ┈\ō͡≡o˞̶┈‧₊˚ ┈\ō͡≡o˞̶

art credit: @aransmind

‧₊˚ ┈\ō͡≡o˞̶┈‧₊˚ ┈\ō͡≡o˞̶┈‧₊˚ ┈\ō͡≡o˞̶┈‧₊˚ ┈\ō͡≡o˞̶

OMG THANK YOU GUYS FOR 200 FOLLOWERS THOS IS CRAZYY (♡ˊ͈ ꒳ ˋ͈)ilyyyy

tags: street racer gojo, oral (fem), unprotected sex, unsafe sex, dirty talk, petnames, swearing, slight exhibitionism if you squint, riding, you get eaten out his windoww, etc etc

word count: roughly 3k

also guys if u wanna request jjk, id be happy to! catching up on reqs rn, so just bear w me if they're late TᴗT

.˚₊‧˗ˏˋ ─── 🏎️༄ ׂ 𓈒 🏁⋆ ۪ ─── ˎˊ˗‧₊˚. ��── 🏎️

you had attended many races over the course of a successful flag girl career, so of course you had heard of the infamous satoru gojo.

you just never had the pleasure of flagging at one of his races.

until today.

it had started like any other day, you dressed in a skimpy checkered-flag two piece, leaving practically nothing to the imagination as you prepared to start off the race, holding up a black and white racing flag, the metal rod cool in your palms.

steadily, all the thrumming engines lined up next to you, cars of all kinds purring in unison.

by now you were used to the deafening noise, so you didn't pay too much mind when the particular roar of an engine sounded above the rest.

it was only until you looked over your shoulder to check for the signal, that you saw it.

the notorious baby-blue mclaren 720s gt3 that had every girl in the world swooning. and behind it, the cocky white-haired man at the wheel, manspreading across the leather seats, an overconfident grin on his face, with his matching blue helmet slightly tilted up.

his gloved fingers grip tightly around his of course bedazzled wheel, and you see his eyes flick to you, smirk spreading wider.

flushing slightly, you turn back, beginning to sway the flag around, signifying that the race was about to start.

thick smoke plumes out of various flashy tailpipes, and surrounds you in its fumes, as everyone revs their engines, loud roars and vibrations thrumming through your chest.

finally, you raise your arm in a final up-down motion, your full breasts bouncing, and the cars take off.

the moment however, seems to slow, becoming more intimate as gojo's car accelerates past you, your heart thumping as it nearly brushes you, the caress of the smoke following behind him on your body almost sensual. his head turns back to wink at you, and then he's gone, fumes kicking up behind him.

you stare after him as all the cars quickly whiz ahead, the thousands of fans in the crowd cheering loudly and waving signs for countless racers, but you knew, almost without a doubt, that gojo was going to win.

you knew it by the way he had this self-assured, confident air about him, like he had never lost a race in his life, which he probably hadn't. you knew it by the way he looked almost bored waiting for the race to start, only entertained by the sight of you before him. you knew it by the way he only had one lazy hand on the wheel, like this was tedious for him.

and as you wait for the cars to come back, so you can wave the flag at the winner, you find your thoughts wandering to what you had heard about the racer called satoru.

just who exactly was he, anyway?

your other flag girlfriends had always giggled about his looks and charm, claiming he had hooked up with them on various occasions where they had been flagging a race, and now that you had seen how flirtatious he was, you didn't think they were making it up.

satoru was, to put in short, a notorious playboy, known for his attractiveness and ability to go through women as fast as he finishes races, which was fast.

the cheering of the crowd increasing breaks you out of your thoughts, glancing up to see a familiar blue car in the distance, seconds away from crossing the finish line.

of course.

as his car whizzes past you at breakneck speeds, you wave the flag, signifying the end of the race, and the crowd goes wild.

screaming and shouts of praises ensue as he skids to a stop, the other cars far behind. it wasn't even close.

you stretch slightly, dropping your flag back to your side as the crowd slowly begins to disperse among themselves, the race officially over. and it's then that you hear a certain voice behind you, along with the tell-tale humming vibration of a car.

"hey, ya wanna go for a ride, pretty thing?"

you turn, to see none other than satoru gojo in all his glory, helmet cracked open to reveal glossy blue puppy eyes, and slightly mussed-up white hair.

you fold your arms slightly, flag draping down beside you. "you really do think you can get any girl you want, huh?"

he chuckles, the sound low and seductive. "oh sweetheart. i don't think. i know."

you roll your eyes, coming up to lean by his rolled-down window, face inches from his. "you're just so sure of yourself, aren't ya?"

he tilts his head mockingly. "so what if I am?"

you sigh, deciding no matter how attractive he was, this insufferable man isn’t worth it, and turn back around to leave, making it about two steps before his car pulls up in front of you again, effectively blocking you.

"c'monnn, jus' one ride? pretty please?"

you look him over with resignation, knowing he wasn't going to leave until you relented. "fine. one. only because you won."

he grins triumphantly, leaning over to open the door for you, immediately being greeted by the scent of his rich, masculine cologne overpowering your senses as you seat yourself on his over-the-top, plushy leather seats that still had a brand-new sheen to them.

the radio blares loudly some trashy bubblegum pop song that had been trending while he shifts his gear stick back, putting an arm around your headrest as he reverses.

slick.

you can't help but admire the interior of his car though, marveling at how tricked out he had made it with almost every empty square inch bedazzled in glimmering rhinestones. he even has a mini nascar racing flag hanging by the rearview window, the luxury of it all causing you to stare around, taking it all in.

he smirks, not taking his eyes off the road as he maneuvers you two to the racing highway, the low hum of his engine reverberating through you. "like what you see?"

you swallow, admittedly not completely unfazed by the presence of one of the most famous street racers in the world next to you as you nervously place your hands over your lap.

he speeds up, legs spreading wider as he glances over at you playfully. “i asked you a question, sweetheart.”

“i-it’s nice.. you've got a nice ride..” you admit, shifting in your seat as you watch the speedometer continue to climb.

“gonna show ya how nice it really is, hm?” he grins, and you feel your pulse increasing with how fast he’s going now, well over a hundred miles per hour, and how you don’t think you’re talking about his car anymore.

no. not with the way he was man spreading so wide, to the point where it’d be impossible not to notice the huge bulge straining against his racing pants.

he was hard.

impossibly so, so much that it looked like it hurt.

in fact, if you looked hard enough, you could see the clear outline of his bulbous tip and veins running along his girth. jesus. did he always drive around this obscenely bricked?

you don’t even realize how long you’ve been staring, practically mapping out his cock in your head, until he speaks, jolting you out of your lewd fantasies.

“naughty girl. s’ this the ride you were talking 'bout?”

your cheeks faintly tinge pink at being caught as you immediately look away, out the window, just to see that the car had gained even more speed in the time you were distracted. "n-no.."

before you realize, one of satoru's warm palms is gliding up your thigh, long fingers spreading to grip onto you tightly.

"no..?"

you gasp softly as his fingers rise higher, to ghost over your inner thighs lightly, so close to the place you needed him most.

and oh you can't help the pathetic whimper that escapes as his fingers trail up and down across your barely clothed slit, through your tiny checkered shorts, a faint wet patch rapidly spreading from your slick.

he lets out a knowing chuckle at the feeling of how wet you were, a confirmation to his earlier question. "it's not polite to lie, baby.."

"well, it's not polite to drive around hard as a fucking rock." you huff back, his mouth instantly curving up in amusement.

"gonna do something 'bout it, flag girl?"

and oh do you, as in one fluid motion, you swing yourself over to face him, beginning to grind down across his lap as your hands come to lift his helmet off, immediately tangling your fingers into his snowy locks.

he moans in response, hips lifting to meet you as your pussy throbs desperately atop him, practically its own heartbeat at this point.

you quickly tug down his pants enough to reveal his leaking cock in all its splendor, thick but most impressively long, reaching almost midway up his stomach. gently, you run your hand along his velvety shaft, feeling veins throb under your touch as he comes to a perfect cupid's arrow at the top.

he groans at your touch, becoming more frantic by the minute as his deft fingers come to your shorts.

"toru.. they're n-not.. you can't.." you can't help a small huff of laughter as he struggles to get them off you.

they were meant to be tight-fitting spandex, and in themselves, were hard enough to wrestle off, even without the black fishnet tights you were wearing underneath.

but he's too frenzied by this point to stop and try and figure out a logical way to get them off. no, instead he practically drags the spandex off you, before ripping apart the tights until they're nothing but tattered strings on the floor.

"toru!" but before you can protest, he's pressing you firmly against his body, jostling you slightly as he continues steering, his foot pressing harder on the gas.

"jus'.. hah.. hafta have you right now.. hold on, sweetheart, s' gonna be a bumpy ride.." and with that, he impressively lifts all of you up with one hand to line up his cock before letting go, allowing you to sink down on all his inches with a small cry.

it's almost painful how big he is. stretching you out so deliciously, as you mewl and cling onto him tightly, pressing your face into his neck to breathe out soft moans of "toru.. toru.. mmnph toru!"

he groans at your cries of his name, and you're not even sure if he's aware of how hard he's pressing the foot pedal now, car revving so loudly.

as you begin to bounce atop him, your cunt squelching noisily with every thrust, more and more slick pools out of you, leaving the seat under you to glimmer with moisture. when he sees this, he lightly swats your ass, making your moans only grow pitchier.

"nasty girl. getting m' seats all messy."

"nghh 'toru!" you whine, barely able to speak as you feel him all the way in your stomach, bulge disappearing with every thrust, your breathing ragged.

meanwhile, gojo's gripping you tightly, head lolling back against the headrest as you ruthlessly grind your hips down onto him over and over, the wet plap! plap! plap! sounds filling the car.

looking over, you see the speedometer hit one sixty, though it doesn't even feel like it.

gojo reaches one hand down to messily thumb over your exposed clit, causing you to squeal and try to clamp your legs shut, but no match for gojo's strength as he easily spreads your legs wider than before, only increasing the rough pace he had set on your ravaged pussy.

"keep 'em open, pretty." he rasps, and looking over you see how dangerous this is, car speeding down the highway while he fucked you into oblivion.

the sound of skin against skin filled the air as your ass smacked loudly against his lap, shamelessly going faster as you felt yourself get closer.

"mm, shit baby. you ride me so.. hah.. good. might jus' put me outta a job."

your thighs convulse, shuddering as you try to keep up the pace, his curved inches proving to be too much for you to handle.

gojo noticing instantly, begins to lift you up and down with one hand, guiding you as he positions you at an even better angle.

"fuck... 'toru m'close!.. hah.. s-slower.."

he pouts at you mockingly. "slower..? i thought you could take it?"

you're struggling not to cum right there and then, but desperate to prove a point, you nod, half-delirious. "mhm! mhm! can.. hah.. t-take.."

it's when gojo thrusts your hips faster, moving you up and down him like a toy as he uses you, finger pressing harshly on your clit, that you can't hold back anymore.

you feel weighty pressure against your tummy steadily building and building, your jaw dropping open as you lose yourself in it, cunt clenching and rippling tightly around him.

and then white-hot overwhelms you, a slutty moan ripping out of your throat as your back arches, and tears begin sliding down your cheeks from sheer pleasure.

it takes you a moment to realize you're cumming, and even longer that you were squirting.

gushing a glistening stream all over his pretty car and even spraying over his lower abdominals.

he groans softly. "fuuuckk baby, did you jus'.."

he can't even finish his sentence as with a shudder, he's cumming too, dumping load after load into you raw, creamy white ribbons filling your insides up and dribbling down past your thighs.

slowly, as you come down from your high, you feel the car beginning to swerve as gojo loses himself in pleasure.

his foot presses harder against the pedal as his whole body jerks upward, and you squeal clutching tight to him as the car speeds down the highway.

"toru! toru you're going too fast!"

he lazily blinks open hazy, blue eyes to steady the wheel again with one hand, the other resting against your thigh. "oh c'monnn. you haven't even seen the top speed of this baby."

with that, he presses on the gas all the way.

immediately, you're plastered to him, as the car gets dangerously faster with every breath you take.

a hundred seventy.

a hundred eighty.

a hundred ninety.

two hundred.

you can barely breathe with how rapidly his car is swallowing the road, can't move, can't even think.

"stick your head out the window real quick?"

you stare at him.

no.

he couldn't mean...

but oh yes he did, with that insufferable little grin of his, eyes glinting mischievously, just daring you to.

and you were not one to back down from a challenge.

huffing, you stick your face out, only to be shoved practically halfway out by gojo, who immediately presses his face between your plush thighs, tongue flicking out to taste you.

"such a.. fuck.. mess, hafta clean you up,"

you gasp, the rushing of air from outside only heightening the sensations coursing through you.

"g-gojo who's.. ah.. driving?"

he chuckles into your cunt, sending vibrations into you as you mewl, trying to press yourself harder against him.

"s' okay, got one hand on the wheel.."

before you can find it in you to protest however, he drags his tongue languidly all across your still dripping cunt, cleaning you up as he drinks up every last drop of your honeyed slick.

shaking his head side to side, he eats you like a man starved, hot, wet muscle dipping in and out of your entrance and tracing over you gently.

"mmph.. t-toru.. g-gonna make me..." you throw your head back in ecstasy, back arching upward as you hang halfway out of his window, still racing down an incredibly busy highway, hands coming to grip tightly on either side of his tinted glass tightly.

"taste so sweet.." he mumbles, and you feel the car swerve sharply as he presses his face deeper into you, eager tongue lapping gently.

your hips buck up slightly as you drag your messy cunt all along his face, grinding in slow strokes until his nose bumps your clit with every upward motion.

your stomach coils with heat tightly, winding up further and further with every breath until the pressure is weighing on your chest.

when he takes your puffy bud into his mouth, throbbing with sensitivity and sucks, however, it's over as your thighs quiver around him and you cry out his name, coating his chin in your syrupy slick.

he hums in approval, lapping up every drop, his snowy hair brushing your inner thighs as he moves his head.

gojo finally draws back, satisfied as you practically pull him apart from your sensitive, throbbing cunt, strings of drool and your arousal webbing him to you still as he smiles drunkenly off your pussy, still watching you arched out the window.

"hey, should i compete the next race with you, the pretty flag girl, hanging out my window?"

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gguk-n · 3 months ago

Text

Chapter 2- Unspoken Yearning

Accelerating Emotions (Oscar Piastri x Reader)

Series Masterlist

Summary- Oscar is becoming painfully obvious that he loves Y/N. Even Lando is sick and tired of him. Y/N's having some weird feelings. She's always been clumsy but these strange occurrences have her heart beating really fast.

Y/N was busy talking to her brothers and Oscar's sisters when she heard that familiar voice. He sounded much more older and mature. She turned around to look at the boy who was sounding a lot like a man and maybe he looked older too, she thought. Their eyes met and she smiled at Oscar. She hadn't seen him in ages; he sounded more mature, even hot if it wasn't weird to call her brother's friend hot, he had lost his cute cheeks that she loved pinching, his hair was just as fluffy as it used to be and the closer she got, she realised he had grown quite tall, almost half a foot taller then her. "Hi Oscar" she greeted him with her hand out; Oscar's eyes were wide and he was staring at her. She looked beautiful in the midi skirt and top she paired with a cardigan since the weather was cooler lately. Her eyes were still as warm as he remembered, her nails were neatly manicured. "Is something on my face?" she asked now self conscious. "Nothing" Lando answered, "I'm Lando" he added. "I know, I'm Y/N, a friend of Oscar's" she said. "Oscar never told me his friend was this pretty" Lando said. Oscar saw Y/N tuck her hair behind her ear while a blush graced her cheeks. "Everyone's here Oscar, you should go meet 'em" she called out as Lando walked away with Y/N.

Oscar walked towards the group to greet everyone while he could see his best friend shaking his head. "Why are you shaking your head?" Oscar asked. "Nothing, it looks like Y/N might ask Lando out if he compliments her one more time" Ansel pointed out. Oscar couldn't let that happen, he hurriedly walked towards the pair, "umm....Y/N...Ansel was calling for you and Lando we need to go see the engineers, they asked to come at this time" Oscar said looking at his watch, dragging Lando away. What a close call Oscar thought. Y/N walked back, looking visibly confused when Ansel denied ever calling her.

Oscar was starting the race at P16. It was like the good old days when Oscar used to kart; his cheerleaders were all present to cheer him on for the first time in a really long time. This was a special race for Oscar, since it was his home race. He ended the race in points for the first time in his Formula One career. He couldn't have asked for a more momentous feat. He was so excited getting out of the car. After the weigh-in, interviews and celebrations; Oscar was back in the hospitality greeted by his family. Everyone congratulated him and you could hear the cheering and hooting coming from the group.

Both the families were headed out to dinner to celebrate Oscar's first points in Formula One. Some how, Oscar likes to thank God who was looking down on him, maybe he pitied him but right now, Y/N was sat next to Oscar, he could feel her leg brush past his as she tried to pour herself a glass of water. She handed Oscar a glass too, "Loosen up, Champ" she whispered patting his shoulder. Oscar tried to relax but he literally couldn't, not when she was sat next to him. After exchanging life updates and ordering their food, everyone was talking amongst each other leaving Oscar to talk to the person next to him. He was about to open his mouth but Y/N beat him to it, "Why'd you tell me Ansel called back when I was talking to Lando? I was gonna ask him for his number" she told Oscar. That's exactly why. "I didn't know that. But I really thought he had called you. Anyways how's work?" Oscar asked trying to change the topic. "It's been great. I used to wrangle the 6 of you, I think I can handle pre-school children" she told him. "I helped you wrangle them" Oscar interjected. "Debatable" she said. "I always helped" he tried to reason. "Honestly, you listened to me the best. So, yeah, you did help" she replied thoughfully. Oscar felt like she was talking to him like one of her students. "You're talking down to me" Oscar whined. "God, you still as cute as before" she said ruffling his hair. "I'm not cute" Oscar groaned. "Sure sweetheart, whatever you say" she chided. But Oscar's cheeks were heating up, Y/N had never called him sweetheart even to tease him, he could get used to this, he thought.

The dinner ended with Nicole asking Oscar to drop Y/N off at home since she had come with them. Oscar didn't mind getting to spend some alone time, or so he thought. Poor Oscar was sweating bullets as the AC was blasting in the car. Y/N raised her hand to his forehead at the signal; "Do you have a fever?" she asked. "No" Oscar replied pushing her hand away. "You're sweating a lot" she said now taking a handkerchief out to dab his forehead. "You sure?" she asked again. Oscar caught hold of her hand and brought it down from his face, now looking into her eyes. "I'm not sick and stop treating me like a kid Y/N. I'm almost 22 in 4 days" he remarked. Y/N felt weird, the eye contact, his hand on her wrist and the way he was looking at her. "Sorry" she apologised and freed herself from his grasp and turned to face ahead before Oscar released the clutch to move the car.

The rest of the drive home was quite, Y/N's mind was everywhere; the whole while she stole glances at Oscar and his veiny arms, she quickly caught herself. Y/N had a whole internal monologue going on; 'I've been single for over a year. I've not felt the touch of a man in so long. I've not been dicked down either. I'm probably ovulating. There's no way in hell do I find that scrawny pale boy hot' she reasoned. She got out of the car, greeted Oscar good-bye. Oscar just smiled, "Won't you invite me for tea or coffee?" "It's almost 10, you won't be able to sleep if you drink coffee" she reasoned. "It's rude not to invite your guest in" Oscar expressed. "You're not my guest" she began but as she saw a pout form on Oscar's face; "You know what, I have some Jasmine tea. Come on" she offered. Oscar smiled so big, the street light seemed dim.

The two entered the flat, Y/N throwing her stuff on the sofa. Oscar started walking around looking at all the decorations and pictures on the wall until one caught his eye, a picture of Oscar and Y/N, no one else. "You have a picture of me" Oscar pointed out, holding the photo with a smile. "Yeah, I didn't have any with you other than that. I have pictures with everyone here" Y/N said while heating up the tea. Oscar took a picture of the photo frame; this might have made his day more than the points today. Y/N was busy putting stuff away when she knocked over the hot kettle, tipping all of its content on her hand. "FUCK" she screamed as the boiling hot liquid made contact with her hand. Oscar blotted from the living room into the kitchen on hearing the commotion. "That's gonna leave a mark" he said while quickly turning the tap on and placing her hand under cold running water. "You should be more careful." he told her. "that's gotta hurt" Oscar mumbled to himself. Y/N was staring at Oscar, her hand didn't seem to burn as much under the water but Oscar's hand were warm and big; one of his hand was enough to wrap both her hands, his eyebrows had creased in concentrating, had he always been like this? After a while Y/N slowly took her hands our from the running water, "I'll be fine Oscar. Stuff happens" she told him. "I'll make the tea, go and take a seat. You have ice in the freezer, right" he asked. She nodded at him and Oscar grabbed a cloth and bunched up a few ice cubes and placed it on her burnt hand.

Oscar made the Jasmine Tea with a few instructions from Y/N and the two sat in silence drinking the tea while Oscar placed one hand on the make shift ice pack. Oscar cleared the cups and offered to buy her medicines. "I'm fine Oscar. You should go." she said. "I just feel bad about leaving you alone" he expressed. "I can manage. Don't worry about me. Spend some time with your family" she told him pushing him towards the door. "Do you not like having me around?" Oscar pouted. "You're a joy to have around, more than my own brothers some times, but your parents miss you. Spend some time with them. Okay?" she said. "You're talking to me like I'm a toddler" Oscar whined. "I'm talking to you like your best friend's sister" she stated. "Are we not friends?" he asked. Y/N sighed, "yes, we are friends Oscar. I'm saying this as your friend, spend time with your family. They miss you." she clarified. Oscar smiled. "I don't want us to be friends for long" he mumbled exiting the house. Before she could ask Oscar what he meant by that, he had vanished.

On Oscar's birthday, everyone had come over and he had the biggest celebration he had in a while. The cake was from the local bakery that Y/N had picked out. Oscar doesn't remember what everyone got him but he remembers what Y/N got him and it was a hand knit sweater with a 'happy birthday Mr 22 years old' note which made Oscar laugh. When Ansel saw the sweater, "You got the better one, mate. I've been receiving all of her prototypes" he said. "She made this?" Oscar asked. "Yup, she's been knitting people gifts since she became obsessed with knitting. Reminds me of my grandma honestly" Ansel replied. Oscar was going to cherish this gift for the rest of his life. This was gonna be the family heirloom he passed on.

Oscar didn't get to spend as much time with Y/N as he hoped since she was busy with work. But something had changed in him; he wanted to be hers. Ansel left for university since he had taken a few days off to see his best friend race. Oscar was now stuck with his family for the next few days; Y/N would pop in to help his mum around the house and Oscar would only see parts of her because some how in his house, she was the busiest person. She would leave soon, saying something about her mum needed her home too. On the day before Oscar was supposed to leave, Y/N came over and was stood on the step ladder changing the bulb. Oscar was walking by when he saw the step ladder wobble and Y/N lost her footing. Thankfully Oscar was there to catch her; "Are you okay?" Oscar asked worry written all over his face. Y/N on the other hand, her heart was beating really fast, probably from the fall. Oscar's chest was firm and warm, he was toned, she thought. His arms were strong, he was literally carrying her. She gulped hard before nodding. "Why would you do this alone?" Oscar asked annoyed. "I usually do this alone" she replied barely above a whisper. "What if you got hurt?" Oscar groaned. Was he always this hot angry? Y/N thought. Her priorities were truly in a very strange place. "Please don't do anything that would get you hurt" Oscar begged. "Oscar, you drive F1 cars for a living. I was just changing the bulb. I should be the one saying that to you. Now if you'll put me down, lemme clean this mess." she stated. "No" was all he said before carrying her away from the broken glass of the bulb and cleaned the place and also changed the bulb.

Oscar was back to racing. But this time, no matter what he did, he couldn't forget about Y/N. He couldn't stop wondering if she was okay or if she got hurt. Not like he could call her every day and ask. So, Lando now had to deal with a pouty Oscar who would only ask the most random questions like do you think you can hurt yourself if you trip on something? the answer was yes. Or do you think you can cut yourself while cooking? also yes. Or are there any household chores you wouldn't risk hurting yourself? sadly the answer was no. Lando was so confused, he felt like he had an annoying toddler following him around suddenly. Everything started to make sense when he saw Oscar staring at a picture on Instagram. On close inspection, Lando realised it was Y/N, Oscar's best friend Ansel's sister. His teammate was a goner, Lando thought patting his shoulder. "Mate, stop staring. You'll burn holes through your phone" Lando chuckled. "I'm not staring" Oscar said while scrolling away. "Sure" Lando began, "I finally get all the weird questions you've been asking me" Lando finished. "What do you mean?" Oscar asked. "You're worried about someone rather someone special?" Lando teased.

Lando was good at making people crack or was Oscar itching to talk to someone about his love for Y/N, we will never know. It was like a dam broke inside Oscar who started talking about Y/N morning, evening, day and night. Lando was getting sick of it; he wasn't sure how many more weekends he would last before he told Y/N that Oscar was in love with her. In their driver's room or their hotel rooms, late at night, as Lando's eyes would be closing from the tiring day they had; Oscar would be describing in painful detail how Y/N's hair looked in different seasons of the year. Lando was sure not even documentaries put him to sleep faster than Oscar did. One night, annoyed and tired, Lando interrupted Oscar, "Just tell her already mate. I think I'll be able to profile Y/N in my sleep at this point" Lando whined. Oscar's eyes widened. "Sorry" he mumbled. "I'll head back to my room" Oscar walked towards the door dejected. "Also ask her the fuck out mate. It's about time. The worst she could say is no" Lando called out. To Oscar the worst that could happen was, he lost his found family. It was scary and Oscar wasn't sure he could go through with asking her out even though he wanted to.

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 1 year ago

Text

How To Adapt To Fire (I)

AU MASTERLIST || PART II

PAIRING: Fireman!John 'Soap' MacTavish x F!Journalist!Reader

WORDCOUNT: 4.4k

WARNINGS: Fire(s), intended harm, mentions of death, murder, crime, corruption, arsonist mystery plot, pining, protective!Johnny, flirting, intense banter, etc.

A/N: This is based off of US Firemen just because that's what I'm most familiar with!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

There was an arsonist in the city, and you were going to catch them.

Getting out of your car, you slap the door closed behind you and rush out, heels clicking over the concrete as the roaring flames continue violently—orange and red going high into the air, all centered around an abandoned warehouse building. Through the darkness of night, everything was lit up like hell.

Your satchel hits against your thigh one fast step at a time, arms pumping as your eyes find the flashing lights beyond the glare, squinting.

“MacTavish!” You shout, jogging to the line of yellow tape and slipping under it through a small crowd of locals who call to you sharply. Voices going in one ear and out the other, you only search for that familiar helmeted head and the Scottish accent that accompanies it.

“What is she doing?”

“How come she gets to go closer!?”

“Stop that woman!”

Your white blouse does little to push back the gusts of molten heat on the roaring airwaves, and neither do your dress pants. You push on with stubborn righteousness, even as the mulling firefighters groan under their breaths when they catch sight of you, all pausing in their various duties and panic of grabbing the hoses and getting the water going.

The iconic red trucks sit stationary, but the man beside one of the three vehicles has his head nearly snapped off when he darts it over to you in a fast instant.

“MacTavish!” You call out again, locking onto wide blue eyes that blink rapidly at your appearance.

An under-the-breath curse is leveled out, heard in between shouts and the spray of water, droplets hitting your hard face.

“Steamin’ bloody Jesus. Not again.” Heavy boots jog over, tan and yellow uniform loose beside the places where the straps of his gear attach various items and tools to his body. “What in the hell are you doin’ here, Pencils?”

“My job,” you call stiffly, your finger going out to tap at the small plastic card attached to your blouse.

‘PRESS PASS’

“So be a good informant and tell me how much damage this is going to cause,” your hand is already inside of your satchel, flicking on a hand-held recorder, as your eyes scan about. “The fire was bigger here,” you begin without wasting any time, and the firefighter in front of you sighs in exasperation, clenching his jaw. “Was it because this place was abandoned unlike the last four scenes, or because there was a different accelerant used.”

“I’ve told you, Hen,” MacTavish’s hand moves out in appeasement gestures, glancing at the fire and the rest of the teams that rush to get the rest of the hoses going. “Ya can’t be here when the fucking fire is still ongoing. Do you want to get burnt to a damn crisp?”

“I need answers,” you level, gaze darting back to stare into cerulean blues.

John MacTavish, who everyone just calls Johnny or Soap, for some reason, had been a familiar face to you for upwards of two months. In that time, there had been an alarming amount of suspected arson cases—twelve, counting this one. There was an unprecedented spark-up, most taking place in older neighborhoods and abandoned buildings barring the previous four, of which two people had been seriously injured, and three had died.

But now, it was back to out-of-the-way properties, and you wanted to know why. You needed to.

Such an escalation just to suddenly drop back down to no casualties? It didn’t make sense. If it wasn’t for your career as a journalist, then it was for your morbid curiosity of which Johnny was intently familiar with.

The Scot clenches his jaw, dark eyebrows under his helmet stuck into a line. Around him, the others were getting the blaze under control the best they could—there was no need to go inside to search for anyone and all that had to be done was keep the fire from spreading. So, he had no trouble trying to get you to see sense yet again.

“Do you ever give it a rest,” he asks gruffly, accent thick. “Christ, I’ll be gray before you learn to stop sticking your hands where they don’t belong.”

“You’re not my mother, MacTavish,” you speak, lowering the recorder. “Do you have anything for me?”

Johnny moves up a hand and runs it over his face, groaning. A smirk flickers to your lips.

“You’re worse than a fly,” he breathes, unimpressed eyes opening to stick to you. “I can’t say much right now, most of it is left for forensics. Just from the blaze alone,” he glances over, taking it in. “I’d make a guess that an accelerant was used. Especially with how fast it popped up and the intensity of it. I’d have to get the dogs down here for a sniff, but it’s likely.”

“Do you think it’s—”

“Connected?” Johnny interrupts, lips twitching at the annotated gimmer in your eye. “Aye. This was man-made. There was nothing here that could start a blaze like this.”

You click the recorder’s button and move back with a sigh.

“Lovely.”

The Scot raises a slow brow, looking you up and down, confused. “That’s it?”

“It’s all you can give me right now,” you mutter, sliding a look at him as your eyes squint at the rabid flames. Pieces of screeching metal fall into a heap, a loud boom of spreading smoke and lifeless coughing of material in the air.

“Fucking hell,” you murmur to yourself. “This had to be one of the biggest ones so far.”

It was getting held back from the surrounding buildings—slowly but surely in the morning, the entire place would be a smoldering pile of ash and metal, only more questions left behind.

Johnny sets his hands on the collar of his gear, sighing. “Won’t be the deadliest, though, will it? I’m just glad there won’t be bodies to drag out.”

You send a side-eye his way, feet shuffling. “That, I can agree with. But the pattern doesn’t make any sense to me.”

“Well, sorry, Hen, but you’ll catch me a bit more concerned about the potential next targets than the pattern.” He grunts, rolling his shoulders. “We need to catch this prick. Soon. Resources are stretched thin.”

“It’s like the guy completely switched his M.O.,” you ignore him, eyes narrowing. “Abandoned buildings, then to taking people's lives, then right back to where he started? That doesn’t happen overnight.”

Johnny grunts. “‘Cept here.”

You sigh, tapping your fingers against your bag. The man at your side looks over, shrugging as he takes in the firmness of your expression—the same that he usually wears to any scene he gets called to. Determination.

“I’ll get the report to you soon as I get it,” Johnny breathes, tilting his head. “Figured with all of your connections, you’ll have a better chance at piecing it all together.”

“Thank you,” you nod. The man hums.

“Now, get the hell out of here, yeah? Makin’ me nervous. Tape’s there for a reason Dearie.”

Scoffing, you toss up a hand and shake your head. “I live to make people nervous, MacTavish. You don’t help bust criminals and not make people nervous.”

You begin backing back up, studying the land one more time. Johnny’s lips are thin, and he shifts his legs to stare after you.

“Just be careful,” he calls, fingers tightening at his collar, strong jaw moving as he fixes it. His heart stutters in its course. “Don’t stick your neck where it doesn’t belong, Hen.”

You wave a hand, and then you’re off again, disappearing into the crowd with flames rising high behind you.

The fireman watches tightly, licking his lips before shouting, “I’m serious!”

—

Your list of enemies was seemingly endless.

Drug busts, criminal enterprises, hitmen—there was no shortage of stories you’d broken and your name being printed into the papers; you weren’t at all unknown to the city or the various police or fire stations. Many described you as a public nuisance, but…you were viewed with a modicum of respect as well—even if it was kept under breath.

Yet, where there was respect, there was also the less savory emotion of contempt from the related individuals of those whom you’d landed into the eyes of the law and behind bars.

Perhaps you’d taken this arsonist for a disorganized fool…but you were about to get a very violent reality shift.

“This is the report?” You ask, Johnny sipping from his coffee cup as you both sit in the park three days later, the bench stiff as your fingers play over the manila folder you’d been passed.

“The public one.” Soap huffs when you slide him a look, his finger pointing at you as he holds his drink. “What? Pencils, I don’t care who you think you are, I’m not about to risk my career for something I can just tell you first-hand.”

You sigh, muttering before your hand pushes open the papers. “Go on, then.”

Johnny smugly smirks, chuckling as his free hand goes up to fix the backward ballcap on his head. Under the tight hold of his athletic shirt, gray sweatpants sharply contract your put-together and professional appearance—like night and day. He still smells of smoke and metal.

“You’re bein’ more snappy than usual. Publisher still on your arse, Bonnie?”

“Telling me I need to drop this goose chase,” you grumble, scoffing, eyes skimming down the printed words ahead of you. “As if.”

“Ah, he’ll come round,” Johnny’s lips flicker, flesh crinkling under that stubble of his. An overgrown mohawk leaks from the sides of his hat. “C’mon, tell me what ya need. I’ve got it all up here,” he goes to tap his head, taking another gulp of his coffee.

The morning air is cold all around you, and people pass pushing strollers or jogging—Saturday just beginning to spread over minds and wake those who’ve slept in. Johnny and you weren’t quite like that.

“Our theory about the accelerant?”

“My theory,” Soap grumbles but nods. “Gasoline. Dogs found traces all over—there was a damn lot.”

You tilt your head, glancing at him. “Fits the profile from the other cases except the ones involving casualties.” Your lips pull into a frown, Johnny’s face going more serious. “Weren’t those all started with matches to the curtains in the living rooms?”

“Aye,” Johnny tips his chin to you. “Couldn’t figure that out until—”

“Until you found the matchbox out in the lawn at one of the crime scenes, plus the busted locks on the front doors. All exactly the same.”

The fireman grunts, lips flickering as his face goes a bit red. “Know my job better than I do.”

You pause, a small heat coming to your cheeks, eyes pausing in their search for new information. “I’m not the one who willingly goes into burning buildings, give yourself more credit.”

Johnny leans closer, chuckling. “Was that a compliment, Pencils?”

“No,” you slide out.

He hums a sound of amusement, moving back as his form slouches into the bench. A bird darts past overhead, chirping. “Goin’ soft on me. ‘Bout time—I've been waiting.”

You roll your eyes heavily, closing the manila folder and shifting it into your satchel.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” You face Soap head-on, taking in the deep blue of his eyes and the tease hidden in them. “The station? Home?” Your brow raises. “Animal shelter—I heard they take in strays.”

“Ah,” Johnny flinches, hand raising to his chest as he feigns hurt. “This how you thank your favorite public servant?”

“You’ll live,” you grumble, standing and flattening out your long black coat. “Come on. Seeing as you’re not entirely lost to me, I’m getting breakfast today.”

Johnny’s beaming grin makes your lips pull in a low smile.

“And just like that,” he chuckles, standing up so that his boots hit the ground and his hand falls into his pocket. The empty cup in his hand is tossed into the trash. “I’m a picture-perfect specimen. Not that I wasn’t already, eh?”

“Oh, fuck off,” you breathe, voice exasperated even as your smile breeds along the lines of your face.

The both of you take off side by side, legs mirroring the others’ pace one slow movement at a time. Throughout your meetings for information, Johnny and yourself have grown close to one another—Violet’s Dinner one of the many places that was the unfortunate hub for your intel swapping. However, it was only unfortunate for the patrons, not you.

Soap gave what he knows about the fires and the ways they were started, and you gave over potential next targets based on whatever you can piece together from your police informants as well as others.

You hum as you both walk the trail, slowly weaving away from the bench and down to the gated entrance of the park, slipping past the black iron as John holds it open for you.

“Besides the ol’ fire-freak, then,” Johnny begins, smiling over at you as he itches at his neck, large arm reaching up and flexing. “Any other big breaks?”

Head turning his way, you speak easily. “In which article—the multi-generational money laundering bust at Warren’s Electrical or the murders near Fifth Ave? Or even the drug smuggling near the docks?”

Blue eyes blink. “...Eh…any of ‘em?”

You snort, turning back to the sidewalk and shrugging.

“You asked.” You slyly begin, before getting into the mental paper that you still had to type and send into editing. “Roy Laurence committed the murders near Fifth Avenue—my informant with the SWAT team says he was arrested and booked within an hour of the green light. DNA and fingerprints found at the scene of the last victim.” You raise a hand. “Now, I just have to try and get a spot in the courtroom when a trial date is released.”

“Well,” Johnny breathes, sending you a veiled look after a moment. “Don’t mean to brag, Pencils, but I got to help an old lady cross the street yesterday.”

You laugh, covering your mouth with the back of your hand as Soap chuckles. The sidewalk continues, men and women passing at their slow paces as cars zip past; the fireman taking the chivalrous stance of the person beside the street unconsciously.

“And I’m sure she was very pleased, MacTavish,” you push out, shifting closer to him as an individual passes by, bumping your arm into his.

“Aye, she was,” the man huffs proudly, puffing his chest. “Called me a handsome bloke and kissed my cheek. Blushed a bit.”

“Playboy,” you tease, eyes narrowed over at him. “Cheating on the mutts back at the station?”

Johnny gasps, putting on a serious face. “Don’t you call Mr. Spots a mutt, Dearie—that’s too far.”

“Christ,” you breathe, and an arm settles over your shoulders, shaking you a bit and squeezing your flesh before chuckles follow.

Trying not to sink into the feeling of heat and the promise of fire, you live in this moment of nearly something. There was the close sensation of borderline affection—just brushing the sense of care and…pining.

You knew the Scot was interested in you, or, at the very least, knew he had some modicum of attraction to you. Hell, the way he’d flirted with you when you’d propositioned him to be your link to the fire department was nearly laughable even today. All smirks and glinting eyes.

John was funny, no one was denying it.

There was that firm push and pull between the two of you, a string attached to your wrists that wouldn’t snap—that had seemingly only grown stronger over the months of mystery. But the arsonist took precedence.

Play can only come after work, and you were the picture of professionalism. Or maybe just stubbornness.

“The regular?” Johnny asks, letting you go as he pushes open the front door of Violet’s with his shoulder, keeping it there as you move inside and nod.

“Sure. Same seats?”

The fireman smirks. “Always.”

You smile, walking off to the corner booth as John goes up to the front, waving down the familiar face of the waitress to let her know that the both of you are here. The two exchange pleasantries as you sigh and lean back into the red-cushioned seats, letting your satchel drop near your feet. Sending a text to your editor, you tell him that you’ll have an article written up about one of your ongoing fixations by Monday.

Johnny’s broad shadow soon graces you once more, carrying a plate of fresh bread with butter on it.

“Lady’s a fuckin’ lifesaver,” he breathes. “Gave us free bread today.”

Your eyes dart over to Tammy, the waitress, who winks at you before disappearing to help another customer. Hiding the twitch of your lips, you raise a brow at John.

“Don’t you usually get pancakes, too? Your stomach will explode,” you huff.

“Ah,” his face scrunches in dismissal. “There’s always room for fresh bread.”

His large fingers are already around the body of a knife, slathering gooey butter on a steaming piece of the carb, chomping down and swallowing before he speaks—reaching for another.

“So, spill it on me.”

Your fingers reach out, grasping some bread and bringing it to your lips. You chew, swallow, and ease out, “I think there are two arsonists.”

Johnny pauses, wide eyes stuck on you as he stops his hand from bringing up the next piece of food. He blinks, his face tightens as he wonders over the information that you have, and then the groans out a long, “Fucking hell… one who’s doing it for kicks, the other who’s settling scores.”

“Precisely,” you shrug. “It explains the complete break in character, and we have enough fires to show that not only is the way the flames started different, but for different reasons as well. One wants to kill, the other can’t control it. Impulse.”

“Makes sense,” Johnny grumbles, amused mood for the moment dropping to one of flashing anger. He taps his knuckles slowly on the table, thinking. “You tell the police this theory?”

“Nah,” you shake your head as your legs shift along the seat. “You know how the chief gets about me—I need to do some of my own leg-work. Get more evidence.”

The Fireman is already shaking his head with a chuckle that has no ounce of tease or jest in it. “Nah ah, no fuckin’ way am I letting you get involved with two arsonists—certainly not one that kills people, Hen.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m not asking permission,” you smirk as your breakfast plates are brought over. Johnny’s is full of eggs, bacon, and pancakes, and you, your regular. You thank Tammy with a nod and take a sip of your small drink. “There has to be a connection between the victims. I’ve written about them before, my notes have the answers, I’m sure. I need to focus on one at a time—”

“Bonnie—”

“A possible Revenge-Motivated Arsonist is a far bigger threat than one that only has an impulse to light fires and not harm others. I’ll leave the ladder to you—”

A hand grabs at your own, grasping it firmly. Head snapping up to the square jaw ahead of you, which is tight, the stubble moving the scar along his chin one frown line at a time, you pause your quick rant. Face steadily heating as callouses run along your flesh like un-cut granite, your heart stutters.

“You’ll do nothing without me.” Johnny’s expression leaves no room for discussion.

Mouth slightly parted, your eyelids blink before a squeeze is leveled out on your hand, and the Fireman shifts back. Your eyes follow, stuck on how his shirt hugs his large biceps and the gentleness of how he held you—how he always held you.

Focus.

“You’re not getting dragged into this,” you chuckle, tilting your head seriously. “It could cost you your job.”

Johnny shrugs. “Only if I’m caught. If you're half as stubborn, as I already know you to be, Pencils,” he sighs, low smile coming to his lips. “Then I know you’ll be needing my level head.” Cobalt eyes twinkle.

You stare at him, blinking. Ignoring that skip in your pulse. As hard as you would like to try, you can’t say no to that face of his—that open expectation and firm choice.

“As level as a steep decline,” your grumble meets Soap’s ears, and the man’s face twists with an ingrained amusement that breeds the closer you are to him. It was easy to bounce jokes with you—like a pair of birds, squawking and puffing feathers, only stopping at strange intervals to preen one another before the loud chatter started anew.

“And stop it with the dumb nickname already,” you glare. “It happened once.”

John drags his plate closer, picking up a piece of bacon and taking a bite out of it. “It isn’t every day you see a bonnie Hen with seven pencils in her breast pocket, is it? Hell of a first meeting with that serious face of yours and the sight of fabric practically ripping open.”

“I was in a rush,” your face burns, jaw rotating. “At least I was prepared, MacTavish.”

“Well, who’s sayin’ I wasn’t prepared?”

“Me!” Your fingers grab at your fork, pointing it at him. “You were practically covered head-to-toe in ashes!”

Red cheeks on his part, but always that adorning sheen to his expression.

“I was just in from a damn fire!”

Breakfast went as it usually did—good food and better company—but there was a deeper level to it now; a sharp edge of purpose. By the time the both of you were done, you’d already made up your mind to make it back to your apartment and gather the intel that you had. Find a starting point.

But, as mysteries like these always go, the good times came to a rapid cliff-drop. Johnny was muttering about his work schedule back on the sidewalk when he got the call.

Phone to ear, you’d seen his face tighten—feet going completely still as you have to halt and look back at him, confused. A breeze goes by on the air, and your nose twitches to a sharp tang that leaves your fingers twitching.

“What do you mean, ‘fire on third street?’” Your body locks up, and Johnny’s face becomes devoid of pigment, watching yours closely. It was a strange emotion on his face; a hard and hesitant thing all at once. He was staring, brows pulled in as your lungs seemingly went to concrete inside of your ribs.

Third street? Fire?

Soap’s voice goes even lower. Spine even more straight. “...Stillview apartments?”

You’re already running before you can understand the severity of the revelation—dashing as Johnny yells after you to stop.

That was your apartment building.

“Dearie!” The fireman shouts, his boots pounding after, but you had a head start, shoving through the crowds, dodging strollers and trash cans—bags and thrown curses. “Fucking hell, stop!”

Your form darts fast, heart hammering. Already your mind is running through every possibility and explanation. How could this be happening? Why? Has one of the arsonists found you out? But even then, it could only be the one intent on murder—countless others lived in your building; this was more than intent…it was a massacre.

Fires don’t just spark at a time like this to not be called connected.

Even over the air, you could hear sirens above Johnny’s loud pleas to slow down, moving as well as he could through the rush of people.

He’s still on the phone, barking questions and the will of his legs to take him in the direction of the department building. But you. The back of your head in his black-sided vision.

The man knows that if he doesn’t catch you, you’ll run straight into that blaze not only for the principal but your evidence. Your cork boards and their red strings—your pictures and printed articles. Johnny knew you had them, he wasn’t an idiot.

You were too smart for your own good.

He was nearly there—just a few more steps and he could grab the back of your jacket like some stray cat, pull you back until you were in his arms. A fireman, yes, but he’d never get used to the inferno that was you; you consumed him utterly. It was an instant feeling for him, and even with the initial flirting, the immediate latching of his attention held fast. A bird to a wire. Hopeless, he was. Johnny was afraid at how much you trapped him in your ways—your looks and your…you-ness.

And you were only making him more afraid at this very instant.

Soap was the only person ever supposed to be walking into fire.

“Hen!” The fireman barks, sharp and visceral. But you only take the next corner faster, satchel slapping against your thigh.

“No,” you pant, legs dashing. “No, no, no. I left everything I need for this case in my filing cabinet!”

This is what you get for trying to be organized for once.

You smell the smoke before you see it, and feel the heavy hand on your coat collar not a moment after you lock on it.

“MacTavish!” Your angered voice moves out, but it’s all strangled away in a fast moment of the screaming of sirens and the visible fire from your tall apartment building strikes you. Watching blankly, your face falls as strong arms reel you back into a chest.

“Fuck,” Johnny growls, eyes wide as he looks on, phone clenched tightly in one hand. His jaw writhes with tension, vision darting from one fire truck to another and the men available to help. People were doing a myriad of things—screaming, running, watching—but through it all, there was the presence of fear coupled with a static anticipation.

Panting heavily, you watch your life’s work go up in flames, and feel the tight arms of your informant keep you close.

You learn that if you don’t adapt to this fire sooner or later, it’s going to consume you. And still, you can’t understand if you’re talking about Johnny, who murmurs quick words of comfort into your ear, or the case that just locked you in with chains of commitment and rage.

The real work had just begun as ashes fell like snow to the street; the spray of the firetruck’s water flew with sure aim. Your face hardens, and you feel that worried grip tighten, bringing you into a ramshackle hug.

You have an arsonist to catch, and not a single person would stop you now.

TAGS:

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ghoulsbounty · 7 months ago

Note

If you’re still taking requests I would love Baby Billy with the reader giving him a blowjob in a car if you can. You can do the plot and all that, thank you! I might request more if you’re taking them at the moment.

Heaven Itself

Uncle Baby Billy Freeman x Wife!Reader

Warnings: smut (18+), blowjob, oral (m receiving), cum eating (kinda), fingering, roadhead, spitkink-ish, rough oral sex, messy, face fucking, choking, gagging, dirty talk, reader is a good girl, porn with a little plot.

Word Count: 2.9K

A/N: OH BOY I love writing dirty things with this weird man. I realise I took 'giving him a blowjob in a car' and completely ran with it but I hope you enjoy it regardless, Anon. I’d love to know what you all think to this, and feel free to send me more requests 💌

It unfolded just as you had expected. You wished that Baby Billy would stop with the schemes, cease seeking approval from everyone else, especially his late sister's family. Yet, the allure of the coveted position of pastor at the new Locust Grove location, and the payday that would come with it, had drawn him back into their fold. You remained supportive, though with a quiet pessimism that always accompanied your husband's involvement with the Gemstones. It wasn't that you didn't like them, but they seemed to bring out the worst in him, and it was a side you rarely saw when it was just the two of you back home at Freeman's Gap.

Of course, it had happened again. Another argument with his brother-in-law, and Baby Billy had stormed out of the church, relinquishing the title of pastor and dragging you along with him to the car. It was a scene that played out at least once a month, and so when you caught Eli's exhausted eye roll as you were pulled through the doors, you gave him a silent nod. It was a signal that conveyed your resolve to sort everything out—not for Eli, of course, but for the sake of your husband's reputation and perhaps your own sanity.

Baby Billy gripped the wheel with white-knuckled intensity as you hurtled down the narrow, curving roads. The tires skidded on the tarmac with every tight turn, your stomach rising and falling with each dip as he accelerated so forcefully that you were pressed back into your seat. His eyes were wild, fixed in a furious glare at the road ahead, completely ignoring your pleas to slow down as your hand tightened around his thigh.

The rush of adrenaline coursed through your veins, mingling with a hint of fear as you clung to him, your heart pounding in your chest. Despite your attempts to calm him, he seemed consumed by a reckless determination, his foot heavy on the pedal as he pushed the car to its limits.

With each passing moment, the world outside became a blur, the only constants the roar of the engine beneath you and his frustrated rant about the head of the Gemstones. His words came out in a torrent of anger, punctuated by the car's aggressive growl as it hurtled forward.

"Fuck Eli Gemstone," he declared vehemently. "He thinks he's so high and mighty, but he'd be nothing without Aimee-Leigh. And who made her? That's right, Baby Billy Freeman, that's who. He'd be nothing without the both of us."

His words hung heavy in the air, charged with anger. The car sped on, each mile marker blurring past as he continued to vent his frustrations. His grip on the wheel remained tight as he poured out years of pent-up resentment.

You had heard it all before. You'd listened to him lament the loss of his sister and his career, watched him pine over what he had once had, and seen him almost scream in frustration over the fact that he had to keep going back to his brother-in-law for handouts.

The weight of his struggles was heavy on your shoulders, a burden you bore alongside him with each passing day. You had witnessed the toll it took on him, the way it gnawed at his pride and eroded his sense of self-worth. Yet, despite it all, he persevered, driven by a determination to reclaim what he had lost and prove himself worthy of the respect he felt he deserved.

After each failed business venture, it always took so long to rebuild Baby Billy, to piece him back together again. You had been through this cycle before, weathering the storms of disappointment and setbacks together. Each time, you had stood by his side, offering unwavering support and encouragement as he picked up the pieces of his shattered dreams. And as the darkened landscape passed you in a blur, you mentally prepared yourself for the arduous task ahead, knowing that it would begin with getting him out of his own head.

Your hand on his thigh slid higher, your fingers teasingly dancing over his crotch as you swiftly worked on the belt and zipper of his jeans. His rant lost momentum, his gaze locking onto you with a wondrous glint before watching your hand disappear into his pants.

"Keep those eyes on the road, Baby," you instructed, a mischievous smirk playing on your lips as you boldly grabbed his cock through his boxers. He emitted a low groan, desire igniting in his eyes, yet he dutifully complied with your command, refocusing his attention on the road ahead.

"Ol' Baby Billy getting some roadhead, now? Alright," he chuckled, a playful twinkle in his eyes as he adjusted himself in his seat and spread his legs wider, eagerly anticipating your next move.

Baby Billy seethed through his teeth as you liberated his cock from the confines of his tight jeans, already half-hard and throbbing in your palm. You felt the weight of him as he sat thick and heavy in your hand, hummed affectionately when he pulsed against your touch.

With practiced skill, you began to stroke him gently, feeling him grow harder, larger, in your grip. Your thumb traced teasing circles over his weeping slit, eliciting a low, guttural moan from him as he instinctively bucked into your hand, craving more of your touch.

You chuckled, unclipped your seatbelt and manoeuvred in your seat so that your legs were folded beneath you, leaning over the arm rest that sat between you both. His hand closest to you left the wheel, hung over you almost hesitantly before resting on your back with a soothing stroke.

The air around you crackled with tension, the sound of his ragged breaths mingling with the steady hum of the engine as he slowed the car to an normal-pace. You smiled to yourself, inwardly praised yourself for knowing how this man ticks. You always managed to bring him back from the ledge that he put himself on.

As you took one tentative lick at his slit, Baby Billy gasped, his grip tightening on the fabric of your dress. You squeezed the base of his cock, flicking your tongue over him again and lapping at the salty tang that you craved.

"Oh, fuck," he gasped, his hips instinctively rutting upwards for more as you pulled away with a teasing smile. Undeterred, you continued to stroke him leisurely, lifting your head up to kiss him momentarily on the cheek before dipping back down. With deliberate slowness, you spat a thick slew of saliva onto his aching, red tip before spreading it over him with your tongue, eliciting a low groan of pleasure from him.

"Well, if that ain't the best gotdamn thing I've ever felt," he sighed with satisfaction, his hand releasing its grip on your dress to tangle into your hair. "Hallelujah!"

As you hummed appreciatively around his cock, he guided your head down further, his hand urging you to take him in completely. The sensation of your throat constricting around him was intoxicating to him, a release of pent-up frustrations manifested in the rhythmic thrusts of his hips. Each choked gasp and whimper that escaped your lips fuelled his desire, a primal need to dominate and possess.

This dynamic between you had evolved over time, growing increasingly raw and intense with each passing year. You had embraced your role as the devoted wife, willing to fulfil his desires and provide him with the release he sought, no matter how unconventional or demanding they may be. And for Baby Billy, this unwavering loyalty was a source of comfort, a reassurance that despite the challenges and setbacks he faced, you would always be there for him, ready to support and submit to his needs.

You concentrated on keeping your jaw how you knew he liked it—slack and drool dripping down his shaft as he began to bob your head up and down with his grip in your hair. He set a rhythm that had you gasping for breath. The slickness between your thighs grew with each thrust, the taste of him—a salty bitterness—overwhelming your senses as he bullied his way deep into the back of your throat.

"Fuck, you look so good like this," he groaned, his voice thick with lust. "Choking on my cock, drool everywhere... you love it, don't you?" His hips thrust harder, his grip in your hair tightening as he took his pleasure from your willing mouth.

You squeezed your thighs together in an attempt to alleviate some of the pressure building between them. His words of praise and filthy words always had you burning for his touch, your desire growing with each moment as he continued to use your mouth as a cocksleeve. Yet, despite the overwhelming urge to seek your own pleasure, your focus remained solely on his.

His grip on the back of your head tightened as he began to thrust up to meet the descent of your mouth, his movements growing more urgent with each passing moment. You felt a sharp intake of breath escape him as he pushed down roughly, hitting the back of your throat yet again but holding you there, your breath cut short as his cock filled your mouth entirely and you retched around him. His prideful chuckle cut through the air, and you clenched your eyes shut, thinking of how bruised you were going to be after this but revelling in it none the less as you willed your throat to relax it's spasms.

Finally, he released you, bringing you up for a gasp of air as your fat tears mixed with the thick saliva coating your chin. You took in deep, ragged breaths, your chest heaving with exertion as you blinked away the tears. Your body trembled from the intensity he loved to put you through, every nerve ending alight with sensation.

He looked down at you with a mixture of pride and satisfaction, his thumb brushing away a tear from your cheek. "That's my girl," he murmured, his voice low and filled with affection. "Always so good for me."

You shivered at his words, the ache between your thighs was almost unbearable, your arousal heightened by his praise and the soft touch amidst the rough handling.

"Such a good girl," he repeated, his hand moving to cup your cheek. His fingers traced your lips before slipping inside your mouth. "Get them good and wet, now."

You eagerly obeyed, swirling your tongue around his fingers as he watched you intently, his gaze dark with desire and satisfaction. Pulling his fingers from your mouth, he suddenly veered off the road, coming to a hard stop on the dirt path. You jolted back against your seat, Baby Billy pulling you back over the armrest with your face in his lap and your ass in the air, on display to anyone who would drive past you on the dark back road. The hand that was on the wheel now gripped the back of your head instead, guiding your mouth back to his cock with a sense of urgency.

As he directed you with one hand, the other deftly flipped up the fabric of your dress, slipping beneath your soaking underwear. The touch of his fingers against your heated flesh sent a jolt of electricity through you, igniting a fire of desire that burned hot within you.

You moaned around him as his digits glided through your wet folds, your body instinctively seeking more of his touch as you swivelled your hips back hungrily to find friction against his palm. He laughed, his head thrown back against the headrest as he looked down at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"I know you get yourself all worked up looking after me, now," he told you, the warmth of his voice sending shivers down your spine. "But you know Baby Billy will look after you too, sweetheart. A man's got to see to his wife."

You whimpered as two fingers entered you, thick and demanding, your body eagerly accepting the intrusion as you arched against his touch. The squelch of your cunt burned your cheeks with embarrassment as he fucked his fingers in and out of you with a relentless pace. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, building the tension in your body to unbearable heights.

Your screams vibrated around his cock as his thumb rubbed deliberate circles on your clit, sending sparks of ecstasy shooting through you. The pleasure was intense, overwhelming, as he expertly manipulated your sensitive nub, driving you closer and closer to the edge with each tantalizing stroke.

His other hand now rested at the back of your neck, holding you in place as his hips thrust up to fuck your mouth aggressively. You remained slack-jawed and slobbering over him, completely at his mercy as he took control. This was Baby Billy in his element, relishing in the power he held over you, using your mouth as a tool for his pleasure while simultaneously bringing you to your own bliss.

He liked to push you to your limits, to see how much you could take as he drove himself deeper and deeper into your throat. Each thrust was met with a gasp from you, your body straining to accommodate his relentless rhythm. Yet, despite the discomfort, you remained obedient, knowing that this was what he wanted, what he needed.

"I know you like it," he groaned, his eyes closed when your tongue began to lap greedily at his cock with every thrust. "Fuck, you love it when I fuck your mouth, don't ya? Having you here, stuffed with my fingers and my cock, you—fuck—you just eat that shit right up." His voice was rough with desire, each word punctuated by the rhythm of his thrusts as he surrendered to the pleasure coursing through him

You could feel it building, the tell-tale signs of his impending release. His thighs tightened, his hips stuttered against you, and his breathing became ragged as praise fell from his lips. You knew it was coming soon, the moment when he would finally give you his load, and you braced yourself for the inevitable surge of ecstasy.

You were almost there, too. The familiar pit in your lower stomach, the delicate feeling of teetering on the edge as his fingers curled inside of you, pressing into that spongey spot that had you seeing stars. A muffled cry escaped your lips as you pushed back to meet his relentless assault on your cunt, the intense pleasure overwhelming your senses.

The sensation was electrifying, every nerve in your body tingling with anticipation as you rode the waves of ecstasy crashing over you. With each thrust of his fingers and each stroke of his thumb on your clit, you felt yourself spiralling closer and closer to the edge.

And then it hit you, a wave of pleasure so intense it left you breathless. Your body convulsed with the force of your orgasm, pleasure rippling through you as you cried out. The sloppy sounds of him fucking you through your orgasm filled the car as you surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure shooting through you.

"That's it, let Baby Billy hear you, now," he panted, grinning as your garbled mewls grew louder, more spit gushing around him as he refused to stop his ministrations against you. You tried to wriggle away from his attention, your cunt now swollen and clenching around his digits that remained buried inside you. He chuckled breathily, his fingers coming to a still as they slid from you. He ran his hand up the expanse of your back.

Your body relaxed against the leather seat, tired and spent from your orgasm as your fingers released their tight grip on the arm rest. You pulled away from him, sucked in a deep breath, a string of spit connecting from his cock to your glistening lips. You felt empty and groaned at the loss of fullness, but didn't have time to contemplate it before both Baby Billy's hands were in your hair, using them to shove his way inside of you ruthlessly. He fell into a maddening pace, his hips rutting as his drool covered sac slapped against your chin.

"That's it angel," he said encouragingly, his breath short as he dropped his head back to stare up at the ceiling. "You take everything I give you."

With a few more powerful thrusts, he comes with a loud shout from deep in his chest, releasing thick, white ropes down your throat. You swallow quickly, determined to take his heavy load as he desires, but there's always so much of it. It drips from the corners of your mouth, rolls down your chin as your chest heaves to suppress the rest of it. After the last few spurts have subsided, you lick diligently at his swollen tip, gratefully lapping up any traces that you couldn't take beforehand. Tucking him back inside his jeans, you raise back onto your knees to look at him with a fucked out gaze that has his chest warming.

He smiled at you with tired eyes, reaching out to cup your cheek. With a gentle swipe, he collected the salty residue of his release from your chin and guided it back between your lips. He was adamant that not a drop of him go to waste. You obediently cleaned it from his thumb, watching him through wet lashes before pulling away with a soft pop.

Your husband held your chin between his thumb and finger, giving it a slight shake as he smiled. His voice was laced with satisfaction and affection as he murmured, "Sent from Heaven itself."

#uncle baby billy #uncle baby billy x reader #baby billy x reader #the righteous gemstones #walton goggins #baby billy freeman #baby billy freeman x reader #fic request #uncle baby billy smut #baby billy smut #smut fic #the righteous gemstones smut #the righteous gemstones x reader

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archivequinn · 7 days ago

Text

the bond between us eddie munson x female reader

Summary: You go back to the town you had to leave to go to university, but the town wasn't the only thing you left behind, you go to the place you least want to be for a date and there you run into your ex-boyfriend Eddie Munson. ao3 link part one | part two | (completed)

The rest of the world was completely silent. You could hear his breath, inhale his scent. You never imagined this moment would happen, but now you were here. When your lips met, it was like a timeless explosion.

At first he was hesitant, as if he, like you, was questioning whether he deserved it. But then everything accelerated. His kiss was greedy, as if he was longing for something he had longed for for years, but it was also gentle and full of emotion. Your fingers clutched involuntarily at the collar of his shirt, and Eddie pulled you to him. You could feel his heart beating against your chest, the heart that seemed to be telling you that the man you left so many years ago still loved you. You brought your hands to his face, your fingers touching his chin, his stubble. With every gesture you made him feel how much you missed him, how much you wanted him. Eddie's lips parted from yours and he tilted his head slightly as he placed a small kiss on your cheek. “Do you know I still love you? I never stopped loving you,” he said, his voice almost a whisper.

Your eyes teared up, the words stuck in your throat again. What would your life have been like if you had never broken up with him? Would you have been able to fulfill the dreams you had together? As these thoughts invaded your mind, Eddie's gaze shifted back to your lips and he kissed you once more. This time it was slower, deeper, but just as passionate. As his fingers slid to your waist, he pulled you a little closer to him. It was as if you were trying to take out all the pain of the years apart from him, every breath, every touch screamed it. But also guilt, regret... It was all together.

You wanted to tell him: “I had to leave you, I had to leave you, but that never meant I didn't love you.” But you couldn't put it into words. Your kisses said it all clearly enough. Finally, you pulled back, panting. Eddie's forehead rested against yours, those brown eyes staring at you, full. “I wish you hadn't left me,” he said in a low voice.

The words made your heart ache. “I know,” you whispered, your voice cracked. “I wish I hadn't left...” At that moment, somewhere inside you realized that Eddie had always been your home. University, career, other people... None of it had ever been as real, never as strong, as you felt around Eddie. Eddie's breath was still ragged, the taste of his lips still on yours. When your eyes met his, something inside you broke. The warmth in his brown eyes seemed to give way for a moment to a slight coldness. It was the look of a broken person, someone who wanted to forgive but knew that forgiveness was not enough. He took a deep breath and turned his head slightly to the side. “I have to go,” he said in a low voice, almost a whisper. But those three words echoed around the room, spread to every corner of your heart.

He was trying to look away from you, but he looked so fragile and agitated, as if he couldn't control what was inside him if he stayed any longer. “Eddie, please...” you started, but you couldn't finish the sentence. You thought of reaching out your hands to him, to stop him from leaving, but you couldn't. Biting your lip, you tried to think of something to try to stop him. “Don't go, please,” you whispered, your voice almost a plea. Eddie's expression changed; for a moment there was pain in his eyes. “Don't make this harder, okay?” he said, his voice trembling slightly. His eyes turned back to you evasively, but this time you saw disappointment and regret there. “I'm not mad at you... or maybe I'm still a little mad, I don't know. But... I can't stay here tonight. It's all... too much.” “Eddie...” you interrupted, but he held up his hand to gently silence you. “You... I thought I could forget everything with you,” he said suddenly, his voice heavy with old memories. “But I couldn't. And this... this makes everything harder.”

He looked away from you again, running his fingers through his hair. “I want to forgive you, I really do, but forgetting... That's another thing. When you left...” He paused for a moment, cleared his throat.

“When you left me, everything in my life suddenly lost its meaning. And I... had to move on somehow. But here, now, with you... I don't even know what to feel.” “Eddie, please,” you said, your eyes full, your voice shaking. You wanted to tell him everything, why you left back then, how much you really loved him, but the words seemed to get stuck in your throat. When Eddie looked at your face, something changed in his eyes. He was tired, he obviously didn't want to hurt you. He took a deep breath and looked away from you once more. “Look,” he said in a softer tone, ”it's just... If that stupid Josh ever bothers you again... let me know, okay? I've got the same number. I'll... I'll be right there.” You wanted to say something to tell him not to go, but Eddie backed away quickly, as if he needed to get out of there as soon as possible.

He walked to the door and paused for a moment before leaving. “Take care of yourself, okay?” he said without turning around, his voice still fragile. A silence fell over the room as the door closed. The emptiness inside you was deepened by her walking out. You stayed where you were for a while, feeling your heart breaking. Should you have stopped him? Maybe you should have tried harder to make him stay. But Eddie was gone. And all you could do now was try to cope with the weight of it.

You were sitting on the porch in front of the house, swirling a coffee cup in your hand. There was the sharp chill of winter in the air; the steam at the corner of your lips clashed with the heat from inside. You relived that scene over and over again, haunting you for the three days since Eddie had left. The disappointment in his eyes, the bitter tone mixed with resentment, felt like a knife in your heart. You could feel with every breath how deeply it was etched. You were so absorbed in your own thoughts that you didn't even hear the sound of an engine coming down the road. But as the steps got closer, you heard a familiar boot stepping heavily on the wooden steps. You looked up and saw him. Eddie. He's in his leather jacket again, this time with a denim jacket layered underneath, and a red scarf around his neck that he used to wear all the time. His hair was a bit messy, but somehow he looked perfect. “I'm not bothering you, am I?” Eddie asked, his voice as low as ever, but more cautious now. There was indecision in his eyes; he seemed torn between leaving and staying. “No... of course not,” you replied hurriedly, putting the cup down and standing up. You noticed the tension on Eddie's face and tried to send him a warm smile, but even you could feel how hard it was to do so. “It's... nice to have you here.'' His eyes drifted to the corner of the porch, to the wind chime you used to hang there, still swinging in the wind. “It doesn't ring like it used to,” he said. His voice carried the weight of the years you hadn't spoken to him. “But... I like that it's still here.” “Some things are permanent,” you said, giving Eddie a meaningful look. There was a tremor in Eddie's face at that moment that you felt even as he tried not to make eye contact with you. In the past, Eddie would never have looked so vulnerable. Now he looked like a man who had been forced to confront the past, but who was still interested in you. “Shall we go in?” you asked, an involuntary tremor in your voice.

Eddie hesitated at first, ran a hand through his hair and took a step back. “Look, I don't mean to be a bother. I just... I just wanted to check if Josh was bothering you, nothing more.”

“You're not a bother, Eddie. On the contrary, thank you for being so thoughtful.” you said.

“There's coffee. If you want...” you continued, and Eddie nodded slightly, not letting you finish, and stepped inside.

The warmth of the house seemed to embrace him after the bitter cold outside. Eddie stood and looked around for a while, his eyes lingering on the photographs on the wall. There was one of you and a couple of your friends, it looked like it was taken on graduation day from university. Eddie's gaze froze involuntarily. “It's... strange to see how different your life has become,” he said. “After you left, it's been a little... empty around here. But you've obviously filled it.” What he wanted to say was far beyond his words. “It may look that way from the outside,” you retorted. “But some emptiness is never filled. You know that.” You could feel Eddie still watching you as you prepared the coffee mugs. It was as if he was weighing the past with his eyes, trying to piece together what he'd wanted to say for years but hadn't been able to. “Eddie...” you said, your voice trembling. “I wish... I wish it wasn't like this.” Eddie's hands clenched involuntarily on the edge of the table as he sat down at the kitchen table. He bowed his head with the weight of years and a strange uneasiness of being face to face with you. His eyes fell on an old detail that was still there in the kitchen - the old magnet board you'd taped to the wall with little notes and drawings on it. He seemed surprised that it was still there. “Some things don't change, huh?” he said quietly, his voice almost a whisper. You opened your mouth to answer him, but you didn't know what to say. Memories flooded your mind of sitting with him in this house, at this table, all those years ago. Those days when you laughed together, when you made plans, when you believed that nothing could keep you apart... But now you were at opposite ends of the table, as if there was an invisible gulf between you. “Eddie...” you said, your voice trembling involuntarily. “I don't want you to go.” Those words released the reality you were both trying to escape into the air. Eddie looked up, his eyes locked directly on yours. The mixed emotions in his eyes carried a buried disappointment along with longing. “Why are you saying this?” he said, his voice low but shaky. “You left me years ago. Why do you want me to stay now?”

You swallowed, finding it hard to look Eddie in the eye. Facing him meant feeling the weight of your past choices all over again.

“Because... Because I know I made a mistake. Going to university was right for me, but leaving you... Letting you out of my life was the biggest mistake of all.” Eddie was silent for a moment. He put his hands on the table, his fingers interlocked. “That's good to hear,” he finally said, his voice softening a little. “But it doesn't change what I was going through at the time.” “I know I can't change it,” you said, your voice trembling with conviction. “But maybe... we can rebuild something. If you let us.” Eddie nodded at those words, but it was hard to understand what he had decided. Underneath that old, rebellious and confident posture was a more complex, more cautious man. When he turned his eyes to you, there was a sincere look, as if he was lowering all his walls to really see you in that moment. “You haven't forgotten me, have you?” he asked. “All this time... did you ever forget me?”

“No,” you said immediately, without hesitation. “I couldn't forget, even if I wanted to.” A silence fell after those words, but it was not uncomfortable. All the emotions between you hung in the air, what was said as much a part of the moment as what was left unsaid. Eddie suddenly got up from the table and took a few steps towards you. You were surprised by his movement, but the determination in his eyes held you in place. When you finally came face to face with him, you felt that old warmth again. Eddie took a breath, as if he was ready to let go of everything he had been holding inside for so long. “I want to forgive you,” he said, his voice slow but clear. ”But if I forgive you... I need to know you won't leave again. Because I can't bear it one more time.” You closed the distance between you and him and approached him. You looked him in the eye and gave him the most honest answer you've ever given: “I won't leave again. I promise.”

At these words Eddie opened his arms and pulled you in. His warmth, his trust and his familiar scent enveloped you in an instant. As you rested your head on his chest, you felt everything falling into place a little more. As Eddie wrapped his arms tightly around you, you realized that past grievances were slowly melting away. It was as if this hug made up for all the years that had passed between you. “Don't leave me,” Eddie said, his voice low but sincere. “Really don't leave me this time.” “I won't,” you said, your voice not shaking this time. “I will not leave.” Without relaxing his arms, Eddie lowered his head slightly and buried his face in your hair. As he took a deep breath and inhaled your scent, a peace spread over his face, as if he had found a part of himself he had lost for years. “There was always something about you that calmed me like this,” he said, his voice soft as a whisper. “It's like even your scent can heal the past.” You snuggled a little closer to him, lifted a hand and gently wiped a tear from his cheek, smiling. “I will do my best to heal the past.” Eddie lifted your head slightly and turned his eyes to you. The vulnerability in his eyes revealed the truth beneath the hard and rebellious posture you always saw. You touched his cheek with your fingers, the warmth you felt under your fingertips as you wiped away his tears proved how open he still was to you. “When you were away...” he started, but the words caught in his throat. Slowly he rolled up his sleeves, holding his tattooed arms out in front of you. As your fingers ran over the familiar tattoos, new drawings now caught your attention. “These... did you get these after us?” you asked, slightly uneasy. Eddie tried to smile, but the corner of his lips twitched slightly. “Yeah. To make myself feel,” he said, his voice turning into a heavy sigh. “When you left, that's all I had left. The tattoos, the inks... they were my way of controlling the pain somehow. So much accumulated... I had to carve it all into my body.” Your fingers hovered over a tattoo-a detail of a hand holding the neck of a guitar. But that guitar symbolized a melody that was not played. “And the guitar... Eddie, why did you stop playing the guitar?” you asked, with a slight ache in your heart. A bitter smile appeared on Eddie's face. “Because my hands started shaking,” he said. “You know, being on that stage was everything to me. But those stages... the songs I played looking at your face, when you left, it felt like an empty shell. Every time I played, something was missing. You were missing.” At these words, silence fell for a moment. In the depths of Eddie's eyes, you could still see the shadow of that old passion. You leaned a little closer to him, placed your hand gently on his. “But Eddie, that guitar is part of you. When you're on stage, when you make music... it's like you're challenging the world. You have to find that again. For yourself.” Eddie, as he listened to you, there was a spark in his eyes, but it was also mixed with a slight doubt. “I don't know,” he said slowly. “Back on the stage? I don't think so, I'm not that man anymore.” “Maybe it's time to find that man again,” you said, a soft but determined tone in your voice. “Because I know that Eddie Munson can change the world when he picks up that guitar. You always had that effect on me, remember?”

Eddie bowed his head and smiled, as if slightly embarrassed. “You always saw too much in me,” he said. But as you wiped the tears from the corner of his eyes, he nodded slightly. “Okay. Maybe I have to try. But I'd like you to be there. Like you used to be... watching me from the front of the stage.” “I'll be there,” you said firmly. “I'll feel every note of every song. I promise.” Eddie looked at you for a long time, then opened his arms again and hugged you tightly. “Forgive me,” he said in a low voice. “For being so fragile.” “I don't have to forgive anything about you,” you said, hugging him tightly. ''But maybe... we can forgive the past together.”

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