#but i got the afternoon off work so small wins i guess | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

clubdionysus · 4 months ago

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[BAD DECISION #57] Buttons

warnings: the big gallery auction!!! wahooo!!! the entire plot was building to this!!!!!! he is on his knees begging!! rooftop escapades <3, semi-public, oral (f), fingering, phonecall??? during??? jungkook is insane????, readers underwear in jungkooks mouth?? readers underwear in jungkooks... underwear?, a v horny jk lmao

a/n: all currency is in korean won!

wc: 11K

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

Gallery days always feel a little more placid than they really should do.

Where you think there should be chaos, there is calm; testament to how meticulously you plan. It's the weeks leading up to the shows that are the real stress. Endless errands are run, and countless logistical issues are checked. You work damn hard. The fact you can breathe normally right now, a few hours before doors open, is proof of it.

"You're a lifesaver," Shinwon, Jina's assistant (and Ryu Gallery's stand-in head coordinator), breathes out a sigh of relief. Having taken over her role since Jina left for maternity leave, he's been finding the adjustment hard. The responsibility of orchestrating shows weighs heavily on his shoulders. He hadn't realised quite how much of the heavy lifting Jina had been doing. "I don't know how you do it."

Shaking your head, you laugh. "Ah, it's easy once you get used to it. Get a few more shows under your belt, and you'll be grand."

It's not like you're vastly more experienced than him, it's just that you've built your way up to this. Started small. Learnt the ropes.

Shinwon had connections that put him on a high rung in the ladder, not accounting for the fact that it's damn well scary up near the top. The fall from grace is far less forgiving. Don't look down is the advice he'd always been given for this very reason.

You've had the luxury (or misfortune) of working your way up.

The levels beneath you don't scare you in the same way they scare Shinwon. If you end up back down there, you know how to climb back up. He ran before he could walk; just a product of his privilege. It's nothing you can really hold against him.

Still, it does fill you with a little bit of pride. You've worked hard, and it's paying off.

"Doors are in an hour and a half," you tell him, passing over a stack of auction guides. "Can you be an angel and put these around the place?"

Everyone in attendance will get one upon their arrival, but you know what people are like once a flute of champagne has passed their lips. Won't hurt to have spares available.

With a nod and smile that says a silent thank you for taking the lead, Shinwon is on his merry way.

Looking around the place, you take a second to appreciate all the work that has gone into this show. In the middle of the main gallery area is an empty easel and Taehyung's supplies. A pole is set up directly opposite it.

The idea is simple: Taehyung will do a live work inspired by a routine performed by Danbi. It's all very romantic, how terribly besotted with her he is. Destined to be a muse, nothing could make you happier for her. It'll also be a good money maker—people will be blind bidding throughout the night. The highest bid at the end of the auction will win the work.

It's one of multiple Kim Taehyung originals on offer tonight. He's been making waves on the art circuit lately—you've even got an international line set up for foreign bidders. The fact he's giving up his time and his art to help Jeongguk out is selfless.

"DB, I wouldn't even have international fans had it not been for you pushing me so hard to expand myself," he had reminded you after you'd thanked him for the hundredth time that afternoon. "It's the least I can do—plus Jeongguk has promised he'll import my favourite wine for the restaurant once it opens, so it's a win for me, too."

Maybe you're being greedy, but you hope the night will be a win for you, too. A lot of hard work has gone into this. With Shinwon's continuous second-guessing of himself, you know that the likelihood of a spot opening up on the Ryu's curation team is high. Think that perhaps this could be the thing that really solidifies your presence; that you can not only draw in punters, but profits, too.

You're taking in the room around you when a hand sneaks around your waist, a familiar presence intruding on your personal space in a way that never really feels like an intrusion at all.

"Hey," you whisper, not needing to turn around as Jeongguk presses a kiss to your hair, squeezing you tightly against him. "You're early."

Having been caught up at Dionysus, Jeongguk had wanted to finally finish off the renovations he had been doing to the outdoor area of the bar. Once that was done, he'd have no more obligations with the bar other than casual shifts.

The tides really are turning. It scares him. Excites him, too.

"Managed to rope Yoongi in," Jeongguk says softly, punctuating his sentences with even more kisses pressed against your hair. Told you once that if you were his girlfriend, he'd kiss you in this room, right in front of everyone. The room is empty, now, but you are his girlfriend, so he'll take his victories when he can. "Got everything sorted in, like half the time."

There's a tenderness to the way he holds onto you. Close is never close enough. It's not like he gives it much considered thought; is just how he naturally gravitates towards you.

"Does it look good?" You ask of the bar. "Happy with it?"

Nodding, Jeongguk smiles. "Unrecognisable. Kinda sad, though."

"Hm?" You question. "How come?"

"I just... I've spent a lot of time in that courtyard," he mumbles. "Always makes me think of you, though."

"Of me?" You chirp with a little confusion, as if you don't also have incredibly poignant memories there that linger like the silage of Jeongguk's aftershave through the hazy smoulder of freshly cracked fireworks.

"Of you," he doubles down. Pulls away a little, turning you to face him, and you sort of wish he hadn't. How you'll ever be able to focus now that he's here is beyond you.

Smart in his dark slacks and leather shoes, Jeongguk's white shirt is buttoned mid-way up his chest. The silver chain he so often sports rests against his skin like it was made to adorn his body; so inherently his that it's unfathomable he's ever without it.

In the corner of his charming smile lays his silver lip ring, sparkling under the gallery lights.

It's his eyes though, framed by loose strands of his lightly waved hair, that always render you a little speechless. No other artwork compares.

"New Years," he simply offers. "It's all I can ever think about when I'm there."

So imperative is the memory of time spent with you, it eradicates any memory of Hayun there. He simply doesn't consider it. Now that the dust has settled, you don't think of it, either.

"Maybe there's a little magic in that courtyard," you offer. "Now that it will be open to punters, maybe they'll have their own version of our new year in it."

A lovely thought, it is, that perhaps there's something spectacular about that little space.

In reality, the magic came from stardust that had settled on your skin like glitter, and wrapped Jeongguk up in your cosmic chaos, too.

And so he just shakes his head. Smiles. His lip ring does the thing. You die a little inside, in the most pathetic of ways. "Impossible."

With a laugh, you swot him away. "I've still got a few things to sort out."

"Need a hand with anything?" He asks, always happy to help out.

Shaking your head, you really don't think there is anything he needs to do. "Tae will be here, in, like, five. See if he needs a hand with anything? I need to go and get changed."

In all black, you're casually dressed but know that the night ahead demands something a bit more spectacular. You've a few options with you, but one particular dress is in the forefront of your mind—just worry that it's a little too much.

The thing is, you're playing multiple roles tonight. You're not simply a curator, or a hostess. You're responsible for making people open their purse strings. Looking the part is important.

"Alright," he nods, dark eyes soft. There's a tenderness to Jungook today; his adoration for you quite literally pouring from his very being. "Go. I'll keep myself busy."

Pulling you in for a quick kiss, he sends you on your way. Regrets not telling you he loves you. Will just do it when he sees you next. Revels in the fact that he can just do that now. Doesn't have to go back and forth between his feelings. Is forward with them, 'cause he's secure.

Being together is just easy. It works. Makes sense in a way that nothing else has ever done before. You could chalk it up to the stars, or to some sort of invisible string that had looped itself around you both with a pretty little bow, but nothing would ever do it justice. Not divine intervention, not destiny nor manifestation.

No romance film has ever portrayed a love like the way he feels for you, and no love song could ever soundtrack the way you laugh together. Both holy and unholy in the same breath, no religion could ever make him worship in the way that he devotes himself to you.

If he were alive in the ancient times, he would have made shrines for you. Temples. Castles. Gilded in gold, everyone who visited would have known the sincerity of how he felt.

Instead, he has to settle with modern conventions of dating. Will give you a bouquet of flowers when he really wishes he could plant you a garden full of wildflowers; beautiful unconventional blooms that everyone will adore.

He half figures that maybe he should just blow caution to the wind. Build you a temple anyway. Fill it with glitter and gacha machines. Anyone who ever visited would leave with just as much admiration for you as he has.

By the time you've changed your outfit and checked yourself over a hundred times, Jeongguk is nowhere to be seen, but the door leading up to the rooftop has been left on the latch, so you take it as a safe bet.

Much like you hadn't turned to face the sound of Jeongguk's footsteps earlier, Jeongguk doesn't turn to face yours. The click of your heels echoes on the flat roof of the ceiling, and he knows that to take in the sight of you would be incredibly dangerous. His eyes remain on the city ahead of him. He knows the direction of home. His. Yours, too. Wonders if one day you'll share a home together.

Slinking your arm around his back, you hold onto his waist as his arm drapes over your shoulders. The city is growing darker as the dusky light of late spring sunset lays a thin curtain of pink over the skyline.

"Watcha doing up here?" You ask, squeezing his waist.

He doesn't reply immediately. Could tell you about his mindless thoughts about building a home with you. Could tell you he feels nervous about the night ahead; about whether or not they'll hit their goal, or if your ex will show up.

"Just wanted some air," he says, conveying everything that he needs to. There's a lot on his mind, and you aren't gonna push him to open up so close to the big event.

"Want me to leave you be for a little bit?" You offer, knowing that he seems to be hung up on his thoughts.

Jeongguk's grip on you doesn't ease, even as he shakes his head. "No."

A comfortable silence settles between you both, neither of you needing to say any words. You understand that Jeongguk shares when he's ready. Know that he's probably thinking of the right way to phrase his worries, or deliberating whether or not he even wants to share them at all.

"What if it doesn't work?" He quietly says as the light-speckled horizon glistens in front of you both.

With a small frown, you press your lips together. Know that he doesn't mean to be pessimistic, but it's natural to have worries.

"There's no reason why it shouldn't. Anything we earn tonight will help, even if we don't reach the total goal, Gguk." Turning your head to the side, you press a kiss to the side of his hand that's draped over your shoulder. Instinct-driven, he strokes against the side of your neck with his thumb. "We've got this."

Grouping yourself in with him, the responsibility is shared. The burden falls not on him, but on the both of you. It's always been this way. From the very inception of your birds, you've been a team.

Jeongguk takes solace in this. Has never really felt alone since that first night in Dionysus. Has been consumed by you ever since.

Pressing a kiss to the side of your head Jeongguk quietly admits, "I think I'm scared, B."

"Of course you are," you say softly. "You really care about this. I'd be surprised if you weren't a little scared."

Pulling back from him, you clasp his hand and begin to lead him away from the edge of the roof.

As he takes you in for the first time, Jeongguk thinks he might just die.

The dress you're wearing is one he knows well. One he picked out. One you've been saving for a special occasion.

You're sparkling in a way you never really have done before. Look like that damn disco ball he always used to tell you that you were, except far prettier than he could ever describe.

The fabric slinks over your body, and finishes a little higher up on your thighs than it really should. Your cleavage—dusted in shimmer—is visible, and Jeongguk might just choke when he remembers you're his girlfriend. It doesn't seem possible. How he managed to catch his very own shooting star is beyond him.

It's a dress that doesn't beg for attention—it commands it.

And if there's one thing Jeongguk is good at, it's following your orders.

Shaking his head, a grin blossoms on his pretty pink lips. In the corner of his mouth, his lip ring flips ever so gently. Light glistens on him in the most gorgeous fashion, your disco ball aura dousing him in eclectic energy that neither of you quite understand. Jeongguk just knows he's better when he's with you.

He encourages you to spin beneath his raised arm, fingers still loosely clasped together. Letting out a soft whistle, Jeongguk is speechless as the dress shines even under a dusky veil of early evening skies.

The fabric drapes over your body in a way that he's almost jealous of. Shorter than he thought it would be, but also far sexier than he'd realised, Jeongguk is certain that death will be the only outcome for him if he has to watch you schmooze other men while wearing it.

"You're gonna be breaking hearts tonight, Byeol," he promises you with eyes just as sparkly as your dress.

"So?" You grin. "There's only one I care about."

He could think of some flirtatious retort. Could joke with you. Could banter in the way that he usually would.

But he knows you'll have other men leering at you tonight.

Wants you to know that none of them compare to him.

Pulling you in for a kiss, hands on either side of your jaw, Jeongguk is so incredibly sincere as he mumbles against your lips, "I love you so much." He doesn't let you reply. Kisses you again. And again. Again, again, again. "So fuckin' lucky."

He's a little careless in how often he tells you of his affection. Doesn't care to hide it, nor pretend like it isn't how he feels. Spent so long denying himself of such simple human pleasures. Revels in it, now.

"Shush," you hush him with a smile. "Love you, too—but do you not think the dress is too much?"

You're a little cautious as you pull away. Feel insecure, even with his constant praising. Know that no one else will be dressed quite like this. It's a black-tie event, and most women will be in cocktail dresses, so it's not like you'll be totally out of place; you'll just be demanding attention.

"Since when do you ever care about being too much?" Jeongguk grins. Knows he's never given you any reason to feel that way. If anything, he'll always encourage you to demand more attention. "And no. You look gorgeous, B."

Rolling your eyes to hide the way you blush, you can't help but get a little smiley at such a compliment. "Yeah, but you have to say that."

"No, I don't," he says firmly. "You think I'd lie to you?"

"No."

"Exactly. So, stop fretting."

Tugging on your hand, Jeongguk encourages you towards the staircase leading back down to the gallery.

He guides you until you reach the very top of the stairs—then groans. Tilts his head back and squeezes your hand. Laughs through his wailing, standing totally still.

He'd been so confident, so keen, and now it seems like he's faltering. Squeezing his hand back, you silently let him know you're with him, no matter what.

"It's just... God, it's all out of my control, isn't it?" He asks when you question his sudden change in demeanour.

"Well, yeah," you reply. "But it doesn't have to be a bad thing, Gguk. Letting go of control is healthy."

He shakes his head. Realises now that his stomach is in absolute bits. The butterflies he got when he looked at you had disguised it for a moment. He much prefers the butterflies. Cast his eyes back to you, and finds himself cured.

Tucking some loose strands of hair behind your ear, Jeongguk is ever so gentle. Isn't looking in your eyes as such, just at your face. At his hands. At how perfectly poised you are for him, like his very own star suspended in the cosmos for him.

"Hey," you say quietly, the silence between you not uncomfortable but indicative of the fact that Jeongguk isn't entirely at ease.

"Hi," he whispers back.

Edging away from him, but keeping your hands clasped, you get your back up against the wall. Pull him close.

Brows furrowed, there's a haze of confusion haloing around him. He's curious about what you're doing, but trusts you in such a way that requires no clarification.

As you lift your wrist above your head and delicately cross them over, you keep your eyes on his. Whisper, "Take back control."

The way that Jeongguk's large hand wraps around your wrists and keeps them pinned above your head is innate; as if he was put on the early to catch a star.

His hips press against your tummy as his nose nudges down to stroke against yours.

"Yeah?"

Nodding, you let your lips brush against his. "Yeah."

The weight of his hips traps you in place, your body naturally succumbing to what feels right. His aftershave seems stronger, grip tighter. Everything about him is amplified, yet it doesn't come close to the chorus your heart is just dying to cry; declarations of love wrapped up in the sweetest of melodies.

A whisper would be enough. He's the only one who needs to know.

The pressure of his piercing against your lips as he presses down into a kiss always sends you a little bit insane. Today is no exception.

His tongue swipes against your bottom lip, and you give him the access he so desperately craves. Whimper into the sensation of being with him. Reciprocate his hard kisses with your soft lips.

Once upon a time, when the tigers still smoked, this was forbidden; folklore of your former selves. Funny, how you know a love like this will become the stuff of legends. Eternal. Written in the stars to be marvelled upon by mature astronomers for decades to come.

No one will know who put the constellation of you in the sky. They'll study your shine for years, yet won't be able to fathom that you were willed to be that way by a mere mortal man; loved so purely that your legacy will remain in the cosmos forever. It's a beautifully foolish idea. Whimsical Impossible. Implausible, even. But with him? Somehow it feels feasible.

Though his kisses have strength behind them, Jeongguk's tongue is gentle as it strokes against yours. A mess of lips, and meeting of tongues, neither of you care to keep quiet. No one's gonna find you up here. This is a space in time reserved for you and Jeongguk alone. The rest of the world can wait a moment longer.

You'll retrograde, and unlike Saturn or Pluto, it'll be better for everyone—'cause you'll also inevitably go direct again, and it'll be so much more fruitful if Jeongguk's mind is at ease.

You do, however, regret giving him leverage, 'cause all you want is your hands in his hair. The hand of his that isn't keeping you secure squeezes at your waist, and you're reminded of just how much you like giving up control to him.

Curved into a smile, Jeongguk's lips leave yours far quicker than you hoped they would. With a casual shake of his head, he decides that he's ready for the orbit to continue. Doesn't mind if he gets a little dizzy in the process.

"C'mon, B," he says as he positions you in front of his body, and encourages you down the stairs. "Save it for later. Best behaviour tonight."

You whine a little, regretfully far too turned on than you really should be at a time like this.

Still, you accept his encouragement down the stairs, and make sure your fingers are intertwined with his as you walk on down to the exhibition hall.

"Oh, I can pop this in the cloakroom for you," you chirp without much thought when you notice his bag tossed down by the podium at which you'll be conducting the auction later on that evening. Black leather, you recognise it from your time spent in his room. It's usually tucked beneath his desk.

"Actually," he interjects. "There's something I wanna talk to you about—we don't have to do it, but I kinda just had a passing thought, and maybe it could be helpful—"

He begins to ramble, but it's cut off by your laugh. "Just tell me."

A little bashful, and somewhat nervous, Jeongguk reaches for his bag. The zip scrapes open, and he retrieves a small box from a nearby printing shop. "Now they're nothing fancy, and I just kinda mocked them up because I wasn't sure if we—"

"Gguk," you laugh. "You're rambling. Tell me."

"Sorry," he grins, passing you over the box, figuring that he may as well just show you his idea.

Lifting open the box, you're greeted with the familiar scent of fresh ink. It's always been one that you've loved: newspapers, books, magazines. There's a nostalgia to it. Inside sit a wedge of business cards—except when you pull them out, you realise they're something different entirely.

"So what I'm thinking," he begins as you study one of the cards. "Is that people can buy these cards, right—" he points to an empty space on the back of the card "—and however much they spend is written on here. When the restaurant opens, it can be redeemed. So, like, put in 50,000 now, and then in like six months' time, if they come for a meal, we comp through however much is on their token. Like a gift card, or a voucher, or I dunno, even a bar tab. Just to build a little extra capital up and also give them something tangible in return. Build brand loyalty."

"This is smart," you tell him with a smile.

"It's just something we discussed at uni once," he says a little sheepishly. "Some festival did it to raise funds for booking acts. I just figured it wouldn't hurt to try?"

"It wouldn't hurt at all," you tell him, wanting him to know that his ideas are just as valid and worthwhile as yours. Feel guilty for not just including him right from the start. "We could set up a stand near the cloakroom? There's space for it, and it'll mean everyone will pass it."

"Yeah?" He says, a little unsure of himself.

"Yeah, Gguk," you encourage. Stand on your tiptoes and give him a gentle kiss before pressing the box to his chest. "Go. Tae is near the cloakroom. You guys have full control. Set it up how you like."

"Are you—"

"I'm sure," you promise. "Go. I'll see you in a bit."

With a silent nod but a smile so bright it's practically blinding you, Jeongguk walks backwards for a few steps. Doesn't want to take his eyes off you. Pursing your lips, suppressing a grin, you blow a kiss in his direction, which is enough to satisfy him. He blows one back, then turns to head down the hallway.

Sighing so deeply the tides could change, you look around the room. Mutter to yourself, "Let's do this."

You always think you're not quite right for the glitz and glam that comes with the artistic industry, but come show nights, it's a surprise just how at home you feel.

Surrounded by art, and people who appreciate it, you're able to discuss your passion at length. As much as you love the art cafe, there's so much you can say about paint strokes with couples who come in for a fun date activity.

Watching on from across the room, Jeongguk thinks you shine brightest like this.

His view of you is obscured by the easel Taehyung is working at, and the routine Danbi is performing on the pole. Though Taehyung has seen Danbi like this a hundred times over—how her muscles work and flex beneath her skin, and the concentration yet serenity on her pretty face—he's never painted it so explicitly.

The stroke of his brush comes with ease, just like Danbi's movements appear to be. They really do make the perfect match, Jeongguk thinks.

When he glances back over to you, noticing how you're holding the little charm on your necklace, he wonders what people think when they see you together. It doesn't matter, really, but he hopes you're the kind of couple people grow envious of. He knows damn well he'd be jealous of himself.

And as the space beside him fills with a looming presence he would rather not acknowledge, he knows he's not the only one.

"Cleans up well, doesn't she?" A voice that Jeongguk had forgotten was quite so arrogant says.

Swigging back his drink, Jeongguk deliberates whether or not a reply is owed. If he felt like the dig was about him, he'd ignore it, but you're the one being spoken about. Of course he's not gonna just let it slide. Will be a petulant little brat about it.

"Seokmin," Jeongguk grimaces, deliberately getting his name wrong again.

"We both know you know my name," Seokjin smirks, adjusting his posture and broadening his shoulders. Lowering his voice, there's something sinister about the way he mutters, "No doubt you hear it in her sheets from time to time."

It's sort of funny how you considered roundhousing Hayun with a chair the last time you saw her. Jeongguk is thinking of doing something very similar to Seokjin.

"I know your name 'cause you're a clingy ex who won't stop sending her flowers," Jeongguk scoffs. Considers being vulgar. Mentioning the way you whine his name. Respects you too much to do it, though. All he really wants is for Seokjin to leave, so he lays it straight. "The auction tonight is for my start-up, so don't waste your time. I'm sure you won't want to lose your money to me, and frankly, I don't want it."

"You're right," Seokjin nods. "I'd rather not give you a penny, but I'm particularly interested in one of the listings."

Opening up the pamphlet, Seokjin pretends to skim through it until he finds the listing. Doesn't need to. Already knows which number it is. It's also right at the front. He's making a big old song and dance out of things just to piss Jeongguk off.

"Ah!" He continues. "That's it. Number one."

Jeongguk grates his jaw. Keeps his eyes on you. Is hard in his gaze. He doesn't want you to look his way and see the state of him, but he knows that his breathing exercises only calm him so much. You're the one thing that really grounds him.

" Experience for two at Pot & Paint Art Cafe ," Seokjin reads aloud. " Expertly hosted, it says, but we both know who'll be looking after the winners, don't we? Would be a waste for me not to win it."

He's deliberately trying to push Jeongguk's buttons. A few months ago, it might have worked.

But a lot can change in a few months.

"I might not bother taking anyone with me," Seokjin continues like the vapid narcissist he is. "Just me and her. I always hated that cafe, but there's that chair of hers—the one in the corner, her favourite..." he trails off. Smirks. "Yeah, I hate that cafe, but it can be fun when it's just me and her."

Jeongguk knows he should be angry. Knows that the 'correct' response to Seokjin's baiting should be red-hot fury.

But instead, Jeongguk just laughs .

It's not sarcastic. Not cruel.

If anything, it's hearty. Loud. Makes his head lean back, shoulders lifting to his ears. Has you glancing in his direction, smiling too—until you notice who is standing directly beside him.

Brows raised, you recognise the expression on Seokjin's face well. Knows that he'll be scoffing soon. Rolling his eyes, maybe. A year ago, you might have cared.

Now, all you can do is find your eyes dragged back home to a smile you never want to lose.

"Ah, that's funny, man," Jeongguk says with a shake of his head. "No, really. That's, like, the most deluded shit I've heard in weeks, and trust me, you should meet my ex. You'd get on like a house on fire. 'It can be fun,' " he imitates Seokjin, voice all goofy. Laughs, again. "Oh, fuckin' hell, man. That really tickled me. Good joke."

If he were to psychoanalyse himself—which he won't, not now that he has a therapist to do it for him—he'd probably realise he's developed a nervous response to stressful situations. Did the same exact thing when you told him you wanted to end things back in the Dionysus cloakroom. Had laughed and told you no.

The idea of Seokjin being with you, especially in the art cafe, makes Jeongguk feel sick, quite frankly.

And so, even if he seems unphased, Jeongguk has no qualms in asserting his dominance. Sure, he may be younger. Might not have his shit together.

But you love him in spite of it all.

He doesn't need Seokjin's approval.

"Look, I dunno why you insist on chasing around a girl half your age," Jeongguk says with a flippant arrogancy that can only ever be charming from a man like him. Though you're only a couple of years younger than Seokjin, Jeongguk reckons it's his youth that Seokjin is really envious of, so he plays into it. After all, it's the only thing money can't buy. "But I've been doing exactly what I said I would back at the tennis club: putting that youth of mine to good use. She's not interested, mate. So, if you don't mind, old man, stop looking at my girlfriend like she's yours."

Patting Seokjin's arm just to ensure that salt is rubbed into the wound, Jeongguk smiles as he walks away. Doesn't care to play nice. In fact, he doesn't care to play at all. Whatever game Seokjin wants to play, he can play alone.

Jeongguk slinks through the crowd that's watching Taehyung paint, and heads straight for you. He places his hand on the small of your back, joining your conversation. His spare hand reaches out to shake hands with the associate you've been talking with.

You're all smiles as you introduce him.

" Ah, the man of the hour graces us with his presence," You beam. "This is Jeon Jeongguk, the founder of the restaurant we're raising funds for this evening."

"Unique," the older gentleman you've been speaking with says as he shakes Jeongguk's hand. "It's an innovative way to get investments. I'm impressed."

Knowing him as well as you do, you're sure Jeongguk will throw it all back to you, so you don't let him.

"He's a sure bet," you assure the gentleman. "Hands of Midas, this one."

"Oh, I'm sure," he kindly agrees before you excuse yourself and leave Jeongguk to chat with potential investors.

As you depart, you subtly rub his back just to give him a little boost. He doesn't need you hanging on his side for the whole night. Will do well to speak with the art snobs independently of you.

After all, he's building a brand and needs to be the face of it—not just known as the curator's partner.

"Doing well, isn't he?" Seoyeon purrs, passing you a champagne flute as you join her by the bar.

Taking a sip, your eyes are locked in on him. He's laughing, now. Cracking jokes. Is so charismatic it's hard to forget how shy he can be.

"Incredibly well," you fondly praise. "He never would have done this a year ago."

"And who do we have to thank for that?" Seoyeon giggles, nudging against your shoulder. Her hair is loose, tiny plaits scattered throughout. Yoongi is across the room with the boys, a single plait secured in his hair, too. They really are a perfect couple.

It's interesting that you'd think that of them.

You, a cosmic entity; Jeongguk, stars for eyes. You're just as perfectly aligned as the Mins are.

"He'd have done it eventually," you smile. "Just needed a little push."

"Well, aren't we glad you were there to do it," she kindly says, then begins to ask about some of the auction listings.

You're thankful for the excuse to ramble on about it.

In a way, you're practising your pitches. Are a little bit nervous about standing on stage in front of everyone there and beginning an auction. While you won't be the one actually calling the bids in—you've hired someone from the local auction house for that—you still have the duty to present all of the items first.

It doesn't take long for Jeongguk to excuse himself from his conversation. Had gone in search of you earlier, but like the shooting star you are, you'd evaded him. Seoyeon squeezes your arms as he approaches you and makes her own excuses. Wants to give you this moment with Jeongguk alone.

His eyebrows raise upon seeing this, but a smile also graces his lips.

"Am I really such terrible company?" He playfully asks you, reaching for your hand. He lifts your knuckles to his lips and presses a sweet kiss against them, knowing better than to be so outwardly affectionate with you in a professional environment.

"Oh, the worst," you nod. "I only stick around for the money."

"A gold digger and a man without a penny to his name," he assesses, standing shoulder to shoulder beside you. Both looking out to the sea of people in front of you, it feels like you're on dry land when you're together. "What a pair we make."

"The stuff of Hollywood films," you hum in agreement. "Next time we're at a motel, that can be our cover story."

"Next time?" He smirks. "Thought you said it'd never happen again?"

"Well, beggars can't be choosers now, can they?" You sigh as if you're really bothered by the lack of financial stability your relationship offers you. Maybe it's naive, but you really think it's inconsequential. You'll be stable one day; for now, you're stable in so many other ways. "If it's the only way we can afford to hook up, then I guess we'll have to."

"And they say romance is dead."

Glancing up to him, you're amazed at how flippantly you speak of such matters, now.

"Let's not pretend like it's the worst place we've ever—"

"Byeol," he quietly scolds you, but he just can't help that damn smile of his. "We're here for business, not pleasure."

"Tell that to Jeongguk up by the roof a couple of hours ago."

"Still thinking about it?"

Your subtle grimace is hidden well. "Regretfully."

He smiles when he hears this. Is vindicated by your relentless desire to be with him. You're so flippantly vulgar when it comes to your desperation, and he finds it far hotter than he thinks he should, as if human attraction has never known such a karmic pull before.

Gaze hard on the crowd of people all mingling and chatting, he wonders how long it would take for anyone to notice you weren't around. If anyone would look for you, and upon failure, would look for him too. How easy it would be to work out exactly what's going on.

And yet he can't help but ask, "How long until the auction?"

"About twenty minutes," you guess. Haven't checked the time in a little while, but pride yourself in your judgement of time passing. Still, you reach for his wrist. Check his watch. Smile. "Yeah, twenty minutes."

Jeongguk weighs up his pros and cons. Tries to give it considered thought. Clasps your fingers with his, then says, "I need your opinion on something."

The way you let him guide you out of the room is damn near comical. Anything he asks of you, he'll likely get. Plus, you like that he values your opinion. Makes you feel seen. Heard. A lot of the things he does make you feel that way.

He's dastardly confident as he leads you down the hallway and back to the stairwell that takes you up to the rooftop.

"Something out here," he tells you over his shoulder.

You're not really sure why you don't protest. Don't tell him that now isn't the time to be going up there; that you're expected to be in the main hall very shortly.

His pied-piper grip on your attention has you following him regardless. Off you trot, up and away.

The inky-black skies have already spilt into the horizon. Lights spread through the valleys that surround the city, like whispers spreading far and wide. Rumours. Much the ones you could envisage trickling through the city's artistic elite if they noticed the Ryu's darling and some rogue tattooed charmer galavanting away together.

In all likelihood, no one would care.

It's just fun to pretend like you and Jeongguk are something worthy of the story books; as if the New York Times would have to cease its chart, for all the tales would be of Jeongguk and his star. Your adventures, far and wide. Paperback, hardback, special editions. Devoured by masses, adored by those who just got it.

But you're none of those silly little stories you dream up together. You're not wanted by Interpol, you're not star-crossed lovers, and you're definitely super spies, either.

You're just a guy and a girl.

Yet when Jeongguk has you alone on that roof, back pressed to the far wall, and his kisses feel as cosmic as they do, it'd be easy to pretend you're so much more.

"My opinion?" You mumble through the kisses you really don't want to stop. Whine a little as his strong hands begin to roam your body, squeezing and stroking wherever they can with little regard for the dress you're wearing. He might've been the one who bought it, but he wants it off just as much as he wanted to see it on. "You wanted it? On what?"

"On how quickly you think it'll take for me to make you cum."

"Gguk," you groan, as if your hands aren't working your way down his shirt. Miraculously, through no fault of your own, his buttons end up threaded through their loops. Undone. Oh, no . His chest is far more exposed than it was. Totally has nothing to do with you, or the fact that you like his chest just as much as he likes yours. "We can't."

"We shouldn't ," he corrects you. "But we most definitely can ."

As you laugh, he pulls back slightly. Tucks hair behind your ear. Gets his eyes on yours, and it's only then that you realise he must have planets in them now. Entire solarsystems. They just shine in a way that can't be earthly.

"You know how pretty you are after we fuck? You literally glow, Byeol," he praises. "I reckon people will want to bid more if they see you like that."

"What?" You laugh, bashful at the idea of people seeing you in a way that's reserved for Jeongguk and Jeongguk alone. "Fucked out?"

"Nah," he smirks into your lips, pressing down into a soft kiss. "Just pretty—but I can make a real mess of you if you'd rather? Ruin you, if you want."

"They'd never let me back here," you assure him, pushing him away, and then pulling him right back.

"Fine," he smiles, his body moving entirely up to your will. If you want him away, he'll go. Will respect your wishes. Be the gentleman you know him to be. But you haven't told him 'no', yet. Chess remains unspoken.

As his lips find a new home in the crook of your neck, chess is the last thing on your mind.

"I can play nice, too," he mumbles against your throat, wet kisses being pressed to your skin. He's obsessed with the scent of your hair, nose stroking against you. Groaning as he does so, Jeongguk doesn't care to hide the way you make him come undone. He's weak, and he wants you to know it. You gave him control earlier, but he doesn't want it. "I can be a good boy for you, hmm? Would you like that baby? Like me on my knees for you?"

Tall, broad, Cruel Summer-coded Devil; Jeongguk on his knees for you is the last thing you need at this moment.

Yet somehow it feels like it's the only thing you need, now that the thoughts have been planted.

They'll blossom in your head. Ideas of him, and his catastrophic eyes looking up at you. The feeling of him taking ownership of your sex with his mouth, and your heart with his eyes. Like vines of ivy, you'll become ensnared by him. Will realise too late that it's poisonous—and by that point, what else is there to do but succumb to a little death?

"You're literally gonna make me cum in like 5 seconds if you keep that up," you tell him. "I might die."

He doesn't mention it, but he does smile when he realises you've started talking like him. So integrated into one another's lives, it's getting harder to remember a time when you weren't utterly besotted.

"Keep what up?" He plays dumb, just as bratty as you so often like to be. You're not the only one mirroring. He's just as influenced by you as you are by him. "I just wanna make you feel good."

"You do," you softly moan into his touch. His lips are intentional against your throat, but it worries you. "No hickies, Gguk."

He nods, sucking just a little longer than he should but not hard enough to leave a mark.

Though he apologises, he's boyish and brass when his vulgar lips beg, "Just let me suck on your clit, instead. Please . I'll be so quick. I promise."

"Gguk," you whine, as if your body isn't one or two terms of endearment away from folding.

"I'll make you cum so hard," he whispers against your lips. "All on my tongue. You want that, huh, baby? You want the taste of your gorgeous cunt in my mouth?"

"I don't think you'll be quick enough," you reply between frantic kisses. This is a blatant lie, and you both know it.

"Let me try," he pleads.

Pressing kisses along your jaw, Jeongguk skillfully works his lips down your throat, chest, valley of your breasts. Is interrupted by your dress, and takes it as an invitation to skip it entirely. Crouches. Holds your hips as he kisses up your thighs.

The rooftop isn't private. Anyone could walk up at any second. The danger of it all excites you just as much as it terrifies you.

"I'm on my knees," he states the obvious, his hands creeping up the front of your dress. "I'm begging ."

Pathetically, all you can do is gasp a little as he pushes the fabric up. Curses when he's greeted with your lace-covered cunt. Lets his nose nudge up against you, just 'cause he can think of few scents he loves more. He knows it's the pheromones that make him this insatiable, but he doesn't give a fuck. Would wear you like a perfume if he could.

"Five seconds," you compromise. "That's all you get. Just a taste."

He doesn't argue against it. Knows you well enough now to know that timing just isn't your thing.

Instead, he pulls back. Hooks a finger beneath the fabric of your underwear, and tugs it to the side. Almost fuckin' whimpers as he watches strings of slick arousal cling to the lace.

He spreads your pussy apart with his fingers, and swears he might die at the sight of it.

Desperately wet, Jeongguk loves just how keenly your body responds to him.

If you had control over it, you'd hold back. Wouldn't give him such satisfaction—but you can't, and so you both have to live with the knowledge that sex will only ever be this good with him. You'll just have to stay with him forever, or something dumb like that, you guess. Shame.

"Gonna waste your time," you warn him.

"Just looking," he mumbles while his nose strokes up against your clit. "Doesn't count yet."

"You're bending the rules, Koo," you gently tell him. "Behave yourself, or you won't get anything."

"No," he whines. "Please. I just... God, B. You don't understand how fuckin' hot you are." And then he smiles. Shakes his head. Presses a single pouty kiss just above your clit. "My pretty girlfriend and her gorgeous cunt. Fuck. I love you."

Part of you thinks he's just saying it to buy time.

But you know it to be true, too.

"I love you, too," you whisper, stroking your fingers through his hair.

His tongue gently traces against your clit. Once. Twice.

"Doesn't count," he says again, voice hushed against you, the warmth of his breath cooling his spit.

"Five," you begin to count down.

Afraid he'll miss his chance, Jeongguk wraps his lips around your clit, latching onto you with such incredible force it's impossible to keep counting. Immediately, he just sort of takes your breath away. It'd be romantic if it weren't so sordid. Hands tangled in his hair, you keep him pressed to your pussy.

"Oh, fuck," you moan. "Feels so good."

But Jeongguk is dressed like a gentleman tonight. Will follow your rules, just like he always has done.

He pulls away before you've even really begun to acknowledge the sensation of pleasure he commands through your body. He's catching a quick breath, too. Looks up at you, eyes devastatingly doe-like.

"More?" he poutily asks.

And you just can't stop yourself from nodding, fingers still raked in his hair. "Yeah, baby. More, please."

He doesn't need telling twice. His lips press kisses against you, tongue stroking. With long, flat licks, and sharp, direct flicks, he varies his rhythm like there's music in his veins. Is an expert at the melody of you. Can play along without any sheet music. Just needs you as his conductor.

And conduct, you do.

"Fingers," you whimper after no more than a minute.

"Hm?" Hums against you as if he isn't desperate to do more. He just wants you begging, now.

"Finger me, Gguk."

Again, he doesn't need telling twice. His long middle finger pushes into you, curving instantly. He knows your body well enough now to know all your weak points. When your legs do a little involuntary shake, he knows he's found what he's after.

"So fuckin' good," you whine, head tipping back, one of your hands reaching back to hold onto the wall for support. "Keep going."

A second thick finger is pushed into you with ease. So desperate for him, you know that you'd probably even be fine with three. It'd be no match for his cock, and how perfectly it stretches you out. The thought of it alone is enough to make you moan.

"Oh, god," you breathe out as the sensation of building pleasure washes over you. You're so much closer than you really ought to be. Just a natural consequence of the honour you think comes with fucking a man like him; knowing that you make an earth-bound deity like him weak, too.

"Hold that thought, baby," Jeongguk whispers, pulling away from you, fingers still stroking up against your g-spot. His lips are covered in your arousal, the sheen of moonlight making him look ever so pretty. "Phone."

Your eyes are locked on him, even as he takes his phone from his pocket to check the caller ID.

And to your fucking shock, he answers it.

It's more than that, though.

He answers with a smirk. Looks up at you as he says hello—and then silently lets his tongue slowly drag up your cunt.

"B?" He questions down the phone a second later, the pace of his fingers increasing. "She's just walking off some nerves, I think."

And his tongue is back on you, phone held an inch or so away until he hears the person on the other end finish. You're so scared that the stop-start nature of his teasing will push you over the edge. It's the textbook play to make you cum just that little bit harder, just how Jeongguk really loves it. He's already had a few glasses of champagne tonight, but he'd rather have yours any day of the week. There's just no way in hell you can let it happen, not when he needs to go and face people afterwards.

"The rooftop, yeah," he says, smirking as you widen your eyes. "Nah, you don't need to grab her, I'll go."

He mouths at you to shush, his pretty smile shining just for you.

"Yeah, I'm sure," he says down the phone. "Typical isn't it? Climax of the evening, and she's nowhere to be found. Don't worry, though; I've got this, Hobbes. Yeah, yeah, I'll make her come. No worries."

When he hangs up, his lopsided grins doesn't even think to utter an apology.

"Hear that?" he teases. "Gotta hurry up and cum, baby."

"He's gonna disown us both," you tell him, but Jeongguk just shakes his head. Nudges his nose up against you. Presses a kiss to your clit, then gets back to business.

It's like an old dance at this point. Jeongguk knows all the steps. He could make you cum so easily if he wanted to—and now, he does want to. He's had his fun. Knows that no matter how hard you cum, you won't be fully satisfied until he fucks you.

"Cum before he starts looking for you, and he'll never know," Jeongguk shrugs his shoulders, then begins to rub small circles on your clit with his other hand. It's a combination he knows has lethal outcomes.

Your legs are frail and limp as he begins his relentless pursuit of your pleasure.

"That's it, babe," he husk. "Cum for for me."

Like the collapse of a damn, the sensation of Jeongguk's fingers spills you over the edge. The trembling of your whines and the shaking of your legs give it away. Your grip on his hair is painfully tight, but he kinda likes it.

"Attagirl, baby," he praises, then wraps his lips around your clit for the final few pulses of your orgasm. Moans against you. Nods. Pulls away from you slowly. Laughs. Rests his head against your thigh. "Just cancel the auction. Let me fuck you, instead."

Laughing now, too, you shake your head and encourage him to his feet. He's about to nudge his nose against yours when you stop him in his tracks.

"Uh-uh," you shake your head. "I've gotta go schmooze people."

"But I just made you cum."

"And you know I love you for it," you promise. Hold his chin so he can't sneakily divert his lips as you press a kiss to his cheek, then whisper in his ear, "But you also know I'm gonna return the favour later, Gguk."

"I'll die before you get the chance," he whines.

You sigh with a smile. Glance behind yourself to check that the coast is clear, before you do something you would have never dreamt of doing with anyone else.

Hooking your thumbs beneath either side of your underwear, you quickly shimmy them down your legs, until they're by your ankles. Stepping out of them before they reach the floor, your elevated heels act as a saving grace, you're sin dressed up in a pretty dress.

Jeongguk watches on, wholly bemused. Licks his lips when you stand directly in front of him, then silently lets them part as you press the soaked fabric against them.

He welcomes your underwear in his mouth. Sucks the taste of you from lace, his heavenly eyes closed, lashes splaying on his cheeks.

Without a word, you pull them back. Begin to fiddle with his belt buckle and find it incredibly easy to loosen. Unbuttoning his trousers, you're well aware that you're pressed for time, but you don't care. Nothing else matters.

He groans as your hand dips down into his boxers. He's so hard. It's gonna be damn hard for him to hide it. Might have to send you back down alone.

But when you start jerking him off with the same hand that's holding your soaked underwear? The wet fabric pressed against him as your other hand grips his hair to keep his eyes on yours?

God, he thinks he'll die .

But then you've got that look on your face—the one that Jeongguk know means no good. Wrapping the fabric around his thick shaft, you pump his cock once more. Twice, because you just can't help it. Readjust him. Get his desperate desire for you obscured. He's in boxer briefs, which helps. They're tight, and if you angle things just right, he can hide the fact he's two damn strokes away from coming undone.

You do his trousers back up. Belt, too.

"I'm literally gonna cum in my pants," Jeongguk groans, all pathetic and stroppy.

"No, you won't," you grin, though you'd kind of love it if he did. Turning to walk away, you call after him. "C'mon! I need to run to the bathroom, quickly. Can you tell Hobes I'll just be a minute?"

Jeongguk is right behind you. Lifts your dress as you walk ahead of him just to squeeze your ass cheeks. You let him. Just sort of ignore it, because it's not exactly an unusual occurrence with him.

Part of you is worried about this whole no-underwear thing. It's a short dress; all it'll take is a little stumble to flash an entire room of people you're trying to impress.

It's painfully clear that your desperate need to fuck Jeongguk at all times will surely one day be detrimental, but for now, you'll hope for the best.

"I'm so fuckin' hard I'm gonna die," he tells you again. Is a little sterner. A little more convicted. Has fully convinced himself that mortality lingers on undelivered orgasms. "I can't talk to Hoseok like this. What if he thinks it's for him ?"

"He'd probably be up for it as long as Joon could join in, too," you tease him, then add, "But it'll probably help if you stop touching my ass."

"Okay, firstly, what's yours is mine. And secondly, please don't put that mental image of Joon into my head—"

"Kinda hot."

"Byeol."

"What? He's got great thighs."

"Keep this up, and I'll bend you over mine," he threatens, as if the prospect of getting spanked doesn't excite you even more.

"Oh, nooo," you feign distress. "Please, don't do that! I hate it when you do that!"

Laughing, Jeongguk does give you a light spank just before you start heading down the stairs. "You're the fuckin' worst."

"S'why you're with me," you beam. Even if Jeongguk can't see your smile, he can hear it. Knows how radiant you must look right now.

Gently brushing the front of his trousers, Jeongguk checks to make sure his cock is as disguised as it can be. Hopes it just looks like he's packing—of which he most definitely is, but that's beyond the point.

Once you reach the bottom of the stairs, Jeongguk squeezes your side just before you head in opposite directions. It's a silent comfort. He touches you so often, not because he likes to be a nuisance, but because it eases that part of his brain that really is a nuisance.

Picking up one of the complimentary mints by the front desk, Jeongguk bites into it as he heads towards the main gallery hall. He knows that as much as your taste is his favourite thing in the world, it's not exactly appropriate for such an occasion.

Then again, nor is having your wet thong wrapped around his cock, but that's neither here nor there.

"Find her?" Hoseok asks as Jeongguk tries to slip into the room unnoticed.

Nodding, Jeongguk also reaches for a champagne flute on the tray being carried by a server.

"Yeah, she's just checking herself over in the bathroom."

"Okay, good. Oh, also—" Hoseok reaches over to tweak one of the buttons on Jeongguk's shirt. Looking down, Jeongguk realises he'd left far more undone than he thought he had. "—If you're gonna tell white lies about what you're up to, don't get caught red-handed. Or glitter-handed, would be better, I suppose. Maybe you should have gone to the bathroom, too. Checked yourself over, Cassanova."

Scrunching his face up, Jeongguk doesn't have time to respond before Hoseok swans off again. It's far better than his boner being noticeable, but it's embarrassing nonetheless. Better Hoseok notice rather than anyone else, though.

One day, the pair of you will be able to control yourselves, but it is not today. Likely won't be tomorrow, or the next day, either. In fact, it probably won't ever happen, but you can pretend like dignity will one day be a trait in your repertoire.

Still, when Jeongguk notices you smiling and chatting with important people in suits a few minutes later, he can't help but think you look incredibly dignified.

Then he remembers you're without your underwear. Considers dying again.

Through the speaker system, Shinwon's voice calls the room to attention. Unbeknownst to you both, it's perhaps the third time he's given a small indication for people to gather in the main hall.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, the skills auction is about to commence. Please join us in the main Gallery Hall. Auction directories are available at the back of the room."

The chatter quietens down, and it's up to you to lead command of the room.

There's no stage, thank god, just a podium for the auctioneer to stand behind. The underwear situation would have been dreadful otherwise.

Jeongguk watches on with unbridled adoration as you work the room. It's one thing to see you command a conversation amongst friends. Another, amongst professionals. But this? All eyes on you? Everyone sparkling in your presence? It's an honour.

He wonders how many people will begin to adorn themselves in glitter as a result of you. Wonders if you realise just how captivating you truly are.

The audience laughs when you're a little bit awkward in the most charming of ways, and they cheer when you reveal the first ticket item to be one you personally submitted.

"Now, I may be slightly biased, but even though this is the first item of the night, I think it's just as valuable as some of our later items. Someone always has to go first, though. It's an honour to kick off the auction with a private evening for two at Pot & Paint—arguably the city's finest artist establishment," you joke, knowing damn well that you've got nothing on the Ryu. The audience laughs with you, which does settle your nerves a little bit.

"Hosted by yours truly," you continue, "It's the perfect opportunity to unwind and indulge in your own artistic talents. Included are all the materials you'll need, four hours reserved off just for you, and complimentary drinks throughout the evening. Hosted by yours truly, I'll be there to assist throughout the night. Perfect for a date, for friends, or family. This is a money can't buy experience, as we don't typically do private rentals. There's a reserve of 50 thousand won."

Pitch complete, you pass control over the auctioneer to kick off the bidding process. Taking a deep breath, you'd been able to hide just how nervous you were while you were speaking. Your body language is far more reserved now that you're no longer performing.

Glancing up, you find Jeongguk in the crowd, and it all just sort of melts away.

He pouts his lips together. Presses a kiss into the air. Smiles, when you smile, too. Nods. You did good, B.

The auction starts with ease. Ten thousand, then twenty. Before you know it, the fifty thousand threshold has been hit. Your first real victory of the night. Sure, fifty thousand won won't buy you much—some cutlery, or maybe just a couple of pizzas for the team after a hard day of working at the restaurant—but it's a start.

You haven't been keeping an eye on Jeongguk's bar tab idea, wanting to leave that to him, so you really have no idea how things stand at the moment.

The bidders are random audience members. There's not much buzz around this listing—after all, people are here for the big items like Yoogni's custom furniture and Taehyung's art—but it's a nice way to ease the crowd into bidding.

Your eyes follow the raised papers when new bids are called.

But then eighty thousand won is called, and the elation that's been simmering in your veins freezes over.

Standing towards the back of the crowd, hand raised, smirk present, is Kim Seokjin. Every bit the asshole he always has been. Has that look upon his face you always used to hate; I win.

"Ninety thousand," calls a far more comforting voice from across the room, and just like that, your blood feels warm once more.

Gaze hard; Jeongguk is locked in on you. There are stars in the space between you, but it feels like a black hole is about to swallow you right up.

"A hundred thousand." Seokjin's voice booms through the room, but it isn't enough to shatter the vibrational pull Jeongguk has on you.

"A hundred and fifty thousand," Jeongguk calls out, raising his hand. Doesn't care how ridiculous the price might be. What he's doing isn't making a bet. Not really. He's making a promise.

I've got you, baby, his slow nod and furrowed brows tell you.

"Two hundred," Seokjin calls without missing a beat.

Jeongguk glances across to Seokjin. Glares. Briefly considers throwing his champagne flute at Seokjin's head.

Instead, he refocuses on you. Ups his bid. "Two fifty."

"Three hundred."

"Three fifty."

Anyone who doesn't know you would most likely think nothing much of the unfolding bidding battle. It's an auction. It's what happens. They just really love painting, apparently. The best—or should that be the wealthiest—man always wins.

The issue is that Jeongguk can bid all he likes, but you both know he doesn't have the money to pay for it. The only person he'll be cheating is himself when the night's earnings are tallied, and he'll have lost out on however much a genuine bid could have been for the private use of the art cafe.

This place is full of art lovers, critics, and collectors. Though it was never a high-ticket item, it was still one that you know you could have made money from.

Everyone can see Jeongguk and Seokjin battling it out. Nobody else is even gonna bother.

Their bids inch up and up and up. You wish you had never mentioned that you'd personally be at the winners' beck and call for the duration of their time spent in the cafe. You know that's what's motivating Seokjin right now.

"Five hundred thousand," he says, hand raised, an arrogant smirk being rightfully ignored by you.

"Six hundred," Jeongguk counters, growing impatient with this stupid fuckin' game of cat and mouse.

And so Seokjin decides to really rub salt in the wounds of Jeongguk's financial instability. He doesn't know much about him, but he knows he's just finished school and is relying on fundraising for his business.

It's cute, Seokjin thinks, that Jeongguk believes he can satisfy a girl like you.

"One million won."

There's silence. A gasp or two.

Until, all rather suddenly, there's a sigh. A cough. A hand raised towards the back of the room, far behind both Jeongguk and Seokjin.

Husky as he speaks, the new bidder draws a stunned silence from the room when he simply says, "One hundred million won."

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pshfantasy · 4 months ago

Text

CONFUSION — psh.

genre . fluff? with heated kissing only

pairing . academicrival!sunghoon x femreader

warnings . kissing, ass-gripping

a/n — if people ask for a part two, ill make one as this is pretty short ☝️ the part two will be smutty though. i take requests and this is my first fic so feedback is appreciated!

You and Sunghoon have been at each others necks for the past few years, to say the least. The school knew the both of you as “the rival lovers” because as much as you guys would deny it, everyone thought you were secretly dating. Whenever you hear that title, you internally throw up because — You? Dating Sunghoon? never.

Sunghoon, on the other hand, likes the title. He would never tell you but, he thinks you're the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. Yes — the two of you were always bickering, but could he help thinking like that? The way you look up at him, pout, talk, everything you do makes him attracted to him.

It was the afternoon, and as always, you went to the library to study. There was an upcoming exam, one you were determined to beat Sunghoon in as he'd been on a winning streak so far. You just wanted to wipe that smirk off his face, make him realise you were more than capable of winning.

Of course, Sunghoon was in the library as well. He had already guessed that you'd try extra hard to beat him in this exam, so he wasn't about to take his chances and not study. The exam was based on English language and literature, a subject Sunghoon always excelled in. He was not about to let you get better marks.

You were busy writing notes, but you got distracted, looking up, catching sight of Sunghoon. There he was, focused, biting a pen whilst looking down at his textbook.

‘Has he always been this attractive?’ you think to yourself, tilting your head. Your eyes can't help but go down to his lips, noticing how plush and pink they were. You shake your head, blaming the fact your period was coming soon, and so you'd find anything attractive.

Sunghoon was more than aware that you are staring at him, but he doesn't do anything. He just lets you stare. He bites back a smirk, knowing you were probably admiring his looks. Yeah, he is well aware that he's attractive, girls drool over him all the time.

There was a small storage room with shelves, where you have to put the books you borrowed away. You get up, picking up the textbook you were finished with, heading to the storage room. Was it a coincidence that Sunghoon also got up at the same time to return his textbook? You ignore him, twisting the door knob and walking inside.

He follows you, walking behind you, into the dark room.

You can feel him behind you, but you say nothing. Lately there has been some... tension, between the two of you.

“So you're just gonna keep ignoring me, now?” he says, his hands finding their way to your hips. You don't even fight it, letting his hand find ownership.

“I’m not ‘ignoring’ you Sunghoon, I just don't have anything to say.” you say, turning around.

“Oh? You wanna explain why you were practically undressing me with your eyes just now?” he says, staring down at you.

You scoff, trying to deny his claim, knowing fully well it was true. “In what reality was I doing that? I think you've been thinking about me too mu-”

“I have and it's driving me insane,” he says, cutting you off, “do you know how pretty you look working so hard to beat me?”

This takes you by surprise, which makes you tilt your head in confusion. He thinks you're pretty? He's been thinking about you?

“Sunghoo-” you start, not even being able to say his name before he cuts you off again.

“Fuck this, I’m going to go crazy if I don't do this now.” he says, leaning down, the same lips you were staring at crashing down onto yours.

The kiss begins slow, almost hesitant, but as the seconds go on you find yourselves all over each other. The pent-up frustration and need pours into this kiss, betraying whatever harsh words the two of you would throw at eachother.

His hands that were at your hips were now lowering down to your ass, possessively gripping what he considered his, making you whine. Your hands are feeling all over his shoulders and arms, the same arms that you'd secretly been staring at due to his massive biceps.

What is this feeling? You want him, but you feel like it's wrong to want to fuck your rival. If you were to fuck him, you'd be giving him your first time.. Do you really want that?

The kiss gets more heated, and the longer it goes on the smaller the room feels. The two of you feel the need to move, but are constantly reminded by the fact that you're in a library.

You both pull away, not because you wanted to, but because you needed air. His eyes had darkened, his pupils were dilated, and his pretty lips were swollen. The two of you stare at eachother, panting heavily.

“What are you doing to me?” he says, running a hand through his hair.

You wish you had an answer to his question, you wish you could ask him the same question. But, being honest, you had no idea.

“I don't know.”

You were confused, to say the least.

#enhypen #enhypen fic #enhypen smut #enha x reader #enha fluff

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gladerwolfstarkimagines · 1 year ago

Text

Other Parts: Part One, Part Three (short version), Part Three (long version) and Part Four.

Finnick was woken by a loud knock on his door. He startled and was confused as to where he was, then he saw you and relaxed. He took some deep breaths to calm his rapidly beating heart and checked his watch. It was 12:00 in the afternoon! You'd both slept in hours after your shifts started. The door went again and he was annoyed at how loud it was. He didn't want it to wake you! So he got up as carefully but quickly as possible and opened the door.

Haymitch was still there leaning against the door and it was only then that Finnick realised he was naked. He shifted so the door covered his lower half and smiled "hey Haymitch, what's up?". "You're 3 hours late for work and Y/n is 4, any idea what happened?". "Oh shoot! We were up late last night exercising and I think we overdid it, sorry Haymitch". "Exercising huh?" Haymitch asked and Finnick nodded "yeah you know like we do in Beetee's lab". Haymitch nodded "right and would you happen to know where Y/n is as she's not answering her door". Finnick was struggling to think of a lie when he was saved.

"You know full well that I'm in here you pervert so leave us alone!" your voice suddenly carried through from Finnick's room and the two men froze. "Can't we have one morning off for fuck sake?" you finished. Finnick smiled "yeah she's fine she's with me" and Haymitch nodded "I figured, yes you can have the morning off Y/n because you already have! They want you in work in half an hour" and with a nod he left.

Finnick closed the door and came back inside to find you awake but still burrowed in his quilt. "Assholes, can't they give us one lie in?". Finnick smiled coming back to you in bed, even if it was just for a few minutes. "I mean we did sleep pretty late". "Yeah because you kept me up most of the night" you smiled tracing his chest before you paused "is this...are you okay with what happened last night" you asked "you seemed pretty sure last night but I wanted to check". In response, Finnick gently kissed you before pulling back. "I'm more than okay with this" he smiled as he leaned over you "I'm happy".

That took you back a bit and you nodded "oh, that's...that's good" you said and Finnick laughed remembering Masons weren't too upfront with their emotions. "I guess we'll have to do it again then" you said and Finnick nodded "definitely, it was the best kind of sparring. I'm pretty sure you won last night but I think next time will be my victory". You were fiercely competitive so that statement got your attention right away. "Really?" you asked "okay then why don't we go right now and see who wins?". You sat up letting the quilt fall away from you and arched your back so you were inches away from Finnick.

It was one of the most beautiful sites Finnick had ever seen and it took everything in him not to kiss you. "I would but if we start we won't be done in half an hour and we don't want to be disturbed, do we?" he asked playing with your chin. You nodded "good point" and moved away from him. "I guess I'll see you next time then" and with a smile, wrapped your towel around yourself and left.

You got to work within half an hour and not a minute sooner. Haymitch saw you walk in and raised an eyebrow. "Thanks for gracing us with your presence" he said and you mock bowed to him "you're so welcome". You were a good worker who just put her head down on got on with it but today was a little different. Finnick kept popping into your head and moments from last night flashed through your head making you smile. You kept thinking about how Finnick looked at you and the things he'd whispered in your ear...it made you walk with a bounce in your step and you felt so desirable. The power of Finnick Odair.

Your excellent mood persisted all day, so much so, you even made some small talk with some co-workers as you were clocking out! You headed straight for the dining room for dinner and that's when you saw Finnick. He was lining up to get his portion when he looked up and spotted you...and a smug smile spread across his face. A matching smirk appeared on your face involuntarily and you grabbed a tray and joined him in line. "Good day at work?" you asked him and he nodded "the best! Then again, I did have a really good sleep last night so that might've helped". You smiled "same, I had the comfiest pillow. A bit clingy but I didn't mind". "Oh I know you didn't mind" Finnick snapped back and he actually made you blush! That never happened and Finnick loved it. He chuckled to himself and didn't take his eyes off you until he got to the front of the line.

Neither of you were too focused on your food and 4 minutes in Finnick just set his knife and fork down "do you want to just head to mine and repeat last night?". "Yes definitely" you agreed standing up and were out of the room in the blink of an eye with a grinning Finnick trailing.

It was like that a lot at first, the two of you sneaking off together and constantly swapping between your room and his depending on which one of you caved faster. You loved everything about being with Finnick and had truly found your match. Nobody had even been able to capture your attention nor make you crumble as quickly as him and you couldn't stop yourself going back for more. Luckily, the feeling was mutual.

4 weeks from when you and Finnick had first hooked up, things had settled down a little. You weren't constantly trying to rip each other's clothes off and could now be in close proximity without it turning into a make-out session. So sitting across the table from him as you ate dinner was safe for you now. It was Monday and one of the days you had training planned. "I was speaking to Gale earlier and he said he'd appreciate some combat lessons so I said he could join us tonight" you told Finnick. He paused and looked at you "in our sparring sessions?". You nodded "yeah, you don't mind sharing right?" with a purposeful look and Finnick shot you a winning smile "the more the merrier".

That was not the vibe you got when Finnick walked into the training room but it probably didn't help that you and Gale had both arrived early and were already sparring when he walked in. You and Gale were standing metres apart, each trying to catch the other one off guard. You heard the door open and knew it would be Finnick, Gale looked up to check and you used that to your advantage. You managed to get Gale on the floor and stabbed a knife next to his head "dead!" you declared happily "hey Finnick". "Hey" he said dryly.

You'd noticed Finnick had lots of different voices and faces, almost like they were performances and the voice he was using tonight was his public one. "So I see you got right into it". Gale nodded getting to his feet "thanks for letting me join, I'm good with a gun but don't have much experience fighting hand-to-hand". Finnick nodded "well we can definitely help you out with that. Why don't we spar together?" he asked gesturing between Gale and himself. Gale nodded "sure!" and the two lined up. You could see how tense Finnick was and despite Gale being the bigger of the two, you didn't like his chances.

You were right, Finnick made sure Gale spent most of the time on the floor and he walked out of the training room a lot stiffer than when he walked in. "That was mean" you commented and Finnick shrugged "I have no idea what you're talking about".

You changed the subject and managed to get Finnick back to normal until you passed Katniss on the coridoor. "Oh hey Gale mentioned he sparred with you two, I didn't know you were training". You nodded "yeah have been for a few weeks now" and Katniss nodded. "You can join us if you want?" you offered and Katniss smiled "thanks, I might do" you walked away.

When you were alone you asked Finnick if he'd mind Katniss joining. He shook his head "no Katniss is fine" and you couldn't help but smile. "What?" Finnick asked and you laughed. "I was joking earlier but are you really jealous of Gale? You hated him joining". Finnick didn't reply so you knew it was true and took in a sharp breath. "Wow, the god himself Finnick Odair is jealous!" you gasped mock fainting and Finnick rolled his eyes. "He's a good-looking guy okay, I could see any girl liking him...possibly including the one I'm interested in". "So you were worried I'd trade you in for Gale?" you asked with a smile but there was nothing jokey in Finnick's expression. "Something like that" he agreed staring at you closely "see I know you're into me. I can tell because you told me, you were the one who initiated this and you fall apart every time I touch you". "Not every time" you argued but Finnick shot you down with a sharp "most of the time, especially when I touch you just right" and you felt your breathing increase at the intensity of Finnick. "I don't worry you want me but the idea of Gale or another guy touching you" Finnick let out a sigh "I don't like that, as far as I'm concerned it's my job to please you and nobody can do it better than me". You tilted your head to one side "really...because Gale is taller than you and probably a little stronger than you plus his shoulders are so nice and broad, I could imagine holding onto them all night long". "Stop" Finnick said and you smiled "why, don't like that mental image? Because it's growing on me". "Don't" Finnick said tensely "don't think about him that way". "Make me" you shrugged and it was as if those were the words Finnick had been waiting for.

In seconds he had you pinned to the wall, your arms trapped neck to your head as he fought you for dominance. You kept him going for quite a few minutes and finally Finnick pulled back for breath. "You're cute when you're jealous" you told him and his jaw got even tighter. "If you're so sure I don't have such an effect on you then how about we raise the stakes tonight?" he asked "you can't react to anything I do, if you don't then I'll admit I'm not the best guy to please you but if you move, or whine or moan" he smiled "then I'll stop, until you admit how good I am. Deal?". You loved the sound of having all of Finnick's attention on you so nodded "sure but how are you going to ensure I don't move or play back?". Showing you he'd thought ahead Finnick pulled some straps from out of his drawer and you got the message as he began attaching them to the bed frame. "Come on sweetie, don't get shy on me now" Finnick said patting the bed and your ego came back. "Happily" you replied "I'll even help you out" and removed your clothes swiftly before striding over to him "give it your best shot".

You always were a big talker and this was one of those occasions. Finnick won the bet easily and had you begging for him in minutes. He made you wait a little longer and then finally gave you everything you wanted. Literally everything. You both looked like you'd just taken a shower with how much your were gleaming and you felt on cloud nine. You also must've been going soft in your ripe old 20s because you turned to Finnick and smiled. "Well as amazing as that was, it wasn't too necessary. No guy has caught my attention since you". "Oh really?" Finnick asked sarcastically and you hit his arm. "Shut up! I was trying to be nice!" you said turning away but Finnick caught your arm "no I was just teasing, I get that. I know you weren't worried about other girls but you don't need to be either". You nodded "so in line with that...I'm not seeing anyone else at the moment except you and I'm not planning on changing that, we can keep it just the two of us if you want?". Finnick looked at you "I might want that if you want that? Do you want that" and you grinned "yes you idiot" and Finnick smiled "take that Gale" making you shake your head. "Please, Gale has nothing on you honey" and you swear Finnick had a permanent smile on his face for the rest of the week.

Dating Finnick was not what you expected it to be at all. Some things made sense, like Finnick being extremely hot, flirty and a lot of fun. He loved to be teased and thrived under your attention. However, there were other sides to him you didn't expect. Finnick could be very considerate and attentive, if you mentioned something once to him he'd remember it especially if it was something you said you liked. He did love attention but seemed to love spoiling you more, especially in the bedroom. He was so responsive to your body and would be watching you constantly for clues as to what you'd like best next. He very rarely demanded anything for himself and was definitely a quick learner. He was also softer than you expected, when he told you he preferred to be the little spoon you thought he was joking until you saw how soundlessly he slept in your arms. After that, you let him be the little spoon every time and the smile Finnick gave you each time made it all worth it. You felt really happy with Finnick and it made you wonder if you had any right to feel that way.

"Do you think we should feel bad for this?" you asked him one night and Finnick looked at you "For us? Annie's dead and you've...never had any other partners?". You elbowed him in the chest making him laugh "please I've had tons of others! Men and women swoon at the sight of me". "That I can believe" he smiled turning on his stomach so he could see you better "okay then for what?". "For enjoying ourselves?" you asked "for...being happy". Finnick looked at you "I'm making you happy?". You blushed but nodded "since we've gotten together things just seem brighter, more hopeful, happier". Finnick didn't say a word, he just bent down and kissed you. "Y/n there is nothing better in the world than you being happy, so if I make you happy then screw everything else. It can only be a good thing and you deserve this". "Even when Johanna is..." and your voice cracked. Finnick quickly wrapped his arms around you, he held you close and soothed you as you tried not to cry. "It's okay" he said softly "we both know your sister loves you more than anything else in the world. She'd want you to be happy, she'd be glad we found one another and I can't wait to tell her when we rescue her". You looked at Finnick and smiled because this was the first time he'd suggested telling people. He saw your reaction and it warmed his heart so he continued. "I think we should stop hiding it now we're official too, I think we should tell people". You nodded "if you're ready". Finnick laughed "please baby I was born ready" making you laugh too. "Okay then, we'll tell people" you agreed and Finnick nodded. "After tomorrow though, I want you all to myself for another 24 hours" and there was no way you could say no to that.

Neither of you said anything public to announce your relationship, instead, you just stopped being discreet. You'd already been pretty suspicious so when people saw Finnick kiss you in the dining room that confirmed it and the rumour spread like wildfire, even to the highest in the chain.

"You and Finnick?" Katniss asked as she saw you in the corridor and you looked up surprised. "I'm shocked you noticed Mockingjay". "Prim told me" she admitted "She saw you this morning. I wouldn't have noticed if she didn't tell me, I had no idea you two were...was it going on before?". You shook your head "no, I always thought he was hot but I didn't meet him until a year after Johanna won. Then he was so focused on Annie, I don't think he knew any other girls existed. This all happened after we got here". Katniss nodded "I'm happy for you" she said and you smirked "well you could try and sound it!". Katniss went to apologise but you brushed her off "come on don't be stupid, I know you're happy for us and you don't have to pretend to be over the moon just for appearances. Coin did that and it was so fake". "Really?" Katniss asked and you nodded "she called Finnick and I into her office and told us how happy she was we'd found happiness here and then asked if we'd broadcast it to the Capitol". "What did you say?" Katniss asked and you grinned "I told her no of course! So don't worry, you don't have to do or say anything, you don't owe us or anyone anything". Katniss nodded to you "thank you" and you could feel some heavy emotion in those words. You knew things had been difficult for her and again felt guilty you and Finnick were having it so easily. You put a hand on her arm "District 13 might want to hire you as an actress but you don't have to do that around me".

Your mind sometimes went to dark places and one evening while Finnick was polishing his trident you let your thoughts come out. "What do you think it would've been like if we were in the same games together?" you asked. "In the quarter quell?" Finnick asked "we'd have teamed up of course". You shook your head "no in a normal game, if you got reaped later and I got reaped earlier". Finnick looked at you and shook his head "I don't even want to think about that" but you weren't having that. "Oh come I know you have because I have. Whenever I spar you there's a part of me wondering if I'd be able to kill you. If you were coming at me to murder me I'd be able to take you down instead. If you'd be a threat or a cannon".

Sometimes Finnick forgot the games had left a mark on you because you hid it a lot better than anyone he knew. He forgot you weren't just a hot pretty flirty girl but a victor who had killed 5 people in her own games. You were a murderer just like him.

He took a breath "well I think you could kill me and you could use your brains to do so. You're smarter than me, sometimes quicker and have good endurance. In the games, I think it would've just depended on circumstance as to which one of us killed the other". You seemed satisfied with that answer and nodded.

"Gale said they might be ready to put me in combat soon" you said trying to change the subject but it wasn't a great one. Finnick must've done a worse job hiding his face than he thought because you took his hand. "I know you're not too keen on me fighting but I'm doing well in training and think I'll be able to help. Plus it's not a famous victor like you or Katniss so it's no great risk". "Don't say that" Finnick said and you shrugged "why it's true". "It's not" Finnick said "you're valuable Y/n and a lot of people care about you, i care about you". You turned to look at him as if checking he was being serious. Finnick stared into your eyes and eventually your own softened. "Thanks, I care about you two" you said hugging him "but you don't need to worry. Nothing's agreed yet". "I hope it never is" he said and he wasn't joking.

Something changed in your relationship that night. It was no longer just sex but had crossed into something else. Finnick held onto you tighter and it dawned on him how much he'd come to rely on you. How much he craved as well as needed you. Finnick realised this was something more serious than he'd even realised.

You didn't know there was a rescue attempt for the other victors until Finnick told you he'd be broadcasting while they did it. He seemed nervous when he explained it to you making you pause. "But you'll be safe the whole time right, you'll be here?" and Finnick nodded "oh yeah don't worry I'll just be talking" but the way he said it didn't make sense. Then when he started talking about his life in the capitol it all made sense.

Everyone was of course fixed on the task force infiltrating the capitol but you couldn't tear your eyes off of Finnick. It was like a bad dream, the more he said, the more horrified you became. You had no idea all the things that had been done to him and his body, the things they had made him do and let people do to him. Just when you thought the Capitol couldn't get any worse they surprised you. Finnick came to your room late that night and the second he stepped in the doorway you just stared at one another. You broke the silence first.

"I'm really sorry" you said quietly "for what they did to you I...I had no idea". Finnick shrugged "it's okay I mean why would you?". You didn't know what to say or do, you just wanted to hug Finnick but also didn't want to touch him in case it scared him. Finnick looked up and smiled sadly to see you watching him so carefully "you're frowning" he said "careful it will give you wrinkles". His smile and words didn't match though and he stopped after he saw your response. "Y/n it's okay" he said "it was a long time ago". "But those sorts of things stick with you" you said "they don't just go away...is that what you have nightmares about?". Finnick's eyes went away, you saw his consciousness disappear for a second and you wanted to sob but you stopped yourself from crying. This wasn't about you or your tears, it was about Finnick. You could cry later.

He came back to you and let out an awkward laugh "yeah sometimes, it's always either in the games or after the games, sometimes I think I've left the games but I haven't and at times I can't actually tell which was worse". You swallowed and stepped forwards "we will make them pay for this Finnick, I swear to you I will avenge your child self, I will get justice for what they did to you. You will not have suffered for nothing".

Finnick stared at you without blinking and you wondered if he'd gone away again until a tear fell down his cheek. "Thank you" he said, his voice strained as he was clearly holding it in. "Can I...can I hug you?" you asked and Finnick nodded his head, immediately more tears fell and he began to sob as you hugged him. You held him as he cried his eyes out and comforted him as best you could. You held onto him tightly and once he'd got through the worst of it whispered how he was safe and loved. "I won't let anything bad happen to you again" you told him and he clung to you.

He needed to believe that and luckily, you meant every word.

Later that night, something occurred to you. "Finnick, is your experience as a young Victor the reason you pulled away from me when I first got out? We were close and then you started avoiding me". Finnick looked down before nodding "it was Johanna's idea and I agreed with it the second she suggested it. Johanna did a pretty great job scaring people off her but she'd marketed you as this pretty charming girl. We were scared if people saw you with me, the people who bought me would want to buy you...or even both you and I together" Finnick swallowed "so Joanna took your home, made sure everyone saw you with your scary sister and waited for the buzz to die down. I'm sorry I avoided you". You nodded "it's okay, I just totally knew you were into me and there had to be a logical reason you backed off instead of you not being attracted to me". Finnick laughed and it was a genuine one. You were growing to love those smiles and it worried you but there was nothing you could do about it. It was like falling down a hole, you couldn't stop yourself and didn't know if you even wanted to.

Finnick shook his head coming towards you "well you're right, I thought you were beautiful when I first saw you and I've always been attracted to you. I'm glad I'm finally able to tell you" he said and then got his mischievous smile "and do this" and he leaned in to kiss you.

It was a good kiss. The kind that had you breathless but wanting more. Finnick pulled away knowing that and shot you a downright devilish smile "am I forgiven?". "You know you are you smug git!" you cried and Finnick pulled you even closer. "You know you love it" he commented and you couldn't even argue with that.

You couldn't sleep until you got word from your sister and you and Finnick stayed awake as you waited for news. Then, after hours of silence, everything was chaos and you ran to the infirmary to see people everywhere. Nobody could tell you what happened or even if Johanna was alive. You were getting more and more frantic when you heard "Y/n there!" as Finnick grabbed your arm and you spotted her.

"Johanna!" you cried rushing over to her. She was ripping some cords off her arm when she smiled at you. "Y/n" she said and she opened her arms. You rushed into them and hugged her tightly making her wince. "Careful kid I'm still injured remember?" she asked. "Then why were you ripping all the wire out that help you?" you shot back and your sister smirked "touché, has she been this smart-mouthed since I've been gone Finnick?". Finnick was standing at the end of her bed, smiling a the two of you. Everything felt right in the world, you were leading a rebellion, you had Finnick, you had your sister back... then everything went to shit.

Finnick went to answer your sister when with a sharp scream a red-headed girl engulfed him in a hug. "Annie?" he asked looking as if he'd just seen a ghost and you looked to Johanna "we thought she was dead?". "Nope, Capitol just said that. I think it's when they started suspecting things were up but she's fine and they're back together".You followed her gaze to where Annie was now in Finnick's arms. Finnick was searching her face, clearly asking her the same questions you'd asked Johanna and then she leaned down and kissed him.

You felt like the wind had been knocked out of you and you turned to Johanna "we need to get these all back in you" you said pointing to the wires on the floor "doctor!" and you took off after one heading as far away from Finnick and the love of his life as you possibly could.

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spnexploration · 1 year ago

Text

Escort

Synopsis: Dean needs an escort to help him with his cover on a case (more of a case fic with flirting, no smut)

Pairing: I see it as Dean Winchester x reader but could be read as Dean Winchester x OC (no physical descriptions are given and she goes by what is clearly a fake name the whole time)

Warnings: Canon-typical violence

Words: 3k

This fulfils the Escort square of my 2023 SPN AU Bingo @spnaubingo

A/N: It's nice to write a really competent, confident female character!

Supernatural writing masterlist

“Dean,” Sam implored, “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Sammy, I swear to God, you keep whining about the plans and I’m gonna stop telling you the plans.”

“She’s a distraction at best, and a liability at worst!”

Dean rounded on him, “Is your complaint because she sells her services?”

“What? No.”

“Really? Because you’ve sure made a lot of jokes over the years about women in her line of business.”

“Dean, stop it. I’m worried about her getting hurt, or getting you hurt.”

“It will be fine. For all she knows, I just needed a girl to make me look good to the other suits. She won’t even know I’m casing the joint while we mingle. Nothing will happen, you and I will go back later without the girl. Girl will just earn some easy cash looking pretty.”

Sam sighed. Dean took that as a win. He gave his brother one last look before grabbing his keys off the motel room table. “I’ll go find a girl.”

---

Dean rolled down the window as he pulled up to a girl standing on the street corner. He was already in a tux. “Hey sweetheart,” he said as he rolled down the window. “You wanna have a Pretty Woman moment tonight?”

She looked like she was struggling to control the urge to roll her eyes. He liked her already.

“Hey handsome,” she said, leaning through the open car window. “What did you have in mind?”

“I need an escort for a big fancy party my work is throwing.”

“And you didn’t want to call a real escort service?”

“The others probably know all of them.” She laughed. “So I thought I’d branch out.” In reality, he didn’t want the arrangement written down anywhere.

“And let me guess, you want some services that aren’t available on their menu, too?”

“Nah, strictly escort tonight. Possibly the easiest money you’ll make, except for the need to smile your way through painful small talk about the best way to fold napkins.”

“And what would you have me wear?” she asked in a sultry voice.

“I got ya a dress. It’s in the back, we’ll go to the service station and you can get changed in the bathroom.”

“How long’s the party?”

“Few hours.”

“I charge $120/hr.”

“Fine.”

She opened the car door and slid inside. “Nice car,” she remarked as she ran her hands over the seat.

“My Baby’s the best,” Dean replied with a smirk, before speeding off.

---

Dean pulled up to the line of cars waiting to go into the party. He turned to the woman beside him, now resplendent in a beautiful dress he’d gotten at the op shop earlier that afternoon.

“Uh, I uh, I forgot to ask. What should I call you?” he said, suddenly awkward.

She laughed. “You can call me… Hazel.”

“Alright, Hazel it is. Where’d we meet?”

“The street corner.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “I had a flat and you helped me with it.”

“Ok. Recently?” He enjoyed letting her lead.

“Just the other day.”

“Sounds good.”

“So, what do I call you, handsome?”

“Drake,” Dean said, his hand on the car door handle as a valet came up to greet them. He headed around the car and opened her door, holding his hand out to help her out. He reached his arm around her waist and held her to him. “I’m new at the company,” he whispered, “So not many people know me.”

She shot him a quick, concerned glance before schooling her features back into a smile. Dean led her up the steps and into the party, flashing two tickets on his way past.

---

The party was going well. No one seemed to mind that they’d never seen him before in their lives, and Hazel fit in better than he could have imagined. He hadn’t expected that the girl he’d gotten off a street corner would be able to pull off the escort idea, but he’d been hoping she would take the attention away from him. That wasn’t happening now that she was actually good at it, but instead they seemed to be blending in. He’d take it.

He put his hand on the small of her back and leaned down to her ear, “I gotta go to the bathroom, I’ll be back.” She smiled at him and he walked off. He glanced around the room, but he couldn’t see the artefact he was looking for.

He headed into another room, still surreptitiously checking out the walls and display cases. He headed for an empty corridor and pulled his phone out, quickly dialling Sam. “Yo, you got any idea where this thing might be? It’s not in the main hall.”

“Dean, you are the one who said that was exactly where it would be and we didn’t need any further investigation!”

“Yeah, well, I might be wrong. Zero amulets.”

“I dunno, keep scoping out the place. What’d you do with the girl?”

“Told her I was going to the bathroom, so I can’t take too long.”

“Yet another reason it was a bad idea to take her.”

“Shut it, bitch.” Dean hung up the phone, Sam was no use.

He quickly scoped out the room closest to him before deciding he needed to head back to his date.

---

She smiled as he approached. “You took a while,” she said.

“Couldn’t find it, and then there was a line of women. They take forever.”

“You try peeing in one of these dresses.”

“Nah, I’m good,” he said with a grin. She really was perfect, he’d like to have taken her out for real some time.

He glanced around, seeing the drinks table. “You want another-” he started to ask, before fading out. He saw it, the amulet. It was around the neck of the bloody hostess of the party. Not. Good.

“Yes?” Hazel asked, drawing his attention back to her.

“I- uh- sorry.”

“You see something you like?” she said with a smirk, following his line of sight to the beautiful woman with the amulet.

“Oh, no, just, you know, lost my train of thought.”

“Uh huh,” she replied, deadpan.

He looked back at her properly, “Tonight’s all about you, sweetheart.” He flashed her a smile, that usually worked.

“Let’s go talk to her, if you’re so enamoured,” she said, starting to walk towards the lady.

“No! No, wait!” he said, reaching for her hand to prevent her getting near the woman. He had a sneaking suspicion that being near the amulet would’ve been very bad for the hostess, given the descriptions he’d read about its powers. It hadn’t been entirely clear, but he had a feeling she might be being possessed by a powerful being. He didn’t want Hazel anywhere near her.

Hazel rolled her eyes and tugged her hand of his grip, heading towards the woman. “No, Hazel!” Dean said, which brought the attention of the hostess on him.

“HUNTERS!” she yelled, suddenly holding a fireball in her hand. Fuck, a witch. Hazel had paused in shock, so Dean grabbed her waist and pulled her behind him. Others were screaming and running. The witch threw the fireball, Dean dived out of the way and pulled Hazel along with him. He raced to hide behind the bar as she threw another one. The room was rapidly emptying of party-goers, running for their lives.

He reached into his pants and pulled out his gun. “Stay down,” he hissed at Hazel, who had just peeked over the bar. To his dismay, he saw her reach up under her dress and similarly pull out a gun. He groaned.

“NYPD, we can discuss your activities later,” she whispered to him.

“Of all the women on all the street corners, I got the secret cop.” She started looking like she was going to peek over the bar again and he pulled sharply on her arm to keep her down. “If those aren’t witch-killing bullets, you’ve got no chance.”

“Of all the thieves on all the street corners, I had to get the deranged one who thinks witches are real.”

“You see that fireball she threw at us? That ain’t normal, sweetheart.”

Speaking of fireballs, one took that moment to crash into the glass mirror above them, raining small pieces of glass all over them. Dean sheltered Hazel’s body with his own, then pulled out his phone.

“She’s a freaking witch, Sam!” he hissed into the phone after Sam had picked up. “We’re under attack.”

“Who is?”

“The woman who owns the amulet, she’s wearing it!”

There was a loud crack as the bar they were hiding behind took a frontal hit. It wasn’t going to last much longer.

“I’m on my way,” Sam said in the phone.

“That might be too late,” Dean replied, looking for an exit strategy. He couldn’t see one.

“There!” Hazel hissed, pointing at a door in the panelling of the back wall of the bar area. She crawled over to it, wrenching it open. “It’s a dumbwaiter.”

“Get in it,” Dean replied, “I’ll send you down.”

“No, we can both get in it. You’re not going to survive by yourself here.” To emphasise her point, more of the mirror exploded above her head. He was pretty sure the witch was just playing with them now.

He stood up, trying to get a good shot at the witch. She was surrounded by henchmen and impossible to fire at, but she threw another fireball at him.

“Ok,” he said, crossing quickly to her.

“You get in first,” Hazel ordered.

“No.”

“We’ll only fit if I’m on top of you, get in.”

He saw the determination on her face and surrendered. He awkwardly climbed in to the cramped space, then held out his hands to take her. She squished herself in on top of him, hitting a button on the side before closing the door. The cart began to drop.

Dean held his gun up, pointed at the door, as Hazel unlatched it. They were in the wine cellar, with no one around. The staff had probably run off at the sound of the gun fight upstairs. It was even harder to get out then it had been to get in, but they managed it.

Dean took a look around, looking for a door that might lead to the outside. “There,” Hazel whispered, pointing at a door to the left of them. He nodded and followed her, pulling his phone back out of his pocket.

“Sam?”

“Thank God,” Sam replied. He could hear the sound of a car, Sam must’ve jacked one. “What’s going on?”

“We’re in the cellar.”

“Ok, you’re going to need to get out and meet me so we can go back in and gank the witch.”

“I don’t think that’s going to work, Sam. They’re going to be looking for us.”

“What’s your plan?”

“I go back in, gank the witch. Sam, you get Hazel out.”

“Uh huh,” Hazel said, spinning back to him, “And how exactly are you going to do that alone?”

“Sweetheart, this ain’t my first rodeo.”

“As I might have mentioned earlier, mine either.”

“Can someone explain what is going on?” Sam yelled from the phone.

“Hazel’s a cop,” Dean replied, moving very close to her. “But no witch-killing bullets and this ain’t your normal perp, so you’re not coming with me.”

“You try to stop me going in there and it’s a crime,” she glared at him. “Obstruction of justice.”

“The justice you were looking for tonight was men who want to pick up sex workers, not witches who want to kill.”

“I’m multi-tasking.”

“The hell you are.”

“OI!” Sam yelled again. “Can you two stop squaring off for one minute to come up with a plan so you don’t both die?”

“Fine.”

“Right,” Sam continued. “How many witch-killing bullets you got left, Dean?”

“4.”

“Give me 2,” Hazel replied.

“That will halve our chances, sweetheart.”

“You keep being that arrogant and I’ll cuff you to the dumbwaiter.”

“Jesus Christ, can you both stop it?!” Sam complained.

“Ok. I give you two bullets, and then what?”

“I go in as bait,” Hazel responded, “and you hide. If the moment presents itself, you shoot.”

“You are not going in there as bait. I did not drag an innocent into this to get killed. I’ll be bait, you hide.”

She glared at him, but eventually nodded.

“And you’re taking 3 of the bullets.”

“That’s suicide.”

“It increases our chances of you ganking the witch.”

“I’m not a bad shot.”

“Me either.”

“Ok, I’m nearly there,” Sam said from the phone, seemingly forgotten in the standoff between Dean and Hazel. “I’ll try and get in and bring extra munition. I’m tall and I have long hair, please don’t shoot me.”

“Alright, see you soon Sammy.” Dean hung up the phone. He opened his gun and started to take out bullets, handing them to her.

“So,” Hazel said with a smirk, “Dean, is it? That’s what the guy on the phone called you.”

“Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure Hazel isn’t your real name either. I’ll give you 5 minutes to get in a good position before I start the distraction.”

She nodded and started to jog away to the right. He couldn’t believe he was doing this.

---

Dean took a deep breath. He’d pulled out his other gun, filled with silver bullets that were going to be useless against a witch. But they might be good on henchmen, any bullet’s a good bullet if you’re human. And they’d make a distraction.

He put the normal gun in his left hand, saving his one shot with the witch-killing bullet for his dominant hand. He didn’t think he’d get a good shot, but he’d make it count if he did.

He estimated it had been about 5 minutes since Hazel had gone. Show time.

He crept up the stairs at the opposite end to where she’d gone. He could see henchmen scouring the other rooms, probably looking for him and Hazel. He took a moment to steel himself, then headed around the corner, back into the main room.

He started firing with his left-hand gun as soon as he entered the room, taking down random henchmen. Fairly quickly he was having to dive to the side, another fireball headed his way. He didn’t know where Hazel was, which he realised was a bit of a flaw in his plan. He didn’t know where to lead the witch.

Not that he was really in control of the situation. He was barely surviving as it was. He fired over his shoulder and ran for cover.

He was diving for new cover when he spotted Sam out the corner of his eye. He diverted the other direction, hoping he was still creating enough of a diversion.

Suddenly, the room exploded behind him. He span around, ducking his head under his arms to shield himself from debris.

“Witch is dead,” he head Sam yell, “Let’s go.”

“Gotta find the girl,” Dean yelled back, searching around. He could see Sam doing the same thing on the other side of the room, intermingled with the two of them firing at the few henchmen who hadn’t fled or died already. The explosion had been dramatic, Dean had no idea how Sam had caused it.

Dean finally found Hazel, trying to extricate herself from under some debris. He lifted the remnants of a table off her, holding his hand out to her to pull her up. She limped out so he wrapped his arm around her waist, helping her move faster. They quickly made it to Sam and got out of the building.

---

“I don’t know what the hell I just witnessed tonight but I have no idea how I’m going to explain this to my supervisors,” Hazel said when they were back at the Impala.

“If I were you, I’d leave out the witch throwing fireballs. Doesn’t go down well,” Dean replied.

“I suppose you want me to leave out that the serial killers Sam and Dean Winchester were here too.”

Dean shot her a glare. “We’re not serial killers, we hunt the supernatural.”

“And sometimes the supernatural like to impersonate us and give us a bad name,” Sam added. “We didn’t shoot those people in that footage from the bank vault, monsters with our faces did.”

“Any other day and I wouldn’t have believed you, but tonight I’m a little more inclined. One question though – you always pick up random women to bring into harm's way?”

“Uh, not normally, no,” Dean said, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. “I genuinely thought we were just going to be looking for the amulet tonight, and I just wanted someone to try and take some of the attention off me. Sorry.”

She laughed, “Wow, you don’t seem like a man who apologises easily.”

Sam, behind Dean, was laughing and shaking his head.

“So, what are you going to do?” Dean asked her.

“I have to call this in.”

Dean nodded, grimacing slightly.

“But that doesn’t mean I have to mention you,” she continued.

Dean smiled. Sam said, “Thank you.”

“When did you know?” Dean asked. “Who we were, I mean.”

“You looked a little familiar to me when I got in the car, but I thought you’d just been in the photo list of known sex worker users I’d looked at. Wasn’t until I learnt your names were Sam and Dean and you were handing me special bullets that I remembered.”

Dean nodded.

“Alright, you two better hit the road before anyone gets here. They probably already noticed the explosion.”

“Do I get to know your real name?” Dean said with one of his charming smiles. She gave a smirk and pulled a folded business card from out of a hidden compartment in her gun. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

She reached over and kissed his cheek, “Thanks for saving my life.”

“Anytime,” Dean replied, opening the driver’s door and jumping in. Sam jumped in the other side and they sped off, into the night.

“So how’d you make an explosion? Or did she just explode when you shot her?” Dean asked Sam.

“Witch-killing grenade, been working on it as a prototype. Same idea as the bullets.”

“Niiiiiiice.”

Dean twirled the business card in his fingers. Would've liked to get to know that girl some more.

Dean Winchester tag list:

@mrsjenniferwinchester

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#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x OC #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester flirting #spn case fic #x competent reader #x confident reader #dean winchester x escort!reader #spnaubingo #protective!dean winchester #spn fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction

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eiightysixbaby · 2 years ago

Text

make a good girl bad

‘my love, did i mistake you for a sign from god?’

word count: 4.3k

pairing: eddie munson x chrissy cunningham

warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI. smut smut smut smut!!! chrissy’s family is described as being religious - chrissy rejects/slanders this. if this makes you uncomfy please do not read! mention of chrissy having strict parents, unprotected piv, creampie, oral (m receiving), praise and slight degradation, borderline corruption kink? if you squint? chrissy’s not a virgin but eddie definitely rocks her world. brief mentions of drugs (weed).

summary: chrissy’s sick and tired of being hawkins’ resident good girl now that she’s over a year out of high school. when she sneaks her way out of sunday mass with her family, she finds herself claiming a whole new religion: eddie munson.

a/n: aah okay i switched it up from the eddie x reader content for a minute and am feeding my hellcheer heart! needed some nastiness between these two. i absolutely adored writing for them and i’m so happy with this! this fic was loosely inspired by the song ‘the summoning’ by sleep token (listen here) as well as ‘snake charmer’ by blink-182 (listen here)

“You’re running a horrible temperature, dear. I guess you’ll have to stay home from church this morning” Chrissy’s mother tsked, setting the thermometer on the bedside table.

Chrissy’s little ruse had worked, and she gets to skip Sunday mass. Which never, and I mean never, happens. Her mother looks disapprovingly at her before speaking “Well, you’ll have to make up for this next week - perhaps we’ll attend Saturday and Sunday mass. We’ll be back later this afternoon,” and with that she leaves the room, shutting Chrissy’s door behind her.

Chrissy smiles to herself after the door is shut, silently celebrating her small victory.

She doesn’t like lying to her parents, she really doesn’t. But she’s just had enough. The thing is, Chrissy is sick of the life she’s living. She doesn’t want to go to church with her parents every weekend- she doesn’t give a shit about any of it. She’s sick of being a good Christian girl, a golden child, ‘perfect little Christine’. Chrissy turned 20 at the end of June, she finally feels like an adult, and the wild temptation buzzing in the warm summer air has her going stir-crazy. She wants nothing more than to escape her white-picket-fence suburban oasis, sick of being trapped in the prim and proper bubble her mother holds her captive in. In all honesty, Chrissy really can’t be mad at anyone but herself. She could’ve gone away to college, could’ve left Loch Nora in the dust, but instead she chose to stay at home (she leads a cheer camp for the high school in the summer and is a co-coach for the squad during the school year). And she loves what she does, really. But she’s so damn sick of her parents strict rules and playing the role of the good girl all the time.

Chrissy wants to be bad. She wants to get drunk and smoke weed (well, she already does that but.. she wants to do it freely, without a care in the world). She wants to wear tight skimpy clothing, and dance to raunchy music. And most of all, Chrissy wants to have sex. Lots and lots of good sex. See, her ex-boyfriend Jason never cared much about her pleasure while they were together, always making sure he got off and then… they’d be done. Nothing good for her. She genuinely deserves to win an award for Best Supporting Actress for her performed enthusiasm in bed with him. Anyway, Chrissy wants to get fucked, hard. And she thinks she knows just the guy to go to.

She’s been scheming and plotting and planning the downfall of her parents’ golden girl and her entrance into general badassery for a couple months now. And it starts with Eddie Munson (hopefully) ((most likely)). Eddie has a reputation for being the town freak, but he also has a reputation for being insanely fucking good in bed. Chrissy always eats up the gossip on Friday night hangouts with the girls, ‘I heard his dick is like, huge’ ‘He had some girl screaming in the bathroom at Lisa’s party last week..’. She first got to know Eddie for herself when she started buying weed off of him in secret, back in her senior year. She developed a crush on him quite quickly, but she suppressed it, never spoke to him outside of those private moments - what with Jason keeping her attached at his god damn hip to parade around like a show dog. It was nearly impossible to escape his grasp. But now that she’s single, she’s been dipping her toes further in the water with Eddie. Getting a better taste of what he’s like. Talking with him longer when she goes to buy from him, lightly touching him on the arm, dropping more and more subtle flirtations, which he always reciprocates. And god, he’s extremely alluring. He’s sweet as pie, adorably goofy, and always treats her like a queen when they meet. He always has, even when she was too wrapped up in Jason to be a better person to him. But honestly, the moment she first spoke to him she knew she needed to have more.

As soon as her family leaves the house, Chrissy leaps out of bed. She slips out of her pajamas and puts on a short little sundress, one that she never wears around her mother, and turns in the mirror to get a glimpse of herself. The dress stops just below her ass, and it hugs her gently in all the right places. She puts her hair in its typical ponytail, and spreads a dusting of coral colored eyeshadow on her eyelids, finishing the look with mascara. When she deems herself ready, she grabs her car keys and heads out the door. Her palms are sweating as she grips the steering wheel, but nevertheless she backs out of her driveway and exits her neighborhood. Her family usually goes into town after church - and today there’s a bake sale at the library - so she knows she has a good few hours to make her own. She hums along to Heart on the radio as she drives, the breeze blowing her bangs off of her forehead. She pulls into the trailer park, spotting Eddie’s van gleaming at her from the back of the park. She pulls up to his address and quickly applies a thin layer of shiny gloss to her lips, puckering them at herself in the mirror, before exiting the vehicle. She almost feels guilty for coming over unexpected but.. he did tell her to stop by any time she needed anything. And right now, well.. she needs something. She needs him.

She steps away from her car, knocks on the door… tugs nervously at her strawberry blonde ponytail. She hears footsteps inside, shuffling around heavily. The door swings open and there stands Eddie, clad in a tattered Judas Priest t-shirt and a pair of plaid flannel pajama pants, curly hair mussed slightly. She feels her mouth water at the sight of him, like Pavlov’s goddamn dog drooling at the sound of a bell. The thoughts racing through her mind right now would have her mother calling for an exorcism if she could hear them.

“Cunningham, hey…” he starts, fidgeting with the silver rings on his fingers. “Did you, uh.. did you need something? Run through that weed already?” He asks, smiling lightly at her.

“No, no I’ve still got plenty left,” Chrissy responds, and her voice feels small. “I’m here for a different reason, actually? I’m here for you.”

Eddie, very clearly confused, opens and closes his mouth, but no words come out.

“I, um, need a favor from you, Eddie.” She’s shifting on her feet, nervous to say what’s on her mind.

“Well, shit, Cunningham, anything for you,” Eddie gives her a toothy smile.

“I- I need you to fuck me, Eddie. I want to have sex with you,” Chrissy blurts, and she swears she’s never been this bold in her life. Her cheeks heat up as she looks up at him. “I was supposed to go to church with my family this morning but I faked sick… got out of it… and, um, I figured it was the perfect time to ask you.” she’s more nervous now, suddenly feeling like a bug under a microscope, like maybe this is stupid. Maybe she should just go back home.

Eddie genuinely, honestly, is convinced he died in his sleep or something and this is some sick joke his mind is playing on him. Chrissy’s huge blue eyes are staring right through him and he feels like a pile of goo. He’s liked Chrissy since before she ever started buying from him. Admired her from afar, wondered why she stayed with Asshole Jock of the Century Jason Carver, when she clearly deserved so much better. He never thought he stood a chance though, and it really wasn’t his place to ask questions. Chrissy shifts on her feet, and the sound of sneakers on gravel brings Eddie back down to earth.

“E-Eddie?” She squeaks out, and he realizes he must be standing there like an absolute doofus, drooling over her like she’s a piece of cake.

“I- you- I’m sorry, I’m really not trying to be rude, but you snuck your way out of church, came here on a Sunday morning to… have sex… with me?” Eddie manages to get out, his cheeks turning pink.

“I’m not missing much, I don’t believe in any of that crap anyway,” Chrissy starts. “And I’m just- I’m so… tired of being ‘Chris the Priss’. I- I need you, Eddie.”

And who is Eddie to deny a woman what she needs? He opens the door wider and motions for her to come inside. She obliges, and stands facing Eddie in the living room of his trailer.

“Can I ask why you chose me, Cunningham? Why you want to sleep with me of all people? I mean, what about Carver? I know you guys broke up but, it’d probably be easy to get him back in bed” Eddie laughs a little, raising an eyebrow at the girl.

“Jason is the last person I want to sleep with, honestly,” Chrissy counters. “He- he’s never once made me cum, everything’s all about him,” she rolls her eyes. “I know you have a reputation, Eddie. The girls are always talking about you,” she’s looking up at him shyly through her lashes as she speaks.

Eddie ponders this, tilting his head at her. The hookups Eddie’s had are really just something to keep him occupied. He’s not a shitty guy, really, only ever getting in bed with girls who are fully on board with a ‘one night only’ kind of thing. But if Eddie’s truthful, a lot of the stories about him are rumors. Some are true, of course, he’s not gonna sugarcoat it. But some things get exaggerated as words go down the telephone line, like, he doesn’t have a ten-inch cock, and his body count is definitely under twenty. All he knows right now is that he’s gonna give Chrissy everything she wants and then some, because it’s her. No one else matters as much as her.

“A reputation, huh?” he questions, braving a step closer to Chrissy. Chrissy feels like she’s floating. He’s close enough to feel his breath on her skin.

“You’re sure you want this?” He asks.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. Please, Eddie. Tired of always being the good girl. Need to be bad for you,” Chrissy pleads, reaching out to twirl a lock of his hair around her fingers.

“Shit, sweetheart, you don’t have to say it twice,” and with that, Eddie is dragging the girl to his bedroom.

Chrissy barely lets him shut the door behind them before she’s on him, kissing him hard, desperate. Eddie’s hands make their way up to her hair, tugging it out of the yellow velvet scrunchie and running his hands through it. His tongue prods into her mouth, twirling around hers, kissing her like he’s starving. Chrissy groans softly into his mouth, she needs more. She’s tugging at the collar of his shirt, moving them both backwards before she falls back onto his bed. Her doe eyes are staring up at him, begging him to join her there.

“Christ, Chrissy, you’re gonna be the death of me,” Eddie breathes, pulling his shirt over his head before joining her on the mattress.

He helps her out of her dress, discarding it onto the floor hastily. Beneath it, she’s wearing a lacy light pink bra that cups her breasts in just the right way, and matching light pink underwear with a little white bow at the top. Eddie’s practically creaming his jeans at the sight, taking in all of her slender frame and trying to pin it to memory. It doesn’t take long before her mouth is on his again, kissing each other like it’s their last moment on earth. She’s palming Eddie through his pajama pants, reveling in the growing bulge she feels beneath her fingertips.

“Need- need these… to come off…” Chrissy pants through heated kisses, grabbing at the waistband of the soft flannel pants.

Eddie wastes no time in taking them off, and his boxers follow suit. Chrissy audibly gulps, he’s so much bigger than she expected. She’s heard the rumors about his size, yeah, but you never know how much of that is true. And while it might not be quite as massive as people say, it’s still a sight to behold. Her mind is racing, fleeting thoughts of every way she wants to have him spin in her head, making her dizzy.

“Eddie… please- wanna suck your cock,” she moans as he trails kisses down her neck.

Eddie’s heart is racing, he still doesn’t fully believe that he actually, really, has Chrissy Cunningham in his bed right now. Like, seriously. When do the camera crews come out and tell him this is all a big prank? A couple years of pining uselessly after this girl, writing songs about her (and feverishly denying that they’re about her to anyone that asks — fuck you, Gareth), reading into their flirty interactions a little too much. And now she’s here, practically naked, begging for his cock. Whatever good deed he did to deserve this, he’s thanking his past self for it.

He sprawls himself out on the bed for her, legs spread, cock resting lazily against his tummy. All Chrissy does is look at him and let out a pleased hum, and Eddie’s cock is twitching desperately as if on command. Like she’s some seductive snake charmer, controlling his body with her mind or some shit. Chrissy eases herself onto her knees on the carpeted floor, eyeing Eddie’s cock in front of her like it’s a meal and she hasn’t eaten in months. Eddie positions himself on the edge of the mattress, now mere inches away from her face. Chrissy’s grabbing for him, needy and eager, looking up at him with those big, ocean blue eyes of hers.

Her dainty hands grasp his cock, and a moan escapes him without warning. Before he can catch up with what’s happening, she’s wrapping her pretty pink lips around his swollen, leaking head. She teases him at first, only sucking on the tip, really making a show of it all. The shiny gloss on her lips starts to smudge off, coating his dick in a glittery shimmer, and it only makes him harder. She releases his head with a ‘pop’, gazing innocently up at him, and Eddie thinks she might be a real life angel.

“Mmmh, Eddie, you taste so good…” she’s giggling, one hand still wrapped around the base of his cock, squeezing lightly, batting her eyelashes as if she doesn’t realize the effect she has on him.

“Fuck, baby. Please keep going, need to feel more of that pretty mouth around me,” Eddie’s gently fisting her hair, urging her back onto his cock.

She obliges immediately, this time taking more of him into her mouth. Eddie gasps, the warm wetness of her tongue sending zaps of electricity to every nerve ending on his body. And, fuck, she sucks his cock so well. Bobbing her head back and forth expertly, fitting as much of him into her mouth as possible (which isn’t all that much, but what she can’t fit in her mouth she makes up for with her hand). Honestly, Eddie finds it ten times hotter that he’s so big she can’t fit all of him. The slick feeling of her mouth around his cock is driving Eddie crazy, and he watches her as saliva starts to drip past her lips, leaking down the rest of his shaft and onto her hands.

“So pretty when you get all messy for me, sweet girl. D’you like having your mouth full?” Eddie coos, cupping her cheek with one hand and rubbing his thumb across the soft skin.

Chrissy melts into his touch and nods eagerly, humming an agreement around him. She loves the feeling of him in her mouth, and every moan and noise of appraisal he gives her gets her wetter and wetter for him. Her tongue licks a stripe up the underside of his length and it sends him reeling, one hand gripping the sheets beneath him. She focuses her mouth’s attention on his balls, sucking them into her mouth while she pumps his cock with her hand. And, fuck, Eddie’s so glad he’s sitting down right now because his knees would’ve given out if he were standing.

“Ffffuck, Chrissy, feels so good,” Eddie moans, and he can feel himself reaching his release.

But he can’t cum yet, not before he gives her what she really wants. He taps her on the shoulder and coaxes her up onto the bed with him.

“C’mere, baby,” Eddie’s voice is smooth as honey, “-as much as I’d love to cum all over that pretty face, I need to fuck you dumb right now.”

Chrissy feels her heart rate increase as she wipes the spit from her mouth, nodding incessantly. She straddles his lap, grinding herself down onto him, riling him up further. Eddie groans softly, grabbing her hips and slipping his fingers underneath the waistband of her panties.

“Take these off for me, sweetheart, need to fill you up,” he murmurs, and his eyes are trained intently on her as she slips the pink cotton fabric off.

She positions herself perfectly above his cock once more, and Eddie guides her slowly down onto him. She gasps at the intrusion, the stretch to fit him. She’s never had anything close to this size inside of her, her fingers pale in comparison, and her insides burn in all the right ways.

“Mmmph- fuck, Eddie. S-so big, fuck,” she whines, screwing her eyes shut as he slowly pushes further and further in to her velvety walls.

“I know, baby, I know. But you can take all of me, can’t you? Gonna let me stuff you full of my cock?” he’s watching her every movement in awe as he speaks to her, going slowslowslow so as not to hurt her too much.

“Yes, need to take all of you. G’na take all of you,” Chrissy replies breathlessly, “Fill me up, Eddie, all the way. Need it so bad, please,” she begs, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

Eddie complies to her request, bottoming out in her tight, dripping cunt. He throws his head back against the pillow with a low groan, and he feels her clenching around him as she adjusts.

“You feel so good around my dick baby, so fucking tight,” Eddie’s praise has her whimpering on top of him, and she starts to rock her hips slowly.

“N-need more, Eddie, more,” she whines, trying desperately to get him to move.

“Yeah? Y’want me to fuck you silly, Chris?” Eddie taunts her, and her cheeks flush red.

“Yes, ohmygod, need you to fuck me so hard.”

And Eddie doesn’t need more convincing. He thrusts up into her, his pace relentless from the get-go. Chrissy’s whimpering and moaning and squealing on top of him, bouncing slightly to meet his thrusts, and Eddie loves the way his balls slap against her skin as their bodies meet. Filthy sounds leave Chrissy’s pouting lips as she rides him, the tip of his cock hitting just the right spot inside of her, heat pooling in her belly.

“What would your parents think if they could see you right now, hm? Split open on my cock, being such a slut f’me, when you should be in church,” Eddie tsks, his thrusts picking up speed “You’ll be repenting for your sins after this, sweetheart,” he’s all but growling at her, his voice low and thick, and it sends electricity right to her dripping core.

None of this should be as hot as it is, but Chrissy grows more and more turned on with every reminder of what she should be doing right now… and what she’s actually doing instead. And fuck, she’ll repent for her sins forever if it means she can keep having Eddie like this. If the Chrissy from a couple years ago could see her now, she’d be covering her ears, shielding her innocent eyes. But current Chrissy wants nothing more than to let go around Eddie’s fat cock, wants him to fill her up with all of his cum as she milks him dry.

“You gonna cum around my dick, baby? Gonna let me feel you cum?” Eddie’s encouraging her, and she feels the coil in her belly grow tighter and tighter as she chases her release.

“Yeah, Eddie, wanna cum for you. F-feel so good,” she keeps bouncing on him, moving herself as quickly as she can to get where she so desperately needs to be.

Eddie rubs his thumb over her clit, moving in quick circles, making her yelp at the sudden friction.

“Oh! Fuck, Eddie! Eddieeddieeddie,” his name spills from her mouth over and over like a prayer, like he’s her salvation, like she’s never needed anything quite as much as she needs him.

“I’m right here, sweet girl, c’mon. Let go for me,” Eddie’s words are enough to push her over the edge entirely, finally letting herself free fall into bliss.

Her walls flutter around him, clenching and releasing over and over and over as her body slumps down into him, her face buried in his neck. Chrissy’s never felt anything like this before, never got anywhere close with Jason, never hit quite the right spot when she’s played with herself. She feels sexy, she feels free, she feels raunchy and nasty and dirty as she soaks Eddie’s throbbing cock. She feels like a new version of herself.

Eddie continues to buck up into her, chasing his own high, grunting in concentration beneath her heaving body. She kisses his neck, licks and nips at his ear, whispering praises to him.

“Come on, handsome, need you to fill me up. Need to feel you cum in my pussy, Eddie, want it so bad,” she urges, snaking slender fingers up and down the sides of his body.

“Fuuuuuuck, y’sure you want it inside?” Eddie pants, so so close to release.

“Yes, god, yes. Make me yours Eddie, please,” and she doesn’t quite know why she said it like that, where it came from, make her his. But it’s all Eddie needed to finally snap.

Thick, gooey ropes of cum coat Chrissy’s insides, and she groans as she feels his cock twitching slightly against her sensitive walls. She rocks her hips gently back and forth a few times, getting every last drop out of him before giving up. When he’s finally spent, he pulls her body down onto his, pressing their chests together. He kisses the top of her head, big hands splayed across her back as her breathing finally starts to slow.

“How was that, sweetheart? Everything you needed?” Eddie smirks at her, pushing her bangs out of her eyes. “Better than singing hymns at church with a bunch of old farts?”

Chrissy snorts at this. “Yeah, Eddie. Everything and more. Definitely better than church,” she hums, satisfied, big blue eyes searching his brown ones. “Thank you. For that, you didn’t hav-”

“Cunningham, don’t you dare say I didn’t have to do that,” Eddie presses a finger to her lips, shushing her. “How on earth could I say no to a perfect girl like you?”

Chrissy’s cheeks flush at this, and she buries her face in his neck, suddenly embarrassed despite the fact that he just fucked her into oblivion.

“Chris?” Eddie asks, petting her hair gently.

“Hm?”

There’s a pause. Eddie swallows. Chrissy’s heart beats faster. Why is her heart beating faster?

“When you told me to make you mine… uh, what exactly did you mean by that?” he chews on his lip nervously, voice suddenly pitched higher.

Chrissy feels her mouth go dry. Shit, he caught that. “It- it just kind of slipped out, I’m sorry, I hope it didn’t make you uncomfortable,” she admits.

“No, no. God, Chrissy, no way. I just, uh, if you were serious…” the rest of the sentence catches in his throat, he’s unable to say what he wants when she’s looking at him the way she is. “I’d…. I would make you mine, if you wanted that,” he finally forces it out, eyes averting her gaze.

Chrissy beams, crooked teeth making her all the more endearing as she reaches up to squish his cheeks, turning his head so he’s looking at her.

“You mean you’d give up your Sex God lifestyle all for me?” she teases, making him blush.

“I’m willing to reel in my charm and be a ‘Sex God’ for you and you only,” he jokes back, and she rolls her eyes. “But you’re gonna have to start coming to Sunday school, right here in my bed, so I can teach you some lessons,” he says, tone extremely serious but his smirk gives him away.

Chrissy laughs, throwing her head back a little.

“I’d like that Eddie. I’d really like to be yours,” her voice is soft as powdered sugar, honey blonde hair falling in his face as she presses her lips to his.

“Consider it a sealed deal then, sweetheart. Chrissy Cunningham, cheer queen, good girl gone bad, Sex Goddess, is my girl,” Eddie boasts.

Chrissy swears there’s hearts in her eyes as she looks at him. She’s positive she can’t live without him, wondering how she ever did before today, clinging to him like a savior. Like he was the missing piece to her puzzle, and now she can finally be who she wants to be.

Chrissy doesn’t go to church anymore after that. Instead, she spends her Sundays wrapped in sensual bliss with none other than Eddie Munson.

#eddie munson #chrissy cunningham #eddie x chrissy #hellcheer #hellcheer smut #eddie x chrissy smut #hellcheer oneshot #stranger things 4 #eddie munson x chrissy cunningham

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fanficforlife · 2 years ago

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Chapter Two

~ The unusually warm end-of-April breeze caught your mousy brown hair, sending it fluttering around your face. You put the grocery list Gator gave you into your purse as you walked down the porch steps. When your eyes left your bag, they met Kayce's smiling eyes.

"Violet!" Tate grinned as you walked up to him. He was with Kayce, John, and Lloyd, an older, grey-haired cowboy who worked on the ranch that you had quickly become friends with, watching as they saddled up their horses.

"Violet." John greeted with a smile. "Since you have your bag, I'm guessing Gator's sending you grocery shopping."

"Yes, he is."

"You can use the truck parked by the house. The keys are in it." He pulled his wallet out and pulled out a credit card. "Remember the PIN?"

"Mhm."

"Can I come with you?" Tate asked as he hopped off the fence.

John chuckled. "I thought you wanted to come for a ride while we check fences."

"I'd rather go with Violet."

"She probably doesn't want to have to keep an eye on some kid when she can finally get some peace and quiet from the ranch," Kayce said with a crooked grin.

"I don't mind."

"We'll be out there most of the afternoon though."

"It's okay." You assured the handsome cowboy. "I finished everything on my list for today so I was thinking of doing some baking when I got back."

"Ooo, I'll help."

Kayce leaned against the fence across from you. The sudden closeness caused your heart rate to increase. "You don't have to say yes."

You swallowed as your hands started to sweat. "He can come."

"So, can I, dad? Please."

"As long as you behave and listen to Violet."

"Yay!" Tate's small hand grabbed yours. "Let's go before he changes his mind."

You laughed as he pulled you towards the black truck with the ranch logo on its doors. While you let Tate climb up and crawl across to the passenger seat, you glanced behind you. Kayce was watching you with a smile on his face. John noticed and nudged Lloyd, who looked from the boss's son to you, and grinned. You gave your head a quick shake and got behind the steering wheel. No, I can't. No...

*****

"So, what do you think?" Kayce asked.

"He's beautiful." You gushed while you pet his dark brown and khaki-colored horse. A small giggle escaped when it nuzzled its nose into your hand. "What's his name?"

He watched you with a smile on his face. "He uh, he doesn't have a name."

"He doesn't have a name?! I thought all cowboys named their horses."

"I guess I haven't found the right one yet." While you brushed the horse's velvety black nose, Kayce walked up beside you. "He likes you. Usually, he's not this calm." One hand reached for its halter while the other scratched its long face. His hand brushed against yours, you quickly dropped yours to your side.

"Maybe he's just tired."

"Maybe he just likes you." He smirked playfully and you couldn't help but grin.

"Well, I have to go pick up Tate. Have fun with your lazy horse." You teased but he quipped right back.

"Have fun with my crazy kid."

"Like father, like son."

He started laughing. "Alright, you win this one."

"Name your horse!" You called out as you walked away with a smile on your face. The smile started to fade as memories of your past started seeping in. They took hold and filled your head with questions, doubt. So, you pushed aside the feelings that started bubbling up whenever Kayce was within sight and got in the truck, and drove off the yard.

*****

You walked past the barn to the corral where Lloyd, Rip, and John were leaning against the fence. John had agreed to take in a horse that had been severely mistreated and the vet dropped her off an hour ago. "Hey."

"Hey, kiddo." Lloyd, the sweet cowboy who reminded you of your neighbors, greeted.

"How is she doing?"

The three men exchanged glances. "Well, seeing as the horse whisperer hasn't been able to get within ten feet of her, I'm gonna say not very good," Rip informed.

Your eyes went to Kayce, who was standing inside the corral. He had heard you talking and looked over, giving you a small smile before focusing back on the thin dapple gray horse. You watched him talk softly and slowly step closer but she would run to a different part of the fenced-in pen. When he tried again, she reared up.

"That's all she's been doing. She's the frailest looking horse I've seen but she won't go eat." John looked over at the bucket of oats sitting in the middle of the corral.

Your eyes went to the horse again as she let out a scared cry when Kayce tried to step closer and your heart broke for her. You stepped through the fencing and started making your way toward her.

"Violet," Lloyd called from the other side of the fence but you kept going.

Kayce turned to see what was going on. His eyes widened when he saw you in the middle of the pen. "Violet." He hurried over while keeping an eye on the horse to make sure she didn't charge. "Violet, it's not safe for you in here." He reached for you and tried to turn you around and lead you back to where you crawled through but your feet stayed firmly planted in place. "It's dangerous for you in here. Please. I don't want you to get hurt."

"She's not dangerous. She's terrified." You placed your hands on his arms and gently pushed them off of your waist. The horse stayed frozen in place as you took a few steps toward her. "The person who had her was a man wasn't it?"

"Yes," John answered.

You exchanged looks with John before taking another slow step forward. "Hi, pretty girl." Your voice was soft as you continued to move closer. "You're okay." She neighed and took a step back so you stopped walking and sunk onto the sandy dirt.

"What are you doing?" Kayce asked from a few feet behind you.

"We don't know what she went through with the guy who had her. You're expecting her to just get over it and trust you after an hour. Plus, you're a guy, so I'm guessing that's going to automatically be a point against you. I'm done everything inside so I can hang out with her. You probably have a bunch of other stuff to do anyway."

Kayce looked at three men standing on the other side of the fence, his dad nodded. "Okay, but I'm staying here." He looked back at John who nodded again.

You glanced over your shoulder to the worried cowboy in the pen with you. "I'm pretty sure if she wanted to trample me she would have done it by now." He didn't move so you sighed. "Could you at least go stand closer to the fence? I promise if she does decide to try and kill me I won't sue you."

He gave you an amused smirk before walking over to where his dad and the other two cowboys standing and grinning. "That girl sure is something, isn't she?" Rip chuckled.

"She sure is." Kayce agreed quietly as he watched you sitting there drawing designs in the dirt with a piece of straw and softly mumbling to the horse.

After almost an hour, she took a cautious step toward you. "Whenever you decide to come all the way over, I have a treat for you in my pocket." You looked across the ten feet that still separated you. "I've never seen a horse like you before, grey and spotted. Once you get settled and gain back some weight you'll be the prettiest one on the ranch. Well, you already are but you know what I mean. All of the other horses are going to be jealous. Scratch that, all the other horses in Montana are going to be jealous." She took another small step closer. You looked at the pail of oats a couple of feet behind you then back to her. "If I get a handful and throw them over there it will probably scare you. Plus, I doubt you'd want to get a mouthful of dirt when you eat them off the ground. You're not a bird. They'll be waiting for you when you're ready." You smiled when she moved closer, stopping five feet in front of you this time. "Hi, there." You slowly reached into your pocket and pulled out five sugar cubes. "I brought these for you." You held your hand out.

The mare looked at your hand then back to you for a few seconds before she came over and ate the sugar cubes. After she stuck her neck out so she could sniff your hair. "Hi, pretty girl." The hand that she ate from came up and rested on the side of her face when she smelled your leg. "Can I get up so I can properly pet you?" You asked as you ever so slowly stood up. She took a step back but when you held your hand out she came back. Now that she was close enough you could see scars scattered across her body and neck. Tears pricked your eyes. "He's not going to hurt you anymore." You continued to pet her face and neck while fighting back tears.

"I'm going to see if I can bring the pail over," Kayce said after a few minutes.

"It's alright." You soothed when she whinnied after Kayce picked up the pail and inched closer. "He's not going to hurt you. Remember what we talked about, you getting better? He's going to help with it."

When Kayce was within arms reach, he held the oats out to her. She warily sniffed at the pail and his hands and when he passed the test, she started to eat. "There you go, girl."

You shifted so she could eat easier, your hand sliding to the right side of her face. A lump rose in your throat when you found another scar between her mouth and eye.

"Violet?"

"Hmm?" You tore your eyes away from it and looked up.

"Are you okay?"

You looked past him and saw that John had come in and was a few feet away with a bucket of water. "Mhm, I'm fine."

Kayce stepped aside so his dad could take his place now that the oats were gone. "Hey there, girl." John's voice was soft and after cautiously smelling him, she took a drink. "I know you've been through a lot and it's hard to trust us but you're safe here. He's never going to hurt you again."

You looked at John who was standing on the other side of the horse. His eyes pierced yours and you knew he wasn't just talking to the battered mare. Kayce looked from his dad to you before your eyes quickly dropped. "I should go pick up Tate."

"I already sent Rip to get him so you can be with her." He set the pail down and pet her neck.

"What's her name?"

"She doesn't have one," Kayce informed as he pet the mare's neck next to your hand.

"I think you should name her," John said. "She likes you so I think she outta be yours." He added with a small smirk.

You looked up at him with wide eyes. "What?"

"You can't live on a ranch and not have a horse. You're the best damn housekeeper we've had so we sure as hell aren't going to get rid of you. Plus, I'm pretty sure Tate would kill us if we did."

"That he would," Kayce added chuckling.

"The only reason you'd leave is if you decide you want to."

You thought back to the conversation you had with him, Jamie, and Lee and to what he told the frightened mare. There's no paper trail, it's in the middle of nowhere...he could be right. I could be safe here... "Storm. She's weathered her storm and the color and patterns of her coat make her look like one."

"It's perfect." John nodded. "I'll leave you two to it."

Kayce studied you while you were lost in thought, mindlessly running your fingers over the scar on her face. His eyes went to the scar on the right side of your face that ran from just above your jaw up to your cheekbone. He brushed his fingers against yours as he pet her and it brought you back to the present. "What's going on in that pretty head?"

You glanced over at him and saw his gaze on the horse but you couldn't help but think the question was meant for you. Pink tinged your cheeks. "So, umm, now that she's not quite as scared anymore, what's next?"

"I'd like to try and get a halter on her." You nodded so he went to grab the one he brought out earlier that was hanging on the gate. When he came back, Storm squealed.

"Shh," you soothed as you gently stroked her neck, "it's okay."

Kayce reached out to pet her but she stepped back. "Easy girl." He stepped towards her again but this time instead of retreating she reared up. Kayce immediately wrapped his arms around you and pulled you out of the way. As he backed up, you stumbled over your feet and you both fell to the ground. He quickly covered you with his body, protecting you from Storm in case she decided to rear again. You both lay there trying to catch your breath from the sudden commotion. "Are you okay?" He looked down at you with worried eyes.

"I-I'm good." Nervousness filled you as the cowboy hovered over you. Storm wandered over and sniffed at his shoulder and you couldn't contain yourself, a giggle left your lips and his concern was replaced with a warm smile. You swallowed when his eyes flicked to your mouth. The sound of your pounding heart filled your ears.

"Dad! Violet!" Tate called out causing you both to quickly separate and sit up.

Kayce cleared his throat. "Hey, buddy."

Your cheeks were on fire as Kayce held out his hand to you after he stood up. You placed your hand in his and he helped you to your feet. A shy smile graced your lips before your hand left his and you looked at his son. "Hi."

"Rip picked me up from school. He doesn't talk very much but he's pretty nice. Is that horse sick? It's so skinny you can see its ribs. What's its name? Can I come pet it?"

"Did you thank him for picking you up?"

"Yes." Tate groaned while rolling his eyes.

You bit your lip to keep from laughing, Kayce gave you an amused grin before answering the rest of his questions. "She's not sick. The man who had her didn't take care of her and he hurt her. She's still pretty scared so you can't pet her yet."

"Is the man going to get her back?"

"No, he's never going to get her back. She's going to stay here."

"And, she's going to be Violet's horse. She named her Storm." Lee added as he came up behind Tate.

Kayce's son looked back at the horse. "She kind of looks like one."

"So, I picked the right one?"

"Yep." He grinned. "Are you done out here? Can you help me with my math homework?"

"Violet and your dad are still working with Storm so I can help you."

"It's probably a good idea your uncle helps you because I suck at math."

"Alright." Tate sighed.

Lee chuckled and placed his hands on Tate's shoulders. "Come on little man. There are a couple of chocolate chip muffins left that you and Violet made yesterday with our names on them." He gave you both a cheeky grin before guiding Tate towards the house.

You took a deep breath before looking back to Kayce. "Well umm, that didn't go quite as planned."

"No, it didn't." His brown eyes sparkled as his hand came up. You stayed stone still. He smiled down at you while he pulled a piece of straw out of your hair. "Ready to try this again?"

"Mhm." His perfect smile formed and he picked up the halter lying on the ground. You walked over to the malnourished horse, talking softly. "You have a name now and from what just happened, it suits you even more." She took a step towards you and your hands caressed her face. "Storm. If you're feeling feisty, Stormy."

Kayce came up beside you and she backed up. Your shoulders slumped. "Try petting her again, I have an idea. Stay in front of her."

"I'll make you a deal," your voice was quiet as she let you come over and pet her face, "if you let him put the halter on you, I'll get you some more treats." You felt someone standing behind you and you stiffened.

"Just keep doin' what you're doin'."

The images of Nick that invaded your head scattered when you heard Kayce's voice and you relaxed. "I could get you a carrot or an apple this time." You offered as Kayce reached around you and started slowly sliding the halter on her. Storm whinnied but stayed in place while you stroked her long face. "Those are the only things I know you can eat but I think you'll like them."

"Peppermints," Kayce said next to your ear as he buckled the halter. The butterflies in your stomach started flapping their wings. "Raisins are another good one." He scratched Storm's face before dropping his arms.

Your eyes watched him as he went to get a lead rope he had draped over the gate but quickly looked away and focused on the horse in front of you. It wasn't a good idea, no matter how you felt when you were near him.

After coming back and clipping the rope onto Storm's halter, he handed it to you. "Just take it slow. If she pulls back or rears up, drop the rope. I'll be right here."

You nodded. "Come on, Storm. When you're done with this, we will get you settled in your new stall." After walking until the rope was stretched out you stopped. Storm stood there looking at you. "It's okay, girl. We're just going to go for a little walk." You held your hand out and she walked up to you. "Now you just have to walk with me. It'll be a lot easier for me to tell you about your new home if you do." You took a couple of steps while continuing to scratch her neck, and she stayed by your side. After a few more feet, your hand left her but she continued walking next to you. A smile lit up your face and your eyes shot to Kayce. He was grinning right back at you.

*****

"Are you ready?" Kayce asked as he pet the palomino horse he saddled up and brought out to the corral.

"Umm," you looked up at the saddle and then at the cowboy, "I don't really need to know how to ride a horse. I know I live on a ranch but I'm not a cowboy. I clean and bake."

"You don't have to be scared."

"Oh, I'm sorry, but have you seen the size of him?!"

He chuckled. "Blue Jeans is the oldest horse here. He's been around since I was a kid."

"I've heard stories of you and him from Rip and Lloyd."

"Yeah, and now he's old and lazy. You're going to be fine."

You took a deep breath before putting your foot in the stirrup. As you went to pull yourself up, a fly buzzed around Blue Jeans' face before it bit him, startling the poor horse. He reared up slightly. It was enough for your hand to slip off the saddle horn and you fell backward.

"Letty!" Kayce reached out and caught you, pulling you tightly against him. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

"I-I'm okay." After catching your breath your turned to face him with a furrowed brow. "Did you just call me Letty?"

"I uh...yeah, I did. I'm sorry, it just slipped out."

"No, it's okay. No one calls me that. I...I like it."

He smiled down at you. "Well, Letty, are you ready to try again?"

"You're joking, right? You saw what just happened."

"It wasn't his fault. Really, he's harmless."

"I don't think today is the right day for me to learn. I don't..."

His eyes went to your trembling hands. "We can call it a day and try another time."

"You're probably busy anyway and I have to go pick up Tate soon. He said he wanted to roast marshmallows this weekend. We'll be home a bit later than usual so we can pick up what we need. Plus, I need to get a few things for Gator."

"Yeah, no worries." He fell into step with you and headed back towards the barn.

"You probably think I'm some dumb city girl who's scared of a horse."

"No, you're great with Storm. I have faith you'll get it."

"That makes one of us." You laughed as you stopped in front of the barn. "Thanks for not making fun of me," your attention went to the lazy horse and scratched his neck, "and thank you for not squishing me. See you later."

"Yes, you will." Kayce grinned as he watched you make your way to the house.

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fortheloveofwonderland · 1 year ago

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Darkness Declares Glory | Chapter 12 | S.R

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

A/N - this fic deals with some very dark themes such as drug use, self-harm and suicidal ideation. Please proceed with caution and Minors DNI. There is a reader insert but it is very Spencer-centric.

Chapter Summary - After a really good day, Spencer finds himself backsliding. Maggie suggests a new and unconventional coping mechanism but Spencer is sceptical.

Pairing - Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - dark angst | smut | eventual happy ending.

Warnings - Spencer backslides, self-harm, blood, swearing, handjob, non consensual activities in a dream, talk of masturbation, Tara’s flashback, past drug use, withdrawals, vomiting, masturbation (male).

WC - 5k

Chapter 12 - Entropy

What goes up must come down. It was sometimes terrifying how quickly his moods could change. He’d had the best afternoon with you in the library and the two of you had dinner together in the dining hall. And for the first time since Spencer arrived at PIW, he felt something akin to normal.

Group therapy always put Spencer on edge but tonight it was worse than ever when Cedric made him talk more than he was comfortable doing.

And then PT had been more draining than usual and Nick suggested going back to two crutches which Spencer adamantly refused. By the time he got back to his room, all Spencer wanted was to shoot up.

Or failing that, hurt himself.

There had to be something in this goddamn room he could use to inflict pain on himself. There had to be some small oversight on the facilities part. Since his attack on the nurse he wasn’t allowed to keep his toothbrush in his room which he guessed was understandable if not frustrating.

He found himself staring at the light emanating from the small lamp on the nightstand until his eyes hurt and he couldn’t see straight. If only it burnt hot enough to hurt him…

He broke out of his stare off with the bulb and smiled to himself as he had an ephiany.

Light bulbs are made of glass, Reid…

He fumbled switching it off and moved the lampshade out of the way. When he wrapped his hand around the bulb it burnt slightly, but not enough. He managed to unscrew it and he was grinning to himself.

See, you’re still smart. Brain still works.

He hopped up from the bed to the desk where he slumped in the chair. He lined the bulb with the corner of the desk before raising it and letting it come crashing back down onto the edge of the wood. As he’d hoped, the bulb shattered in his hand, sending splinters of glass into his palm.

He rolled up the left sleeve of his sweater where his burns and picked skin were now almost healed. He emptied the glass from his hand onto the desk and picked out the biggest shard. With a large smile he took the shard to the soft flesh on his wrist.

He cut himself once, twice, three times and watched in awe as the blood trickled from the wounds, down his arm and pooled on the carpet.

I’m so fucking smart. How did I ever doubt that?

Four cuts. Five. Six and his hand was coated in blood too. Seven and eight and he started to feel relief. He stumbled back to his bed, sleeve still rolled up and bleeding over his sheets as he laid down on his back.

They’re gonna commit you for sure. This place will be a walk in the park compared to a padded cell.

The pain swelled up his arm but it was euphoric. It felt good to take back some control over his fucked up life. He closed his eyes with a dopey smile still on his lips.

His last coherent thought before he passed out was, fuck you, I win.

***

He was back in the swimming pool only he wasn’t wading through the calming water he remembered. The pool water was replaced by a heavier, slightly sticky substance that lapped around his waist. He raised his hands out of the liquid and inspected them. As expected, they were coated in red.

He was swimming in a pool of blood.

“You really need to find a better outlet.” The voice startled him and he looked up to see you sitting cross legged at the edge of the pool. “This isn’t healthy.”

“That’s rich coming from you. I saw your scars.” He scoffed.

“I didn’t say I knew of any healthier options.” You smirked playfully.

He waded closer to you through the viscous liquid until he reached the edge you were sitting on. He lifted his arms which were covered in blood and leant on the side of the pool.

“What else am I supposed to do?”

You reached out for him and entwined your fingers in his messy locks.

“I wish I had an answer for you.” You bowed your head to meet his and rested your foreheads together.

Your breath fanned across his face moments before he pressed his lips against yours. He wrapped his bloodied arms around you, holding you close. He deepened the kiss, closing his eyes and giving over to you entirely.

Somehow you were now in the pool, body flush against his. His hands wandered your body and he quickly discovered you were naked. So was he.

He pressed you back against the side of the pool as his hand wandered between your legs. But he didn’t find what he expected.

He suddenly pulled back from the kiss and George was leant against the pool side smiling at him.

“Why’d you stop?” He smirked.

“Where…why…what?” Spencer blinked, turning and looking around only to find he and George were the only ones here.

“Come here, Doctor Reid. I’ll make it better.” George pulled him closer and kissed him again, wrapping his arms around Spencer’s neck.

As the kiss deepened once more Spencer started to feel stubble brushing against his jaw and he pulled back again only to be staring into a set of deep brown eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Luke laughed, running his finger over Spencer’s cheek. “You don’t want me?”

“I…I…” what the fuck is happening?

“I’ve wanted you for so long, Reid.” Luke moaned as he spoke, hand wandering down Spencer’s bloody torso now.

“Where’s Y/N?”

“Don’t worry about her. I’m here now.” Luke drew him closer and their lips met once more.

When he felt a hand wrap around his shaft, it wasn’t large and calloused like he expected and the lips now trailing down his neck weren’t rough like they had been moments before. The hand started pumping him and he guided the head up from his neck.

“I missed you, Spencie.” Cat panted as she continued to stroke him.

He tried to move back from her grip around his cock but there was something behind him blocking his way.

“Stop. Don’t touch me!” He hissed at her.

“Don’t pretend you don’t want me, Spencie. It’s getting real old, real fast.”

“He makes everything so difficult.” George’s voice came from behind him as his arms snaked around Spencer’s waist.

“Stop fighting it.” Cat laughed as she quickened her pace and her lips found his neck again.

George pressed himself against Spencer from behind, his hands wandering his torso.

“You don’t always have to fight, Spencer.” Your voice came from the edge of the pool again where you were sitting next to Luke as the two of you watched Cat and George have their way with him.

“I don’t want this.” He whined. “I want you.”

“You can’t have me.” You shrugged.

Spencer tried to fight against the two bodies he was sandwiched between while you and Luke continued to look on. The blood was up to his chest now, rising rapidly.

“Please Y/N! Make them stop!” He whimpered. “Luke, do something!”

“All you have to do is open your eyes.” George whispered in his ear. “Open your eyes and it’ll all be over.”

“He doesn’t want it to be over though. That’s what scares him the most.” Cat laughed against his neck.

“No! No, I don't want this! I don’t want it. Open your eyes, Spencer! Open your fucking eyes!” He yelled to himself.

Just before the blood pool rose above his chin, the bodies disappeared. He was alone again. Alone and drowning in a pool of his own blood.

***

“Have you thought about masturbation?”

Spencer’s eyes shot up from where they'd been staring at his shoes in a daze. He’d said barely a handful of words in the past half hour, instead choosing to stare at his battered converse.

He’d been found covered in his own blood this morning by the nurse handing out medication. He’d been taken to the hospital wing by Doctor Sanderson, given a few stitches and been bandaged up.

He’d been given the talking to once again, like he was a small child who couldn’t keep his hand out of the cookie jar and not a grown man who had slashed his arm with a broken light bulb.

Maggie had tried asking him why and was met with small shrugs and responses such as “why not?” He was feeling particularly difficult today.

He must have misheard what she’d just said. He just must have.

“I’m sorry?” Spencer frowned at her.

“I said, have you ever thought about masturbation?” She was smiling so innocently he still wasn’t sure he could have heard her correctly.

But he knew he had.

“Uh…” his frown deepened. “In uh…what sense?”

Did I miss a vital part of this conversation?

“In the sense of your recovery.”

Now she’d really lost him.

“You…I…I don’t understand.” He shook his head.

“Orgasms have a lot of health benefits as well as mental health benefits such as-“

“I know all the…benefits.” Spencer felt his cheeks burning. “Scientifically speaking of course.”

“Well then you understand that frequent masturbation can have-“

“Yes, yes I get it.” His blushed deepened, spreading up down his neck.

“The bottom line is, Spencer, we have to find something to alleviate some of your need for drugs and for hurting yourself. This can’t keep happening.” She nodded towards his bandaged arm even though it was sheathed in his sweater.

“And you are suggesting I…that I uh…”

“Masturbate. Frequently.”

Spencer didn’t think it was possible to be any redder. He retracted his neck, burying it down his sweater collar until it came up around his chin, like a tortoise retreating into its shell.

“Uh…I don’t feel comfortable talking about this.”

“Clearly.” Maggie smirked at him. “Spencer, it’s a natural part of life, everyone does it.”

“I am aware.” He wrapped his arms around himself.

“So there’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“I’m not embarrassed. I’m…I don’t know. I’d just really rather not talk about it.” But he knew they were going to talk about it.

“When was the last time you masturbated?” Maggie poised her pen above her notebook.

She wants to write this down?!

“I-I don’t remember.” He lied, retreating further into his sweater.

“Spencer…” She gave him a look of disbelief.

“Oh my god.” He sighed, covering his face with his hands. “A few days ago.”

“Good, that’s great!” Maggie practically cheered and jotted down some notes. “And how did you feel after?”

Spencer groaned and kept his eyes covered so he didn’t have to look at her.

“Good I guess? Slightly guilty I suppose because it seemed…I don’t know…wrong?”

“And why did it seem wrong? Does masturbation usually feel wrong?”

“Oh god please stop saying it.” He felt his face burning. “And no that’s not what I meant.”

“What do you mean then?”

Spencer sighed and rubbed his eyes before removing his hands from his face. He didn’t look at Maggie though, he stared back at his shoes.

“Because of where I am, what I’m here to do. It seemed inappropriate I guess.” He picked at his shoelace.

“I can assure you it isn’t. I think you could really benefit from it Spencer. I want you to promise me that if you start craving drugs or start thinking about hurting yourself, promise me you’ll-“

“Masturbate. Got it.” His cheeks burnt again. He just wanted this conversation to be over.

Thankfully Maggie dropped it after that and he was able to stem his embarrassment the rest of the session. Until her parting words of “you can tell me how it goes next time” caused it to grow tenfold and he limped back to his room with a deep blush on his cheeks.

The rest of the day all Spencer could think about was masturbation, which was less than ideal. Being here wasn’t exactly sexy circumstances. Did Maggie think men could just get it up whenever they wanted? Admittedly, Spencer didn’t usually have much of an issue with that apart from the time he’d been on Prozac anyway.

Spencer knew all he’d need to do is close his eyes and think of you and…

…yep that did the trick.

He leant forward, his elbows on his knees to try and cover himself as he was sitting in the courtyard waiting for his visitor. It really wasn’t the time to be trying out techniques to get it up. He closed his eyes and took deep breaths. At least he knew that it worked, he supposed.

As long as he didn’t think about you, the problem would resolve itself.

Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Deep breaths.

“Spencer!”

His eyes shot open and thankfully his deep breaths had worked and he was no longer pitching a tent in his pants as she made her way towards him.

“Tara.” He smiled, pushing himself up with the help of his cane.

Tara beamed at him and wrapped her arms around him the second she was in reach.

“It’s so good to see you.” She spoke into his ear.

Spencer wrapped his free arm around her.

“It’s good to see you too.” It was good to see her, it wasn’t a lie.

But he still needed to see Emily. Although he wasn’t in the least surprised that it wasn’t her who came to visit. The hug ended and Tara was still smiling at him, albeit a little sadly.

“Do you want to walk around? The gardens are really nice.” Spencer offered.

“Sure that sounds nice.” She nodded.

She let Spencer go first, leading the way towards the winding path that travelled the institute's gardens. It was a slow amble, what with Spencer’s injury and walking stick but it was a sunny day and she relished the feeling of the sun beating down on her face.

“So,” she gave him a sideways glance as they walked. “How are you?”

Spencer wanted to laugh because it was such a loaded question and one with so many possible answers. But lying to Tara Lewis was one of the hardest things. He knew she wouldn’t be placated with a vague lie like the others.

“I have good days and I have bad days.” He knew that wouldn’t be enough for Tara so he continued. “Ok so I have completely terrible days and I have mediocre days.”

“What are your completely terrible days like?” She asked and it felt a little like he was in therapy.

If anyone else had asked, Spencer would have avoided the question. But Tara was so easy to spill his guts to.

“Well my last completely terrible day was yesterday. And I smashed a lightbulb in my room and cut myself on the glass.” He sighed as he spoke.

Tara’s expression didn’t change in the slightest.

“And your mediocre days?”

“I don’t smash lightbulbs and hurt myself?” He gave her a wry smile.

“Fair enough.” She chuckled a little.

“You’re the only person I’ve been honest with about that.” Spencer mused out loud.

They rounded a corner and started through the rose garden. The smells coming from the flowers were oddly calming.

“That’s understandable. You’ve known JJ, Garcia, Rossi and Emily for a really long time. It’s easier to talk openly with people you don’t know as well.” Tara told him like he didn’t already know that.

“They baby me.” He said instead. “They still see me as some little kid. You don’t see me that way because you didn’t know me when I was fresh out of the academy and the baby of the team.”

“You’re still the baby of the team.” She teased.

“I suppose.” He pinched the bridge of his nose with his hand that wasn’t clenched around his cane. “Can I ask you something that might sound a little weird?”

“You can ask me anything.”

“I’m asking not as my friend. I’m asking in a professional capacity.”

Tara glanced at him again with a small frown. Spencer looked away from her, knowing he couldn’t look her in the eye and ask what he wanted to.

“Shoot.”

He exhaled noisily, in slight disbelief he was actually going to talk to her about this.

“What do you know about…unconventional forms of therapy?”

He felt Tara’s eyes on him.

“Such as?” She questioned.

Again he exhaled loudly.

“Masturbation as a form of recovery.” He mumbled, half hoping she wouldn’t hear him.

But of course she did.

“Oh.” She looked away from him, focusing on the rose bushes. “Uh well…I mean as well as the obvious of providing pleasure, it does benefit your health and mental well-being. Research and anecdotal reports suggest that sexual stimulation may help relieve built up stress, achieve better sleep and a better mood, it can help prevent anxiety and depression and can improve self esteem. But I’m sure you know all that.”

Spencer nodded, staring straight ahead. He didn’t speak so she continued.

“It releases dopamine which obviously helps put you in a better mood. Also oxytocin is released during orgasm which lowers cortisol levels. And endorphins which will help lower pain. Really the list goes on and on.”

“Forget I asked.” Spencer felt his cheeks staining red.

Amusement danced in Tara’s eyes as she saw the blush creeping across Spencer’s face and neck.

“I assume your therapist has suggested-“

“Yes.”

“And you’re uncomfortable doing-“

“Not usually.” He slowed his pace a little as his leg started to ache. “But in here…yes kind of.”

Tara clearly sensed his pain and guided him to a bench in the centre of the rose garden.

“You know all the facts and statistics on pretty much everything. So I’m sure that you know all the benefits of masturbation, Reid.”

His blush deepened and he looked down at his shoes.

“I really wish I hadn’t brought this up.”

“I’m honoured you feel you can talk to me about it. Even if you can’t look at me when you do.” Tara chuckled.

“I spent a long time sleeping around while I was high.” He confessed out loud. “And I never batted an eyelid. I am very aware that mastur…that it is just a natural part of life. I just feel weird talking about it.”

“Understood.” Tara smiled to herself. “The last time I saw you, you were with a woman.”

“I was?” He suddenly looked at her, wide eyed.

“Yeah, pretty young thing. I didn’t want to interrupt so I left you to it.”

“When was this?”

“A few months after you left the BAU I guess.”

“What did she look like?”

Tara pulled a face as she thought back.

“It was dark. I didn’t get a good look. And her face was kind of obscured by yours. She was up against a wall, you were a little preoccupied with your tongue down her throat.”

Spencer’s blush returned and subconsciously he rolled up his sleeve a little so he could toy with the woven bracelet.

“Goddamnit I wish I could remember.” He groaned.

When he looked back at Tara, she was staring at his bracelet with a slight frown.

“I’ve seen that before.” She spoke quietly, almost to herself.

Spencer looked from the bracelet to Tara and back again in quick succession.

“Where?”

Tara looked up and met his gaze and he couldn’t tell what she was thinking.

“It was dark but I’m sure that was it.”

“What? That was what?” Spencer begged to know.

“The arms wrapped around your neck…one of them had that bracelet on the wrist.”

Spencer looked back at the bracelet, the one you’d given him the other night. He ran his fingers over the threads.

“Are you sure?” He croaked.

“Pretty sure.” Tara nodded.

Spencer closed his eyes and kept his finger pressed against the bracelet hoping to jog something from his fractured memory.

He fled his apartment, the dilaudid coursing its way through his veins. Why had he spent so long fighting this? Why had he been so desperate to maintain his sobriety? After one hit, he was already hooked. He knew there was no way he would ever stop again.

He felt like he was on top of the whole world. It was undoubtedly the best Spencer felt since leaving prison. And he already knew it wouldn’t be the last time he got high. In fact he decided then and there he never wanted to be sober again.

If dilaudid made him feel this amazing, why would he ever want to give it up? He stumbled out onto the sidewalk, euphoria flooding his every nerve. Yes, he was definitely going to do this again.

His heart simultaneously raced and slowed. His lungs and chest felt like they were on fire. His brain was running rampant, bouncing around thoughts at a thousand miles a minute.

The world seemed brighter somehow even though it was still the middle of the night. He felt like he was walking among the clouds, floating in a sea of drugs. He was smiling to himself. Spencer didn’t know the last time he smiled. He wasn’t even sure he could smile anymore.

This was the sensation he’d been searching for since he left prison. No, this was the sensation he’d been searching for his entire life. He was so caught up in his exhilaration that he didn’t even see the other person walking his way and clearly they didn’t see him either as suddenly he found himself colliding with another body.

“Sorry! So sorry!” He laughed, helping steady the other person by their shoulders.

“I’m sorry.” They giggled. “Didn’t see you.”

The most mesmerising set of eyes stared back at Spencer and he thought she must be a goddamn angel because he’d never laid eyes on anyone so beautiful. She simply couldn’t be human.

The small part of his brain that was still functioning properly told him she was high too. And Spencer had an overwhelming urge to do unspeakable things to her.

Not normally one to be so bold, the dilaudid took over and before either of them spoke again he took hold of her shoulders and pushed her back against the nearest wall.

He didn’t give her a chance to speak before he crashed her lips into his. But judging by the way she kissed him back and the way her arms snaked around his neck, she didn’t mind.

He plunged his tongue frantically into her mouth. She tasted bitter. Coffee? No, not coffee…

…cocaine.

He pressed his body flush against hers and took hold of her delicate face in his hands. He was hard in no time at all and she must have known because she grinded against him furiously. A soft moan left her lips and he felt it vibrate against his own.

He had to have her. He had to have all of her.

He moved one hand from her face and down her body until he was cupping one of her breasts through her shirt. She moaned again, hips rolling against his.

She pulled him closer and explored his mouth with fervour. He was so caught up in her he forgot where they were, didn’t notice passers by stop and gawk at the display.

And he had no idea one of those onlookers was an old team member, slightly shocked by what she was seeing.

His hand moved from her breast, down her bare thigh and then up her skirt. He ran his fingers over her lace panties and he could feel her wetness seeping through the fabric.

She giggled against his lips and then suddenly broke the kiss. She smiled at him before grabbing him by the wrist and dragging him down the side of the building. He found himself in a dark alley, and now it was her turn to push him up against the wall.

She ran her fingers over his jaw, down his neck and chest and came to a stop at the bulge in his pants. He moaned even though there were two layers of fabric separating them. She giggled again and it was already Spencer’s new favourite sound.

She had a curious look in her eyes and he knew it was because of the drugs coursing through her system. He knew because he was sure he had the same look in his.

She toyed with the button of his slacks, making quick work of undoing it and sliding them down his hips along with his boxers just enough to free his erection. He hissed as the cool night air hit his sensitive skin but it was nothing compared to the noise he made when she wrapped her hand around his shaft.

He moaned, involuntarily bucking his hips. Her hand was so small and delicate around his cock. He glanced down to watch the way she worked him, hand moving fast and hard, up and down around him.

He barely noticed the purple and gold woven band adorned on her wrist as she strived to push him towards his brink.

His eyes opened with a start and Tara was observing him curiously.

“Did you remember something?” She sounded a little concerned.

“I’m not sure. Maybe.” He chewed on his lip. “I never know if they are real memories or if I fabricated them.”

“Reid, you’re sweating. A lot. And you're shaking.” She reached for his shoulder.

“That would be another bout of withdrawals. They come and go.” He sighed in defeat.

He was used to it by now but that didn’t mean they didn’t suck. But he was better at ignoring them by now.

“Let me help you back to your room.” Tara stood and helped Spencer to his feet.

He let her walk with him back through the gardens and into the main building and she walked close to him down the corridor to his room. She helped him lay down, by this point he was drenched in sweat.

“Do you want to get undressed or…?”

“No, I’m freezing.” His teeth chattered a little.

She draped the bed sheet over him and tucked him in like he was a small child.

“Get some rest.” She smiled softly at him.

“Thanks for coming, Tara. It was really good to see you.” He spoke but his eyes were already closing.

“Anytime, Spencer.” She whispered as she quietly backed out of the room.

Spencer’s whole body was shuddering and his skin was damp with perspiration, causing his clothes to stick to him. God he hated this. This was the worst feeling in the goddamn world.

What he wouldn’t give to make it all go away with the release of drugs. If he had more energy he might have considered taking Maggie’s advice. But right now all Spencer wanted to do was sleep.

And maybe if he was lucky, he might never wake up.

***

He spent most of the night he wasn’t asleep vomiting up every little bit of food he’d eaten the last few days. It was the worst the withdrawals had been in a while and it only made him want to use more.

All of this could be solved with one more hit of dilaudid or a tiny taste of cocaine. Thankfully by morning he felt better, not good but not as terrible as he had done.

He limped down to the bathrooms after his medication was distributed and stood under the flow of water staring at the purple and gold band.

And just from looking at it, the thoughts of a stranger's hand wearing that bracelet wrapped around his shaft, his cock was standing at attention within seconds.

He was alone in the cubicle, no one could see him. If he focused enough he could tune out the sounds of other patients showering around him.

It had to be you that had jerked him off in that alleyway. It had to be, didn’t it? In his mind he could see your beautiful face, hear your delightful giggle as you made him come with your hand. But Spencer knew his memory couldn’t be trusted these days.

Without consciously deciding to, his hand had wandered of its own accord and was already stroking himself, using the water from the shower as lubricant. He closed his eyes and pictured your face as you touched him, thinking of the way you moaned when his own hand worked its way inside your panties.

His toes curled on the tiled floor, imagining how you felt when his fingers dove inside of you.

“Make me come.” He heard your breathy voice in his ears. “Please make me come.”

He chewed his lip to stop his moan leaving his mouth as he picked up his pace.

“More! More! I need more!”

He envisioned the way your skin tasted when he’d practically ripped your shirt open with his free hand and taken your nipple in his mouth.

“Fuck! Fuck!”

His orgasm was already building, his chest and stomach tightening as he drew himself towards the edge.

“Gonna come. Oh fuck, I’m gonna come!”

He thought of the way you felt clenching around his fingers and visualised your face contorted in pleasure as you came. He was so close, he needed the release more than he realised.

Seconds before he let his orgasm consume him, there was a loud knock on the cubicle door.

“Doctor Reid, that’s long enough now.” A nurse's voice permeated his sordid thoughts.

He groaned loudly, immediately dropping his hand back to his side.

“I’ll be right out.” His voice shook a little as he spoke.

He hadn’t even had a chance to wash himself. He’d been too caught up in pleasuring himself.

“Now please, Doctor Reid.”

He rolled his eyes and shut off the shower, feeling frustrated and on edge from his close brush with his orgasm. He dried himself off and dressed quickly, his previously throbbing erection now a thing of memory.

He hobbled out the cubicle with his cane and over to the sink to brush his teeth. It was going to be a long day.

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