#but yeah it's been shoulder 1 shoulder 2 neck hip bone and now left knee. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

venusiangguk · 4 years ago

Text

gold rush pt. 3 | jjk (m)

>>pairing: jungkook x reader

>>genre: pwp, v little plot, smut, kinda fluffy, college au (kinda), established relationship

>>word count: 9.9k um?

>>warnings: pegging!!!, butt stuff!!!, sexy anal!!!, sub jk, soft dom oc, crying why do i always make everyone cry, fingering (m), strap on, dildos, vibrators, sex toys, sex shop adventures, explicit sex, like so explicit this bitch is basically 10k, mutual masturbation, coming untouched, kisses, aftercare in the form of snacks, titty squeezing, dirty talk, excessive use of pet names, yoongi exists

>>notes: i wasn’t gonna write this bc ur girl does not know the first thing about pegging, but jk sucking the strap came to me in a dream and i had to do it. it was highly requested so i hope u like it! i wrote and poorly edited this whole thing today so im sorry for any mistakes !!

>>summary: jk wants the strap, and jk gets what he wants !!

pt.1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

The sun is shining, and there’s just the perfect amount of breeze to cool Jeongguk as sweat runs down his temple. The soccer pitch just got cut, making the ball much easier to control, and therefore much easier to aim at Jimin’s ass. It’s cool-down time, so the team is in groups of three, idly kicking the ball between each other, for the last few minutes of practice. All in all, a great day to talk about getting pegged with his best friends.

Jeongguk glances around the field, making sure the other groups are far enough away from him and his friends before clearing his throat. “So… do you guys like… get pegged?”

When Taehyung passes the ball to Jimin, Jimin completely misses it due to the fact that he is looking at Jeongguk like he is the most pitiful human on the planet. Jeongguk adjusts his shin guard to avoid the scrutiny.

“Gguk… honey… are you dumb?”

Taehyung’s jogging back after retrieving the ball that ran astray. “No, Mini. He’s straight.” He kicks the ball to Jeongguk. “If by ‘pegged’ you mean fucked in the ass by a real dick, then yeah. We do.”

Jeongguk receives the ball with a ‘rainbow’ and juggles it from his thigh to his laces, balancing the ball for a second before kicking it to Jimin. He nods, contemplative. “Nice.”

“Okay ace.” He passes to Taehyung, before throwing Jeongguk a teasing look. “You thinking about taking it up the ass, Gukkie?”

“Perhaps I’m contemplating.” He sniffs nose in the air.

Taehyung laughs. “Got your button milked once and now you wanna take a phallic shaped object? Proud of you.” He places his hand over his heart, like the mere thought of Jeongguk getting railed makes his heart warm.

A whistle blows, and Jeongguk kicks the ball up to his arm, tucking it into the curve of his trim waist. “Why does everyone call it a button? And it hasn’t only been once.” He sounds exasperated and so so tired.

His friends jog to bump shoulders with him as they make their way to the locker rooms. “Hey, jokes aside, I think it’s cool you’re like comfortable enough, or whatever, with __ to explore the things you like.” Taehyung says.

Jeongguk rolls his eyes. “Okay Dad.”

“No seriously!” Jimin insists, holding the locker room door open for them. Fuck the rest of the team. “She seems good for you. Babys you like you need.” Jimin laughs.

Jeongguk’s shirt gets caught on his head as he squawks. “I don’t just like being babied, fuck you.”

“Okay so she also entertains your sadistic side. She’s the full package.”

Jeongguk looks down with a blush. He shrugs his shoulders lightly before bending over to get out of his gear. “She’s pretty cool I guess.”

Taehyung knees him while he’s still bent over making him stumble a bit. “Awe, Jeonggukkie is in love.”

“Shut up.” Jeongguk smacks him in the face with his smelly sock.

“When you gonna do it?” Jimin asks, buttoning his new pants.

Apparently they aren’t showering today. Jeongguk will just have to stop at his dorm before heading to yours to help you study. That reminds him that you have a test on Friday, but are free this weekend. He just so happens to be free as well. The team they were supposed to play had to forfeit because their coach got caught sleeping with one of the cheerleaders. Sucks, but good for Jeongguk and his little asshole.

“Maybe this weekend.” With their backpacks on, they start the trek back to the dorms. It’s nearing night now, the sun just starting to set in the sky. Jeongguk pulls out his phone to tell you he’s stopping by his place before heading to you. You reply quickly.

baby🥺💘😏🧠🙄👊🏻:

okie

wanna have sex instead of helping me study

me:

yeah but im not gonna

just think about how good the sex will be when u get an a

baby🥺💘😏🧠🙄👊🏻:

🙄

When Jeongguk pockets his phone, Taehyung speaks up.

“You think she’ll be down?”

Jeongguk doesn’t hesitate. “Yeah, probably.”

Ever since the first time you made him cum untouched, butt stuff has been a moderately regular occurrence for you both as a long-term, healthy, pro-ass eating couple. Honestly it was mostly him getting his butt played with, but he supposed it made sense. Like Jimin explained to his once naïve self, it was just biological- or something. Whatever. He wonders if three fingers will be enough to fit a fake dick in his ass. He asks his friends.

“Eh…” Jimin starts, looking up like he’s thinking. “Maybe, but you might wanna try to get to four, maybe five if you're using hers, since she’s tiny.”

Jeongguk’s mouth falls open and he pales. Taehyung notices and laughs.

“Don’t get scared. It’s just better to over-prep than under-prep. And like obviously you work up to it, she’s not just gonna shove her fist or her cock up your ass.”

Her cock. A little tingle settles in Jeongguk’s lower belly at the statement. He’s been thinking about this for a while, looking at porn in his free time. Seeing the way the guys moan on their girls’ strap always gets him hard. Seeing how hard their cocks get when the toy hits them just right. He throbs when he sees the guys cum just from the strap, no hands. Maybe he should fuck you when he gets to your dorm instead of helping you study. His cock is feeling a little plump.

“Alright well… Bye, thanks for being gay and answering my anal questions!”

As he’s pressing the button to his elevator, they lived on opposite sides of the athlete dorm and there were different elevators for each of the wings, Jimin chirps, “Don’t forget to empty your asshole really well, and don’t eat the day of! Also buy extra lube and put a spare blanket down!”

Jeongguk winces. Valuable information indeed, information he mentally pockets, but did he need to yell it in the dorm common room?

“Noted!” He yells back at the elevator dings and opens up. Jeongguk pretends like he doesn’t meet the curious, kind of confused gaze of one of his teammates. He must have walked in while Jimin was yelling and only caught the end of the conversation while waiting for the same elevator. Jeongguk gets in and immediately closes the doors. He can catch the next lift.

~~~

Jeongguk’s got his head in your lap and you’re running your fingers through his long, silky hair. He showered today, so waves of his aromatherapy lavender shampoo are wafting up to you. Sweet boy. He seems sidetracked, occasionally sighing and subtly twisting, but is still more or less purring on your thigh, feet tucked up onto the cushion of the couch. Netflix is on the small tv that was left by the last person who lived there, you’re mac book connected via HDMI. You’re not really paying attention. Mind kind of tired from all the studying you had done this week. Jeongguk fidgets a tiny bit again, wiggling like he’s trying to get comfortable. He huffs a sigh.

“Hey,” You say softly, getting his attention.

His body curves at the waist, causing his t-shirt to bunch up and show off the dip of his hip bone. He looks up at you with wide eyes. He seems surprisingly awake. Must have some busy little bees buzzing around his mind. He makes a little questioning noise.

“You okay? You’re kinda fussy.” You murmur.

He groans. “I- am just thinking.”

“About?” You drag the word out in a singsong-y manner.

The way Jeongguk’s face flushes is so pretty, you have to stop yourself from cooing.

He moves himself from your lap and sits facing you. He looks like he's thinking about what to say, or how to say what he’s thinking so hard about.

Eloquently he states, “I’m horny.”

You glance at his cock. Not quite hard, but a little happy and excited. You chuckle, leaning towards him, giving him a playfully sexy look. “Okay, let’s fuck baby.”

Jeongguk blushes even more, cheeks tinted red, while he leans away from you.

You pout. “What?”

Again he pauses, a small pout on his lips. He seems to be in a soft, needy, difficult mood. You’re probably going to have to pry what he wants to say out of his mouth.

With another uncalled for exasperated huff, Jeongguk rolls his eyes and moves closer to you before catching you by surprise and swinging a leg over your lap. He’s facing you while he straddles your thighs. His arms are looped around your neck, he’s playing with a little bit of your hair, twirling the long length around his fingers. You smile up at him, gently. Your palms squeeze at his narrow hips encouragingly.

“I want to try something new…” He says. He sounds nervous and looks at you the same.

“Mhmm.” You say, fighting a smile.

“Really bad. Like I want it really bad.” His hips roll, probably unconsciously from the way he closes his eyes to ground himself.

You peek at his lap, and his cock is bulging, the fabric of his sweatpants doing nothing to help hide it. You bring your hand to it, and massage him through his pants.

He whines and pushes against your palm before a hand comes down and grabs your wrist, stopping the movement. “Quit it, I’m trying to talk.” He’s so petulant and whiny.

You move your hand away and place it back on his hip, giggling a little. “Well spit it out, then.”

He scowls. You reach up and smooth the wrinkle in his brow before trailing it down and cupping his cheek. He softens immediately, melts like butter in your hands. His eyes close and he lets out a soft sigh, body relaxing a little.

He’s whispering, kinda giggling out of embarrassment, when he says, “I want you to fuck me.” He pauses, peeking at you through his lashes. “Like for real.”

Almost instantly a little spark ignites in your belly, and you feel your pussy get that telltale heartbeat. You didn’t want to push Jeongguk into anything, but you’ve been thinking about taking the ‘next step’ with your… ass-plorations for some time. But you figured he would get to the same point on his own, and would come to you when he was ready. Turns out you know him as well as you thought you did.

“Yeah?” You rub your free hand up his side.

He nods quickly, eagerly. You pinch his cheek lightly, and he retaliates by trying to bite at it. To avoid the attack it finds his way back to his waist.

“When did you want to? Tonight?”

He wiggles impossibly closer to you. Kisses you quick before nodding again. “Yeah. I um. I already like prepped… mostly. I prepped what I could by myself.” He pauses with a cute thinking face. “You will probably have to help me a little. But yeah. I got ready for you just in case.” He nods.

You hum, glancing at the old clock on the wall, another gift from the prior tenant. 11:52 pm.

“If we hurry, we can make it to a sex shop? They don’t usually close until 2 or 3 in the morning.” You suggest.

Jeongguk bites his lip, smiling excitedly. “Really? Can we?”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Yeah, duh.” You lean up and give him a speedy, but thorough kiss, smiling into it. “Been wanting to peg you for so long.”

His face scrunches endearingly. “Don’t call it that.”

He hops off your lap, and goes to grab the keys, wasting no time. He stands by the door expectantly. His cock is, extremely obviously, sticking out. Someone didn’t wear his briefs today.

“Can you like… kill that?” You’re laughing as you tug on some sweats of your own, having only been lounging in your panties and one of his shirts. Your usual at home attire.

He looks down, and has a smug grin on his face when he looks at you again. “It’ll go down in the car. Hurry up!”

~~~

A dildo looks so much bigger when one is looking at it knowing that it will be inside of them within the next few hours. And there are so many options and colors. Some vibrate, some have fake pubic hair on them. Some have balls that are squishy and feel eerily… accurate.

Jeongguk isn’t having second thoughts, no. But he is having thoughts. Very overwhelming thoughts.

You’re next to your boyfriend, glancing between him and the varying selection of fake cocks displayed in front of you both, trying to gauge his reaction. He looks a little pale, but tentatively excited. Curious at the very least.

“Which one do you want?” You ask.

“No idea.” He responds, eyes wide.

Like most store clerks, one shows up, almost like they have a built in ‘customer needs help and has no idea which dildo to get to peg her super hot boyfriend’ radar.

“You guys need help?” He is a small man, with a monotone voice. He looks like he would rather be anywhere else at 12:30am on a Saturday night.

“NO!” Jeongguk says quickly and loudly. Very loudly.

Both you and the store clerk flinch, looking at him shocked.

Jeongguk shifts on his feet. “No.” He says in a more socially acceptable tone. “No- I’m sorry. But we’re uh-” He grabs your arm and pulls you closer. “We’re good, thanks.”

The clerk looks between you and Jeongguk and the dildos. “Um… Alright.” He starts to walk away before he turns back around. “Well if you change your mind, I’m Yoongi and I’ll be at the counter. If your toy is electric I’ll test it in the back before you leave… We uh- provide batteries with your purchase if needed…” With one last glance, a very judgmental one in Jeongguk’s opinion, Yoongi takes his place at said counter. His eyes flicker to you guys every once in a while.

“Baby,” You grab Jeongguk’s face between your palms and make him look at you. You squeeze and his lips poke out making him look like a guppy. He blinks. “I know you’re nervous, but it’s going to be okay.”

He rolls his eyes, guppy face and all. “Well obviously. I just- We don’t need help.” He wiggles out of your grip, much like a… guppy.

You grin, trying not to laugh, and just be the supportive girlfriend you are. “Okay, did you decide which one you want?”

A side glance. “Not yet…”

You walk up and go to grab a pink sparkly one.

“Uh, not that one.”

You quirk an eyebrow and move your hand to a larger one.

“No.”

You play a little game of dildo hot or cold until you have a better idea of what Jeongguk wants. His preference seems to be skin tone, close to his own, with a more realistic feel. Normal balls though, not squishy. Also no faux hair. You thank him for that. If you actually had a penis it would surely be waxed. Bless Jeongguk for doing the same. As for size, he leaned more towards a very normal, moderate size. Maybe 5 or 6 inches at most, not too thick. Smaller than himself. One last option.

“Do you want it to vibrate?” You ask, holding one in your hand testing the numerous different settings.

He shakes his head, answering quick. “No.”

He pauses.

“Wait.” He thinks. “Maybe. Should we? You could use it too?”

Sweet, kind, considerate angel. Always thinking about you and your pleasure. Couples who share the strap last the longest.

You shrug, pointing out, “I could use one that doesn’t vibrate too.”

He looks offended and sounds snotty. “Uh, you don’t need to.”

“Whatever. Why don’t we get both?”

You had a point. He pretends to ponder it, before nodding, already persuaded. “Okay.”

“We need the harness now.”

You begin the harness hunt, walking through the store, coming across many a things, but for some reason you both keep missing them. They’re nowhere to be found.

“Maybe they’re sold out?” He tries.

“Doubt it. Let’s go ask.” You grab him by his pinky and try to drag him to the counter. He resists.

“Let’s not.”

“Koo.” You say giving him a look.

He whines, throwing his head back. Borderline throwing a fit. You hold your ground, smiling.

He’s easy to give in. Being a brat just on principle. “Fine but you’re talking.”

You stand on your tiptoes and kiss his cheek. “Of course, baby.” With his pinky in hand, you make your way to the counter.

The store clerk, Yoongi, if you remember correctly, is sitting behind the counter hunched over smiling at his phone. He doesn’t seem to notice you’re there.

You clear your throat gently, “Excuse me?”

Yoongi jumps, almost throwing his phone. “Fuck!” He exclaims. His fists come up ready to fight before he sees it’s you and Jeongguk. He then places his hand over his heart. “Shit, you scared me.” He chuckles, recovering quickly. “How can I help you?”

You stare at him for a moment longer before speaking up. “Um yeah, I was just wondering where your harnesses are?”

He leans on the counter, head in his hand looking kinda bored. “Hanresses? What kind? Hanging harness? Body harness?”

You glance at Jeongguk and he looks like he’s going to die.

“The um- strap on harnesses?” Your voice goes to a whisper when you say it, despite it just being you guys in the store.

Yoongi sits up, and looks at you, and then looks at Jeongguk. A look of understanding comes over his face along with an amused smile. He nods to himself, while getting up to help you. “Nice. Follow me.”

Jeongguk gapes at the ‘nice’ and looks at you in disbelief. You pat his butt telling him to get going.

With some help from Yoongi you pick out a harness that looks supportive and comfortable, the ring that holds the dildo, compatible with both the ones that you plan on getting. It’s a simple adjustable black one. Yoongi recommended wearing something under it if the straps dig into you and irritate. He seems bored, but he’s actually very good at his job, and very knowledgeable.

Finally you’re at the counter. You place all the items in Yoongi’s reach and he’s just about to tell you the total when Jeongguk perks up.

“Wait!” He says before scurrying off.

It’s quiet for a split second. Before the clerk speaks up.

“He’s cute.”

You smile, “Thanks, he’s mine.”

Yoongi laughs, small little fish teeth and gums on display. Must be a Pisces. You know Pisces teeth. “Does he have any cute friends?”

You nod. “Yeah, but they are dating.”

He shrugs. “Don’t care.”

“Uh… I can give you their Instagrams?”

He pulls out his phone, and follows them right there after a quick glance at their pages. Confidence is nice.

There’s a short lull in the conversation. And Jeongguk seems to be taking his sweet time getting something you guys must have forgotten. Or the poor things lost. It’s a big store. You speak up this time.

“Do you have like a manager I could leave a review for? You were really helpful, and seemed like you really knew what you were talking about.”

He shakes his head. “Nah, I own the place. You think I would be here on a Saturday night if it wasn’t obligatory? Thanks, though.”

“Oh.” You say. That was pretty impressive. The store was quite successful based on the reviews. You would make sure to let Jimin and Taehyung know Yoongi was a business man.

“Okay, I’m back.” Jeongguk announces. “Sorry I forgot where it was.”

He places 2 (two) large bottles of lube on the counter. You cough out a laugh.

“Baby, we have lube at home.”

“But do we have enough?”

“I think maybe one more would be more than enough.”

He ignores you, looking Yoongi in the eyes for the first time tonight. “Add both please.”

Yoongi nods, looking a little scared of Jeongguk’s seriousness, and does as he’s ordered.

After Jeongguk pays, and you both are making your way to the exit, Yoongi calls out, “Good luck, tell your friends to follow me back!”

“Uh- Okay?” Jeongguk yells back. When you’re in the parking lot, he asks, “What the heck was that about?”

You shake your head, laughing to yourself. “Don’t worry about it.”

~~~

As soon as you get back to your dorm, the atmosphere is thick, full of tension and nervous anticipation. Jeongguk’s fidgety, eager to get started. You’re not far off, but contain yourself a little more. Need to keep control of the situation in case Jeongguk gets deep into his mood.

You guys are in the bathroom now, each one washing a toy before you use it. You make sure to unwrap the harness and the lube as well, both at Jeongguk’s insistent request, ensuring you don’t have to stop and deal with it later.

“Let’s just get undressed in here, it’s where my hamper is.” You say already tugging your shirt over your head, tits bouncing freely. Jeongguk went without briefs today, and you went without a bra.

Jeongguk quietly follows suit, and you don’t miss the way his hands are trembling a little in anticipation. When you’re both naked he kisses you quickly, and jiggles your boobs a little just because they are there and because he can, before saying, “Okay, lets go.” He’s out the bathroom before you can even respond. You laugh to yourself and gather the stuff he forgot in his excitement.

When you walk out with your hands full, you see Jeongguk spreading out a blanket over your comforter.

“Whatcha doin?” You ask curiously, placing the items on the nightstand.

“Gets messy. Wanna save your bedding.” He states.

You squawk, grabbing the blanket he set up on your bed. “Not my baby blanket you monster.”

He laughs, abs tensing. You notice he’s already hanging a little heavy between his thighs. “Sorry. Was the first one I saw.” He walks over to the couch and replaces the blanket that’s hanging over the back with your baby blanket and resets up. “Better?” he asks, extended his arm towards your bed to show off his work.

You nod, and take the few steps needed to close the space between you both. Your hand runs down his belly, and you feel his muscles jump, and you see little goosebumps sprout all over. His hands come up to cup your tits. You kiss softly where his heart is. You look up at him.

“I love you.” You smile.

He blushes. “Love you.” He whispers, before he leans down and slots your lips together.

It’s eager from the start. Your bodies press together, as your hands roam. When he takes a breath and surges back in, your teeth click together is his haste, before his tongue slips into your mouth. He groans into you, his hand going down to cup your ass, squeezing and pulling you impossibly closer.

You feel his cock against your belly, almost fully hard already. You reach down to wrap a hand around him, wanting to help him get there before you get started. He hisses, thrusting forward instinctively before pulling away. He looks like he hates that he does.

“No- I,” He’s already short of breath, chest rising and falling a little bit faster than normal. “I wanna watch you cum. With the toy.” He reaches around you, grabbing the vibrating dildo. “Please?” He asks. His eyes are fervent.

You take the toy in your hand, and kiss him again softly. “Yeah, baby. Whatever you. It’s all about you tonight.”

He shakes his head. “Always about you too.”

Your heart beats, happy in your chest. You thought about it earlier in the night, but Jeongguk really was the best lover. He always, always made sure you were taken care of, before, during, and after sex. He was so vocal and communicative, genuinely wanting you to know it was always about both of you, even if one was receiving more attention. He was caring like that in and out of the bedroom. You were so lucky to be his.

“You’re too good to me,” You laugh, climbing onto the bed. You settle back against your pillows, propping some behind you so you can see him, and watch him while you get off. He takes his place in front of you, looking at you expectantly.

He’s impatient, placing his hands on your knees, spreading you open so he can see your cunt. You let him get you into position before saying, “Keep your hands to yourself now, okay?”

He nods, eyes never leaving your pussy. He licks his lips. “Okay.” It’s said in a distracted kind of far away tone.

You hum as you bring the toy to your mouth, getting it wet. You wouldn’t need any lube, you would be dripping in no time. You don’t waste any time putting your free hand down between your legs and spreading your pussy lips, so your clit and the pretty pink center of your cunt are displayed for Jeongguk. You glance at him through your lashes, when you hear a small gasp fall from his lips. He’s already got a hand around himself. Just the tips of his fingers stroking his length, at a leisurely pace.

“She’s so pretty… You’re so pretty.” His eye flick to your face before zeroing in on your center again.

“Tell me how to do it baby. Tell me what you want to see.” You say, voice salacious and soft. You circle your finger slowly around your nub, dipping inside just a bit to spread your slick around.

When he swallows, it’s audible, his Adam's apple jumping. “I want you to turn it on low, and put it on your clit. I want you to feel good.”

You smile, and drag the tip of it down your body to just above your clit, turning it on the lowest setting before making contact with your sensitive nub. Your legs jolt, almost closing when you feel the vibrations. Even the lowest setting was strong. Your head falls back, and your legs spread more for him once you get used to the strength of the toy. “Fuck…” You breathe.

“Does it feel good?” He asks, greedy for your pleasure.

You nod, eyes still closed, focusing. You move the vibrator in small circles over your clit. You can hear Jeongguk’s breaths speed up.

“Turn it up.” His voice gives away that he’s speeded up his hand on his cock too.

You do as he says, looking at him as you do. He’s sin personified. He’s on his knees, sitting back on his feet, so his thighs are flexed and bulging. His abs tense when his palm twists under the crown of his cock. His eyes almost look black, pupils blown so wide, lust taking over his face. He’s got his plump bottom lip drawn between his teeth. He looks up from your pussy and catches you staring. He smiles shyly.

You keep your eyes on him as you bring the toy back down to your core. A short high pitched moan falls from your lips, as your brows knit together, before your eyes roll back. He groans, your expression enough to make his cock start to leak.

“Feels so good, Jeongguk.” You moan. The vibrator is right where it feels best, pulsing against your clit, causing pleasure to bleed into your veins.

“Yeah, baby?” He asks, he’s breathless, sounds like he’s in love. With you, your cunt. “Tell me.”

“‘S just right Koo, could make me cum just like this…”

He curses, and you open your eyes just in time to see him grip the base of his cock, keeping himself in check. “Not yet, baby. Little longer, please.” Still so polite and good for you, even when he’s the one telling you what to do.

He has you keep the vibe there, for a while longer, right in the spot that’s gonna make you lose it. He watches as a tiny clear drop leaks from you pink little pussy. It looks like it’s heavy and about to drip down to the blanket under you. He doesn’t notice your legs shaking until you’re gasping, “Koo, I’m almost- I’m gonna-”

“No!” He says quickly, his hand reaches out to pull the vibrator from your cunt just before you get your high. Your pussy aches and throbs, wanting to cum so bad.

Your chest is heaving when you ask, “Are… are you edging me?”

He shakes his head, even though your eyes are closed, trying to catch your breath. “No, no! I just. I got distracted.” He looks at that small drop of slick again. Fuck, he wants to lick it up and drink you down. “You’re leaking.” He states.

You laugh, breathing getting back to normal. “Yeah?” You reach your hand down to collect the distracting little droplet and bring it in front of you. You press the sticky finger to your thumb and then pull them apart to see the clear strings stay connected even as you pull. You hum, before offering your hand to Jeongguk. He sucks in a breath.

“Want some?”

He’s quick as he crawls between you legs, cock fully hard now. He watches you as he sucks your fingers into his mouth, tongue swirling around getting every last bit, before he sucks off with a pop!

He crawls farther up your body to kiss you deep, wanting you to get a taste of yourself too. He pulls back just a bit, and whispers against your lips, “I want you to fuck yourself with it, okay? Just for a little bit, then you can cum?” He’s phrasing it as a question, knowing he really doesn't have the final say, not tonight. But his voice is shaking from how turned on he is, how could you ever say no?

“Sit back.” Is all you respond. He does as he’s told.

You buzz the toy over your clit again, just because you can. Wanting to see how long Jeongguk can be good before begging. Turns out it’s not long at all.

“Put it in…” He moans. You look at him and his mouth is parted, and his eyes heavy as he watches you. His hand is moving fast over his cock, sticking straight up to his tummy. “Please.”

You drag the toy down to your slit, and tease it there before just barely pushing it in just a fraction of the length. Jeongguk whines, high and desperate. Apparently you’re moving to slow for him.

“More,” He begs.

You sigh, “You’re so needy tonight, baby.” He nods, agreeable.

When the toy sinks inside of you all the way to the hilt, you and Jeongguk both moan a quiet, “Fuck.” simultaneously. You’re coherent enough to laugh a little at the jinx, but he seems to barely notice, too focused on watching the toy sink into you, and then come back out to vibrate your clit again. You keep up this teasing pattern, again waiting to be told what to do by him, waiting to see how long he makes it this time.

“Harder, do it harder,” He’s panting. Moaning every word that leaves his lips.

You do as he says, and finally push the toy in at a pace that gets you climbing to being close again. You won’t be able to come like this though, and he knows that. Knows that you can only cum from penetration with him. He leans over and grabs the other toy from the end table, spitting on it and spreading it around until it's covered well.

“Use them both, want you to cum for me.”

With two toys in your hands, one in your cunt, filling you up, and one on your clit, making your legs shake, you do your best to make yourself cum. But it’s not enough. A soft whine falls from your lips, you’re so close, but you need more. More than you can give yourself.

“Faster baby, faster. You’re so close.” He whispers. He got both hands working now too, one stroking and one down tugging on his balls.

You whimper, “I can’t my arm hurts. It’s tired.”

Immediately he stops pleasing himself and gets right to pleasing you. Your pleasure taking priority. “Shh, don’t worry, I’ll help you baby.”

Jeongguk sits between your legs, and takes over the toy fucking into you, and turns up the one on your clit. With him pushing the toy in at a pace that you couldn’t do yourself, and the other toy vibing your clit incessantly, it takes barely any time at all for you to cum. You were so close already, just needed him to push you over.

Your legs are shaking and your toes are curling, when you cry out, “Baby, I’m gonna cum.”

“Do it, baby. Wanna watch.” He’s quiet, paying close attention to your body and the reactions he’s helping pull from it. He’s part of the reason why your face looks so pornographic as you finish. He’s part of the reason why your back is arching off of the bed. He’s part of the reason why your toes are curling, and why your legs are shaking, and why your pussy is contracting over the toy he’s still thrusting inside of you, working you through every last second of your orgasm. He reads your body cues, and slows down and pulls it out when you start to come down. You look blissed out, and you bring a hand to your hair and fluff it a little before laughing.

“That was good.” You sigh smiling, and when you look at him an image forms in your head, and you have every intention of making him carry it out.

Right before your eyes, Jeongguk wraps his lips around the toy that is going to be inside of him in just a short while, sucking off your slick. He laps his tongue around it trying to get it all. He’s obscene.

“Gimme,” You say sitting up with an extended hand.

He pouts at being interrupted, but does as he’s told. He takes your spot on the bed, and you head to the bathroom, stopping by your dresser on the way.

When you get to the bathroom, you close the door and get to cleaning the toys once again. After, you get to the stuff you grabbed from the wardrobe. A lacy pair of black panties, and sheer black thigh highs with matching lace adorning the tops. You slip into them, and then move on to the strap on. You hold it in front of you and try to make sense of which part goes where, and which holes your legs go into. It takes a second, but you get into it, adjusting it so it's nice and snug. Your outfit probably won’t help much with protecting your thighs, but at least the little part above your pussy will be safe. You look at yourself in the mirror. Not too weird or scary yet. You glance at the dildo on the counter.

It’s not too big so hopefully it’s not too… jarring when you see yourself with it. You get to work, slipping the suction base of the non-vibrating toy into the ring that’s meant to hold it in place. You look at it sticking out from your crotch and take a deep breath before turning to the mirror.

You gasp, before cackling quietly. You knew it was going to be weird. Like you knew. But actually seeing yourself with the whole get up is funny. Right now at least. You know it’s going to be sexy, once you get used to it and into the moment and inside of Jeongguk. You wonder how he’s going to react. Only one way to find out.

While you're walking to your bedroom from the bathroom, the dildo bobs, and you're giggling distractedly until you lift your eyes to let your boyfriend know you're ready. Again you’re met with a scene so indecent it belongs in a porno.

Jeongguk’s eyes are closed and soft moans are falling from his lips as he strokes his cock. He’s got three fingers in his ass, opening himself up for you, for your cock. Such a good good boy. He was so patient and productive while you got ready for him.

“You’re so good baby,” You murmur softly.

Jeongguk blinks his eyes open slowly, and rolls his head to the side to look at you. He doesn’t even falter in his movements at all, hand still moving, fingers still thrusting. He smiles a little when he sees you, but his eyes are hazy and he sounds lust drunk when he simply says, “You look sexy.”

You blush and a fond smile graces your lips, any embarrassment or self consciousness you were feeling prior to seeing him spread out for you on your bed, quickly vanishing.

You settle on the bed between his legs and watch for a moment as his hole takes his long fingers in. “Want me to help?” You ask quietly.

“Mhmm,” He nods, eyes closed still, tongue peeking out from between his lips. He doesn’t take his fingers out, though.

You grab the lube next to him, and flip it open. “You gonna get out so I can get in?”

He shakes his head. “Nuh uh. Put one in with mine.”

Something about that makes your body tingle. Inside of him with him. Opening him up. You can’t explain it, because you don’t really even get it yourself, but it makes you buzz and feel almost high.

You slick up your middle finger, and drizzle some more on his for good measure. He jumps slightly, and then giggles softly.

“Cold.” He says.

“Sorry,” You say distractedly. Your finger is lined up with his now.

“I’ve never done 4 before so you… have to go slow…” He pauses as he speaks, letting himself moan freely when his fingers graze over that secret spot that he’s grown to love so much.

“Tell me to stop if you need to.”

He doesn’t reply, just stops his fingers so you can wiggle yours in next to his. At the first push against his hole, there’s resistance. Very much expected. He’s quiet, teeth gritted, but he never says stop, knowing his body wants it, and knowing it will accommodate what he wants. After the second knuckle, your finger sinks in, almost gets sucked in, by his hole.

He lets out a shaky breath.

“You okay, baby?” You check in.

“Yeah just… full.” He moans when you wiggle your finger experimentally. “”S good. Move it some more.”

You do, and his start to move with yours. You can feel his fingers curl inside of himself to reach his prostate, and it’s pleasant in an out of body way, knowing when his face is going to contort in pleasure, and when he’s going to cry out, when you never really knew before. You’ve milked him before, of course, but feeling him do it to himself from the inside? It’s kind of thrilling.

“Pull, stretch me out.” He moans, voice impatient and needy.

He gets kinda slutty when something’s up his ass.

He swears when you do, his finger rubbing insistent circles on his prostate to distract himself from the minor sting of the stretch. His moans, start to raise in pitch and his hand that’s on his cock, still jerking it, starts to speed up. You can tell he’s close. He clenches against your finger that’s still stretching him open.

“Fuck,” He says, on a breathless giggle, “Take them out. Or I’m gonna cum.” He’s still stroking his cock, like he doesn’t wanna stop.

“You c-”

“No. Out.” He demands, hand finally pulling away from his cock, and his fingers inside stop. You gently ease out of him.

When Jeongguk’s fingers slip out, you gasp. His little pink hole is clenching on nothing, still open just the tiniest bit, thoroughly stretched.

“You know how you always say my pussy is pretty?” You ask, fingers tracing around the puffy stretched rim.

He makes an affirmative noise, watching you with hooded, lazy eyes as you touch him. He even spreads farther so you can touch and see better. You marvel at the difference between the embarrassed boy you made cum untouched a couple months ago, and the one in front of you now, so comfortable and relaxed. It makes you happy.

“Well, your butthole is pretty.”

He snorts, and kicks you lightly. He smiles at you, soft and sluggish. “Just fuck me.”

He sounds so wistful and just ready.

But you’re not.

You grip the base of your cock, and stand up. You walk to the head of the bed, next to his confused face. You stay there waiting for him to get it. He doesn’t.

“You want me inside of you right baby?” You ask, voice gentle.

He nods, eyes no longer hazy, but wide and confused. He looks between you and your cock.

“I think that means you have to get me ready. Get me nice and wet, right?”

You can physically see when Jeongguk gets it. When it clicks for him. His eyes darken, and he licks his lips. “Yeah… You’re right. I should… help you.” He whispers, sitting up. You back up enough for him to have a place on the floor.

Jeongguk on his knees for you isn’t a new sight. He’s eaten your pussy like this before, you either grinding onto his face, or him holding you still and making quick work of your clit. But Jeongguk on his knees for you to suck your cock? New, and lewd.

He looks nervous, kind of hesitant. A hand is raised midway, like he isn't sure if he should grab it.

“Lick it, baby.” You encourage.

He glances at you, doe eyes seeking approval as he leans forward and gives a kitten lick to the tip. You nod, letting him know he’s doing well. His hand comes up and replaces yours at the base and he opens his mouth enough to wrap his lips around the head, and he swirls his tongue.

He pops off, and strokes up to where his mouth was and spreads the little bit of spit. The silicone is still dry though, so he spits on it more, straight from his mouth. You suck in a breath.

“Fuck, you’re so hot baby.” You whisper a breathy moan as his hands move up and down your cock. He adds his mouth again.

He hums a little, before backing up and looking at you again. “Does that feel good?” He asks.

You laugh lightly, in pure awe of him. He’s so sexy, and so sweet, and so incredibly lust inducing. Your pussy aches behind your cock. “Feels so good, baby. You’re doing so good.”

He hums, still stroking you off. “I really want it inside me…” He says, hinting that he’s ready.

You have mercy on him, having fulfilled your newfound personal fantasy enough for the night. Maybe you could revisit it another time. But now it was time to fulfill a mutual fantasy.

“On the bed, hands and knees.” You tell him.

Excitedly he hops back onto the bed, and gets into position, his hole on display for you. His back is arched and you can see the plush swell where his lower back meets the top of his cheeks. You settle behind him, and his shoulder to waist to hip ratio, is sinful. He’s always had the daintiest waist, strong, but still so small. But at this angle, it’s cinched and the way his legs are spread makes his hips look wider, accentuating the dip at his middle. You rub your hands over the narrow curve, all the way to his cheeks, grabbing handfuls of the muscle. There’s a slight give when you squeeze your hands.

Jeongguk’s head drops, and he lets out a shuddering sigh, he’s got the chills again, and he’s got a constant thrum coursing through his body. “Please…” He moans, so quietly, so desperately.

You kiss the small of his back before grabbing the lube left abandoned on the bed. You lather 2 of your fingers, and push them into Jeongguk’s hole making sure he’s nice and slick. There’s no resistance at all, hole loose and ready enough for them to slip right in. Then you lather your cock, probably with too much lube, honestly, but you wanted to be so sure that he didn’t feel any more pain than absolutely necessary. You knew the first initial push in would be the worst, but you were hopeful you both had stretched him out enough to at least minimize or diminish it altogether.

You grab the base of your cock and line it up with his hole. It flutters, when you barely press against his rim.

“Ready?” You ask, giving a heads up.

“Yeah.” He says softly.

He’s tight. His hole sinks in with the tip of your cock before the rim gives and swallows around it. Jeongguk tenses and his hands grip the blanket under you.

“Shit…” He groans. He sounds like he’s clenching his teeth.

You rub soothingly at his lower back, fingers dipping when you run them over the dimples at the bottom of his spine. “You’re doing so good baby.” You tell him.

“Doesn’t really hurt, I’m just stretching.” He says through his teeth. “I can take it though, keep going.”

You grab the lube and drizzle more directly onto his hole. He doesn’t mention the cold this time, too focused on taking your cock. You push against him, and feel yourself sink deeper into him. It’s like after the tip was in, his body knew what to do to take the rest. The slide wasn’t a swift, fast stroke, but it was a smooth and slow glide. When you bottom out Jeongguk’s arms give out from under him, his face going to the bed.

“Holy fuck.” He keens, resting his head on his arms. Your hands are constantly on him, soothing him in any way that you can.

“Tell me when.” You whisper patiently. He nods. With his head turned to the side and pillowed on his arms, you can see his eyes are squeezed shut. The inhales and exhales you can see in the expanding of his ribcage, tell you that he’s taking deep breaths working through the stretch, getting himself used to it.

“Okay… Ready.” He murmurs.

You pull out just a bit before pushing back in. Jeongguk moans softly. Spreads his legs even wider, arches his back even deeper. He’s pushing his ass out for you, his body begging you to make it feel good.

You keep a slow pace, kind of nervous to speed up.

“You can go faster, feels nice.” He says. He’s been puffing out little gasps of air every time you bottom out with your slow pace.

With his consent, you grab at his hips and pull out to just the tip, before swiftly pushing back in, fast and hard. His cheeks bounce on the impact. You grab one and jiggle it a little, thrusting into him again, drinking down the whines that slip out.

“You’ve got such a bubble butt, I never noticed before. But it like… bounces.” You say, wonder in your tone.

“Thanks, can you like tell me about it later?” He asks, voice strained.

Point taken.

Your thrust game is kind of shitty, in reality. It’s hard to find a rhythm, your hips not used to moving this way. But Jeongguk is moaning freely underneath you, just happy to have something inside of him after thinking about it all week. So you keep going, and eventually, the pattern comes to you, still kind of messy, but now you’ve got him cursing beneath you. You’ve got one hand on his ass, the other braced on his arched spine.

A particularly good thrust has Jeongguk burying his face into the bed, teeth biting at the bedding. “Yeah fuck-” He groans with his mouth full of blanket. With his hands now free, he brings them behind him and settles them on his cheeks and spreads.

You watch clearly as your cock sinks into Jeongguk’s ass. You’re out of breath, but you make sure to tell him how good he looks, how pretty his hole looks swallowing your cock, like it was made to take it.

“Wanna ride you.” He says. His voice is pitifully wrecked and he sounds so thoroughly fucked, you feel a little proud. Still, you’re grateful for a break. You don’t know how he fucks you like he does. ‘Topping’ is tiring. You pull out of him, and realize that when you were in awe of his hole at taking your fingers, it was premature. Jeongguk’s hole after he takes your cock is vulgar. It’s properly gaped now. Not huge, but around a fingers width.

He rolls over, and settles on his back like he just needs a moment. His chest is heaving, similar to yours. You hop off the bed, and a needy keen comes from him. You glance back at him, and he looks like he’s going to get up and follow you, but you hush him gently.

“I’m just getting some water, baby. I’ll be right back.”

He huffs flopping back onto his back. “Hurry please.” He whines.

You get back as soon as possible with a glass of water for you both to share. He sits up onto one elbow and makes a grabby hand for the cup after you’ve had your share. You swat his hand away and hold the cup to his lips. He hums, gulping the water down. He’s happy to be coddled and taken care of. When he finishes with a cute little gasp, you place the cup to the side, and brush your hand through his sweaty hair.

He butts his head against your palm and laughs. His eyes shut, and crinkled at the corners. His water break seems to have perked him up. His cock hasn’t deflated one bit. Rock hard and red, throbbing against his tummy. It’s messy and wet too.

You’re about to ask if he touched himself while you were inside of him, but before you can, you’re getting manhandled until he’s on top of you. He’s got your hands pinned above your head, and he smiles at you playfully, before leaning down to kiss you, deep and slow. He sucks on your lip, and slowly grinds his cock onto your belly, soft whines spilling from his tongue. He brushes his nose against yours as he sighs into your mouth, finally allowing himself the pleasure of paying attention to his cock.

He doesn’t allow himself relief for long, however. He’s sitting up and looking from side to side for the lube before finally spotting it. His movements are quick and hectic, like he’s too excited and overly eager.

You rub your hands over his strong thighs. “Hey, slow down. You don’t have to rush. We have all night.”

He sighs at your touch, and nods softly. He whispers. “Yeah… okay. I love you.”

The little affection makes you swoon, absolutely smitten. “I love you.” You squeeze at his legs, tenderly.

He hums. “Gonna ride you now.” He opens the lube and continues with eager actions, almost like you didn’t even slow him down just a moment ago. You smile fondly to yourself. Jeongguk’s too busy slicking up your cock again to notice the mushy look.

He’s got a hand reaching behind him and he’s gripping your cock to line it up with his hole. He wiggles to get into the right position before slowly starting to sink down. His eyebrows are pinched, and his mouth falls open. But his eyes roll back when he bottoms out. His hands are braced on your stomach.

“Oh, I love it like this.” He whimpers. His legs tense at your sides, almost like he’s trying to close his legs at the pleasure he feels from your cock being tucked inside of him, hitting all the right places. He starts to grind on your cock, soft pleasured little mewls just tumbling off his tongue.

He looks so good, whining, grinding on you with his weeping cock displayed. But you wanna see him lose it on your cock. See him fall apart at how good it feels, not watch him bask in it.

“Bounce on it.” You say, voice sounding almost as fucked out as his. You know your panties are soaked through at this point, pussy pulsing and neglected, tucked away behind the strap.

Jeongguk nods. “Yeah, wanna.”

He’s lifting himself off your cock to the tip before sliding down on it again, hard and fast. It punches a sharp gasp from his lungs. He finds a pace he likes and keeps it up, his thighs tensing, and his abs flexing as he tests his stamina, chasing that euphoric feeling he wants so so badly. He’s so strong and fit, bouncing up and down on your cock as loud unabashed moans fill the room.

The force of him riding you makes your tits jiggle, bouncing around until they catch his attention. He groans before his hands find them, squeezing hard, using them as leverage as he pulls and drags his hips over yours. Your cock must be rubbing over his prostate because he’s losing his mind. All kinds of noises leave his mouth, and the expressions he makes are filthy.

“Fuck baby. You make me feel so good. The best- I-” He eyes squeeze shut and his mouth opens in a silent moan, overwhelmed, before a guttural groan sounds from deep within his chest. “God. Wanna cum on your cock, baby. Fuck me-”

You laugh, wonderstruck, and kind of deliriously high on the satisfaction and fulfillment you get from seeing Jeongguk feel so just…. Good. “Yeah baby? You’re gonna cum for me? All over my cock?”

He whimpers and nods as he gets back to bouncing, a desperation to his movements that wasn’t there before. His cock is slapping against both of your stomachs with nasty wet noises due to his precum getting everywhere. You feel some fly and hit your neck, his cock just dripping, weeping and begging to cum.

It won’t be long though, before he cums. You feel the way his thighs tense, and he gets that confused look on his face, and he’s got that puzzled pitch to his moans. It’s the way he always gets when he cums untouched, always in awe that he can do it himself, without a hand around his cock. His whole body is flushed and hot to the touch, sweat making him glow in the soft light of your bedroom lamp.

He throws his head back, neck extended, and veins bulging, before looking down at his bouncing cock. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He’s so whiny and noisy when he moans.

“Yeah?” You ask again, “Do it baby, show me how. You can do it, cum for me.”

He’s nodding frantically, “Yeah- I’m gonna... Fuck, yes- Yeah, I’m-” He bounces a few more times, silent aside from the obscene squelching noises of your skin meeting, before his body tenses one last time before that string in him snaps. “Cumming-” He chokes it out. His moans don’t stop the whole time his cock shoots out his load, landing on your tummy. The moans even turn into cries, actual tears filling his eyes and falling down his cheeks. His body jerks and twitches with his orgasm. But still, he’s grinding on you, your cock still rubbing that spot inside of him, it’s like he never wants the feeling to end, even if it’s devastating, bordering on too much to handle.

You smooth your hands all over his sweaty body, before firmly placing them on his hips, stopping him. “Hey. You’re good, you did so good baby, you don’t have to keep going.”

Jeongguk’s cries are quiet, and he takes a few deep stuttering breaths to try and calm himself down, nodding with your soothing words. He rubs the back of his hand at his eyes, trying to dry them. It doesn’t help much, he’s calmed himself some but a few silent tears still make their way out, along with some soft hiccupping breaths.

“Lay down, and wait for me, hmm?” You whisper gently. He nods and lifts himself slowly, wincing at the sore ache in his hole. It’s more prevalent now that the pleasure has subsided. He all but collapses onto your pillow.

“I’m gonna get some more water, and a towel okay?”

He grunts in response.

Before you go, you strip out of the gear, just tossing it on the ground, eager to get back to Jeongguk after getting the things you need.

When you get back, he is in the same exact position, and you laugh lightly.

“Baby?” You ask, making sure he didn’t fall asleep.

Another grunt.

Good, he would hate you in the morning if you left him to sleep being so messy.

“Sit up, I have water and snacks and cleaning supplies.”

His head pops up. “Snacks?” His hair is sticking up on one side.

You laugh, endeared. He’s not crying anymore either, a good sign that he will be okay in just a little while after some kisses and love.

“Yeah, I got some of those seaweed chips you like, and some water.”

He sits up, leaning back on the pillows knowing the drill for after butt stuff. You hand him the water and the chips. He eats first.

“You hungry?” You ask, fitting yourself between his legs with the warm washcloth. He opens easily, munching away. You both are far past after sex shyness.

He talks with his mouth full. “Yeah. Jimin said not to eat the day off.”

You hum curiously, but don’t question it. Jimin partakes in butt stuff much more than you both.

You’ve got all the lube cleaned off his thighs and cheeks, now all that’s left is his hole. You do it as gently as you can, knowing he’s sore just from how red and swollen and puffy it is. But he still winces.

“How bad is it?” He mumbles.

You hesitate. “Um… You’re gonna be a little sore.” You tell him simply.

He groans, before downing his water. When he’s done, he says, “Practice is going to suck.”

You nod in agreement. It was. You wrap the used cloth in the blanket you used to protect your sheets, once again just tossing the bundle to the floor.

“Worth it though,” He smiles, pleased.

You chuckle as you find your place by him. He’s set his refreshments aside and lets you curl against him. His body sags with exhaustion when he feels your warmth press into him. You plant kisses on every inch of skin you can reach. He purrs.

“Why’d you keep going?” You ask, between smooches.

“I don’t know… it just felt so good. I guess I didn’t want it to stop.” He’s quiet, and his words are said on a sigh.

You nod, your kisses making your way to his lips. You just kiss him, slow and easy, for a few minutes until he yawns into it. He giggles.

“I’m so tired man.”

“I bet man.” You tease.

He kisses you one more time before asking, “Will you tickle my back until I fall asleep?” It’s hopeful and so sugary sweet.

“Yeah roll over.”

It’s barely a few minutes before you're met with his soft snores. You kiss his shoulder blade, before following right behind him.

~~~~

you ask for pegging and you shall receive :] i hope you liked it and that it met ur pegging standards askdkhjd as always, comments and feedback and asks and notes are loved and appreciated. thank you for reading friends ily :*

2K notes · View notes

bangtangalicious · 4 years ago

Text

death valley (m) | part 7

summary: welcome to death valley. once you’re in, there’s no telling whether you’ll make it out alive. a summer internship turns wild with blurry nights of dangerous men, dirty money, and extremely hot sex. you soon get caught in a savage game of greed, power and obsession, only to find out that you are the grand prize

pairing: ot7 x f.reader smut ft: yoongi x reader, seokjin x reader, hoseok x reader

genre: smut. yandere. mystery. thriller. gang!au rockstar!au fightclub!au

wordcount: 9.3k

warnings: reader discretion advised. multiple & explicit smut scenes, rough sex (smacking, manhandling, etc), very obsessive & possessive themes, manipulation, use of restraints (mouth), bondage (collar, leash), slight sadism kink, physical roughness, guns, heavy drug use/reference, breast play, mentions of addiction/addiction prone behaviors, unrealistic sex endurance levels (readers really out here banging), dubcon/coersive sex, reader uses humor as a coping mechanism, degradation, toxic relationships, yelling, crying, character death (or is it), oral sex, shower sex, technically cheating depending on how you look at it, daddy kink, praise, implied stalking, yoongi loves spoiling his baby girl, impreg kink if you squint, dom!yoongi (duh), dom!hoseok, dom!seokjin

a/n: i spent way too long on this HAHAHA

F L A S H B A C K--

The crowd roared as the fight came to a close. Jin stepped out of the ring reluctantly, someone handed him water while another man wrapped a towel around his shoulders. A soft ringing noise resonated through his ears, blood teasing the edges of his vision. He pushed everyone away to find his prep room. Sighing deeply, he looked down at his trembling hands. His body was on overdrive, he was getting desperate.

He placed his hands against the wall, unable to think straight with the way his heart was pounding out of his chest. He could hear the footsteps of someone stop in his doorway, not having to look to know exactly who it was.

“Do you have any coke on you?” Jin wiped the sweat off of his forehead with a towel, panting heavily, “Seriously Jimin. I’m gonna fucking lose my mind”

Jin had always been extremely unstable. It was in his personality to get aggressively addicted to things. Whenever Jin went too long without it, it was like he surrendered himself to a beast. Jimin liked to call it his maniac side.

“Can you stop thinking about getting high for one fucking second? We have a problem here” Jin hears a soft thud causing him to finally turn and look. Jimin had just dropped your unconscious body onto the hard floor.

“Well well. Who is this?” Jin crouched down and slid his fingers over your parted lips, digging his nail into the soft flesh until it began to bleed slightly. As you eyes slowly began to flutter open, a carnal desire coiled in Jin’s chest. He had never seen anyone quite like you before.

"Hi there cutie” Jin grinned, “What’s your name?” Your eyes were quivering with fear, something about your vulnerable state was so delicious to him. You glanced towards Jimin, only beginning to tremble even more.

“P..park Jimin” You gasped, “Oh my goodness! I...I love you. Wait no. I...sorry...I’m a huge fan” You rubbed your eyes. Jin’s heart trembled at your dazed expression. “Where am I? What’s going on?” He wanted to eat you alive.

Jimin joined Jin on the floor besides you “Well thank you pretty girl. It’s nice to meet you...?��

“Y/n” You introduced yourself, shaking his hand before turning to Jin, looking at him with your tempting, lustful eyes. Y/n. Jin’s head was pounding as the withdrawal began taking over him. He had never seen someone so beautiful in his life.

Jin had never found anyone else even close to catching his eye before. He would sit mindlessly on his phone while girls would be on their knees, gagging on his cock, waiting for the mind-numbing minutes until he could finally cum and leave. The prospect of a relationship, of love, it seemed otherworldly. Perhaps it wasn’t for him. He had drugs and that kept him happy. But you. You were a high he had yet to fully taste. Looking at you alone had him feeling a glow unlike any other.

“Hey” You said to him. Jin felt dizzy as you spoke, getting lost in your gaze, “You’re the fighter guy right? Jin?”

Hearing you say his name had him bucking forward, trying to hide his growing erection from the famous star who was by his side. “Yeah. Hi. Great to meet you”

Jimin got up, brushing the dust off of his pants, “I’m getting out of here” He grabbed his jacket from your arms, “Jin, please search her address and get Y/n home.” Jimin reached into his back pocket “These should make her forget” He slid a pill into your mouth and you swallowed obediently.

Jin began to break a sweat, watching the way your lips sucked in the small capsule and gulped it down it so nicely. Jimin left without another beat, leaving you in Jin’s arms, your eyes getting heavy with each passing second.

You blinked, eyes wide with uncertainty as Jin held you close. “You can take me home?”

Jin nodded, “I need to do something really quick first” He slid his hand down his pants to begin palming his erection. His vision was turning blue as his headache began to spread. “God you’re so pretty” He grabbed your jaw, ensuring that you couldn’t look anywhere but his face.

Jin felt like his mind was running miles a minute. You looked so cute and helpless. He wanted to tear you to pieces, he wanted to see you bruised and battered, splayed out for him to ravish you as he pleased.

Was it wrong? Was it wrong that he wanted to shove his cock in your mouth while you slowly lost consciousness? In the moment, nothing made more sense to him.

Your pretty lips, your sweet eyes, how could he not? Your lips trembled, eyes half lidded, rolling back slightly as you fought to stay awake.

“Oh fuck oh fuck. Don’tttt...don’t fucking look at me like that Y/n. If you look at me like that I’m gonna--gonna--ohhhh baby, fuck what are you doing to me” Jin gasped loudly as cum spilled all over his palm.

P R E S E N T D A Y--

Amongst the sweet bliss of your dreams, a current washed over you and reality had your eyes opening. Your heart felt heavy as your vision focused in on the dry walls that continued to encage you. Your body pulsed with soreness, reminding you of the previous nights events.

To say you were upset would be an understatement, but you were shocked more than anything. You had never seen Jin act so unhinged before. It was almost as though he quite literally couldn’t control himself, the thought alone bringing a bitter taste to your mouth.

Before you could decide on whether to give him a piece of your mind and reprimand his behavior, you hear him wincing with pain across the room. He lay leaned against the wall, sweat trickling down his muscles from the heat. His head tilted back in a soft groan, dark hair now extremely tangled and messy.

“Are you okay?” You got up with a start. Jin exhaled before shaking his head in defeat.

“No, my leg still really fucking hurts. I feel like absolute shit right now” He punched the side of his fist into the ground in frustration. “I feel like I’m going insane”

You couldn’t even begin to imagine his pain. At least you got to leave the cell for some time, he had been here all along. Alone. Wounded. It was just awful. Yoongi should have had the courtesy to take him to the hospital, but then again did Yoongi even have a courteous bone in his body? You were no longer sure.

“It just sucks too because I’m trapped here, helpless, and all I can fucking do is feel this pain” Jin's jaw clenched. "And I’m sorry for last night I just...you were just there, so close. I just couldn’t help it. I could finally forget the pain even if it was just for a moment”

“It’s okay, I understand” You knew that feeling far too well. Jin reached his arms out to you, pulling you to sit next to him. His hands trailed down your thighs as he looked at you intently. “You know, I don’t mind...if it helps distract you from the pain. We can” You cleared your throat nervously, heat rising to your cheeks, “I mean, just tell me what you need”

Jin’s eyes widened with surprise. “Really?” He asks, gulping, “You don’t have to”

“I want to Jin. Let me help. I’m half the reason you’re in this mess” You would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about it. Jin was extremely handsome, you had noticed that from the moment you saw him in the arena. With a body like that, your heart skipped a beat at what all he might have in store for you.

His fingers slid between your legs, making you gasp softly. He tickled your clothed cunt softly. He flattened his fingers, teasing your entrance before moving to your clit. Licking his lips, he sucked lightly on your ear. Your hips bucked up as a ticklish sensation shot through your body. You felt wet.

And you knew he could feel it too, as he drew his fingers away. “Can I?” He mumbled into your neck. You nodded, flustered and warm all over as he pushed your panties aside and began drawing light circles on your clit. You twitch at the sensations hitting your nerves. His other hand cupped your jaw tightly, turning your face towards him.

“Oh fuckk, Jin that feels so good” You didn’t know why you felt so horny, whether it was the morning or the temporary relief from reality. Jin carefully slid one finger into your cunt, just barely, his delicate movements sending shocks of pleasure through your tired body.

Your pussy clenched down on his finger, and he growled. Pulling out, he popped the finger into his mouth before sighing, “Can I tell you what I want?” You could hear a slight tremble in his voice, “Will you do anything for me?”

You choked on your own breath, nodding dumbly as Jin’s gaze flashed with desire. “Get on all fours over me. Wanna spank that pretty ass”

Jin was taken aback at your willingness. You obeyed so well, his hands kneaded your tender flesh, enjoying the view of your ass sticking out for him. You winced as you felt his palm smack against you hard, making your knees tremble with pain and pleasure.

That’s for sleeping with Jungkook. He smacked again, with full force. He knew it stung. He could hear the pain in your pathetic whimpers and he loved it. And Hobi. Smack. And Jimin. Smack. You cried out as the impact caused you to fall forward onto your chest. And Yoongi.

Your ass was flushed, as he tenderly rubbed over the bruises he had so generously given you. He leaned forward, letting his tongue glide over the soreness before playfully biting down.

“Jin...that hurts” He ignored you, proceeded to slide down his pants, his turgid length already incredibly hard. He tugged at his cock quickly, the sounds of his slippery pre-cum barely noticeable under your soft moans.

“Sit on my cock. Nice and easy, lean back on me” His cock twitched as you turned your head to look back at him briefly, your eyes glossy from the pain, but full of curiosity nevertheless. You crawled back over him to line his cock with your soaking cunt. Jin grabbed your hips, helping ease you down onto his length.

“Ah...ah...” His size stretched you out, pussy swallowing him in. You cursed, eyes rolling back. He wanted to see your face, see how fucked out you would look as he gave it to you so good.

“Quiet, he might hear us.” He carefully tugged off his shirt from your body with your help, then used it to cover your mouth. He pulled the knot tight, the fabric tugging at the sides of your mouth uncomfortably.

His hands stroked over your bare chest quietly, humming in approval, “That’s a good girl...gonna be all quiet for me now right?” His cock twitched inside of you as he heard your muffled voice. His fingers weaved through your hair before he clenched his fist, making you wince. He pulled your head back as he thrusted up into your soaking cunt “Hear that? You’re loving this aren’t you, you fucking whore”

He grabbed your neck, holding it in a tight grip as he pounded up into you. He no longer cared if he was being too loud, he moaned at the top of his lungs. You felt so good. Your pussy welcomed his cock like it was meant to be there, so slippery and warm for him to just fuck over and over and over again.

He couldn’t hear you softly plead for him to let you breathe over the sounds of his own cursing. He didn’t care. If you passed out, you deserved to. Your body was his for the taking, it had to learn. You said yourself you would do what he wanted. He needed this. It was the least you could do for all the trouble he’d been through for you.

He let your neck go, and as you gasped for a saving breath, he felt your walls leak all over him. Your muffled cries sounding like music to his ears. Your whole body was shaking from pleasure.

His gaze fell onto your back, sinking his teeth onto your scars. You winced loudly as he marked you, his knife wound from the previous night still stinging and tender with pain.

Grabbing your head again, he pushed your face down onto the ground. You thrusted your hips helplessly, feeling your orgasm approaching as the cold floor pressed painfully against your nose.

“Wait..wait...I’m so close” Your words were intangible through the cloth. You were humping down on him so desperately he couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him. There, in front of him with your ass bouncing from how feverishly you wanted to cum all over his cock, he was in heaven.

Jin felt your heat melt as you came, screaming in ecstasy against the restraint. You limply relaxed onto the floor as Jin continued to thrust up into you, holding your hips down tightly to dig deeper and deeper into your messy, dripping cunt.

Jin felt like his whole body would explode in pleasure. This was the peak. His life couldn’t get any better than this moment where he had you just like he dreamed. He wondered if it would always feel this good. Of course it would. It was you after all.

Your core clenched as the stimulation became too much. He looked into your eyes and could see the streams of tears staining your cute cheeks. It was that look. That pleading look that was begging him to stop. Jin came with a loud cry, tilting his head back as he smacked your locker back one final time.

Breathing heavily, he lifted you off of him, watching his seed leak out of you. You laid down onto your side, absolutely spent. He slid down to lay behind you, hugging you to him as he undid the mouth wrap with his teeth. He stroked your body tenderly, hands finding your breasts.

“Holy shit” You coughed, finally able to breathe air directly. “Officer Kim Seokjin, that was...wow”

Jin didn’t respond, he simply smiled, pinching your nipples causing you to squirm. That was nothing baby.

Taehyung hated being wrong. He hated not knowing and not having control of any situation. So when Yoongi was shaking his head, denying that he had caused all the recent chaos that had been keeping Taehyung up at night, he felt like he was going to tear the entire bar apart, floorboard by floorboard.

“Y/n had mentioned she was kidnapped. I didn’t hear about it from you so I figured it must have been Jimin, and that you made sure she didn’t really get hurt. It ended up with her opening up to me, so I wasn’t really too mad about it” Yoongi said calmly, sipping his drink.

“From the footage it looked like Namjoon and Y/n took the pills and blacked out. Hobi was drunk too, but when he sobered up he had gotten a call to take them to the warehouse. I figured you had told him to do that.”

Yoongi raised his eyebrows, “Why the fuck would I want to kidnap and beat up Namjoon? I need him healthy to fight. Don’t be such an idiot Kim"

“It wasn’t just that though. Jimin’s accident happened right after I sent you the video. I figured you were jealous”

Setting his glass down, Yoongi swiveled in his stool to light a cigar before leaning back casually “The video of Y/n and Jimin fucking? Please, I don’t give a shit”

“Well, then I told you that Jungkook showed her the lab and gave her literal heroin so I imagine you weren’t happy about that”

The smoke dissipated slowly from his lips. Taehyung frowned at the scent. “I wasn’t. But still, I didn’t stab him. I was with Y/n, taking care of her because I love her.”

Taehyung clenched his fists. He did not want to hear Yoongi go on and on about how much he loved you, he did not care. He wanted to know who was messing with his plans. Taehyung had things to do. He had operations in play. He couldn’t afford any mistakes.

“Is that all? Jimin’s album is coming out tomorrow so I need to get some rest” Yoongi scoffed suddenly, “Especially now that Jimin’s gone ahead and brought Y/n into the media’s eye. What a fucking idiot”

“How are you planning on dealing with him? Are you gonna kill him?”

Yoongi laughed. “Taehyung. Seriously. What is up with you these days? If I wanted Jimin dead he would be dead dumbass.” Yoongi clicked his tongue, “Like I said before, I’m not worried about her and Jimin. She hates him. I know she does.”

Taehyung was not expecting that at all. Not from Yoongi. He had seen Yoongi wrench out people’s teeth if they didn’t pay him. He had seen Yoongi shoot innocent people, not even noticing when Taehyung had to turn around and puke his guts out because of it. But looking at the powerful man besides him now, he could barely recognize him.

“Just find out who was giving Hobi those orders and kill them. I don’t care who it is, just kill them. I don’t even want to know. I don’t have time for this”

Taehyung pursed his lips, “Yoongi, you know that Jimin does really like Y/n too, right? Like, he might be falling in love with her.” Yoongi gave him a look indicating that he was not taking him seriously, “I’m serious! I’ve never seen him like this and I’m surprised you aren’t more worried”

“Taehyung. Do you think I’m dumb?” Yoongi’s expression shifted to one of annoyance, “I knew what I was doing when I offered her an internship. I knew what I was doing when I signed Jimin on, knowing full well how much of a fan she is. Of course I knew she would pursue him. I needed her to see for herself, what a bratty piece of shit that man is. I knew she would hate him Taehyung, killing him would mean she might still care. She might still have feelings for him. That’s not what I need. She can only love me. I have to show her I’m better than him”

Yoongi took another puff of his cigar before continuing, “Now, I’ll admit things got fucked up when fucking Namjoon kept on bringing her to Death Valley. Idiot doesn’t take a fucking hint.”

Taehyung gulped down the rest of his drink before slamming the glass on the bar top. “Another please” He waved to the bartender. “I can take Jin off your hands now. He’s seen your face, but he might know stuff so it could be good to keep him alive” Yoongi simply shrugged, setting his cigar aside.

“I don’t care what you do with him. I want her alone tomorrow. I’m coming clean”

The next morning, Yoongi brought Taehyung back to the apartment. Taehyung lifted Jin out of the cell and claimed to be taking him to a clinic. After they left, it was just you and Yoongi.

Yoongi crouched down and extended a hand to you, not wanting to come too close. He knew you were upset with him. He could feel it.

“Morning my love” His voice was songlike, eyes pleading as he looked at you, an absolute mess on the floor, like you were his whole world. “Come on, let me run you a bath. I’m sorry”

You knew if you looked at him for too long you wouldn’t be able to resist. But after everything you had just heard, you wanted to just be alone.

“I’ll explain everything. I promise, I don’t want any lies between us” Reluctantly, you took his hand and he pulled you up into a hug. You teared up at his embrace. You could feel the simple adoration through his touch. You could have just melted into his arms.

Leading you out of the cell, he sat you down in the kitchen while he went to draw a hot bath for you. “Will you be joining me?” You asked him dryly, attempting to put up some attitude in whatever way you could.

To your surprise he shook his head, “No. I’ll wait till you’re done. Enjoy yourself” You frowned slightly, knowing a part of you didn’t want to hear the answer. “If you need anything just call for me okay?” He took your hands in his, kissing them gently. “After, I want to give you something. I’ve put some clothes for you on the dresser inside”

“Wait” You gasped, taking in his presence fully. “I’m sorry a...about Jimin and the media”

Yoongi shook his head, “It’s not your fault. It’s like you said, he’s just a typical rockstar” The two of your shared a small laugh. You realized then how rarely you had ever seen Yoongi smile. It was a beautiful smile, and you hoped to see it again.

You stepped into Yoongi’s bathroom. It wasn’t very large, but it was very high tech. A modern tub lay with soft white suds dancing over it. You grinned inwardly as you saw how he had laid out a blunt and a lighter for you. The water smelt of lavender, and was just the right temperature as you stripped down and slid in. You closed your eyes, inhaling deeply while appreciating the moment of peace. The eye of the storm. Inside you knew that this might be the only break you would get. Jimin’s album was coming out tomorrow. You had no idea what to expect.

“Yoongi” You called out, tilting your head back and sinking into the tub deeper.

He appeared rapidly, not really reacting to your undressed state as he knelt down by the tub, “Everything okay?”

“Stay here” You moved your arm out of the water, soap dripping onto the tiled floor as you tilted Yoongi’s cheek towards you and kissed him deeply. “Join me” You gasped into his mouth, “Please”

Yoongi kept his lips on yours, pushing his tongue into your mouth. He missed kissing you so much. Not having you the past night had been incredibly hard for him. “No love. I need you to relax. I’m about to tell you some things today and...you might be scared.”

You whined against him, pulling him closer to you while he did little to resist, “But I want you” You pouted.

Yoongi rolled his eyes with a soft smirk, “I want you too love. Don’t stay in there too long okay. Then get dressed and I’ll be in the kitchen” With one final kiss on your lips, he backed away from you, and you slid back into the warm water.

Yoongi had set out a cute little sundress for you, one that was scandalously sheer, but nevertheless cute. The dress felt blissfully light on your body, a slight breeze fluttering up your skirt as you spun around in front of a large mirror.

You felt sexy, but most of all you felt free. You sighed heavily as you made your way to the kitchen, twirling around playfully before falling back into Yoongi’s embrace.

“Hey” You got on your tippy toes to allow Yoongi to plant a kiss on your lips from behind you, smiling into one another. There was that smile again. It made your heart melt like butter.

He wrapped his arms around you, nuzzling into your neck, “Fuck love you smell so good. You look so good.” You giggled as you felt his erection press up on your ass “How can I control myself...” His words were breathless as his hands trailed down to the hem of your dress, lifting it lightly to reveal the frilly lingerie he had bought for you. He cursed under his breath, pulling your ass back against him.

“Ah ah! You said you were gonna give me something” You teased, getting your payback for earlier. Yoongi nodded, reaching into the drawer to bring out a box. He slid it onto the kitchen counter “Is this for me?” He nods as you excitedly open the box. In it is a pistol, with gold accents and your initials engraved onto the side with what looked like diamonds. Beneath the device was a magazine of matching color. You looked at Yoongi with shock.

“I had it made just for you. Do you like it?” His hands covered yours as he guided you to take the gun into your hands and load the magazine into it. “I hope you never have to use it. But I needed you to have something to protect yourself” He turned and pulled your wrists to aim the barrel against his heart. “You could even kill me if you wanted to”

You were at a loss for words, but Yoongi continued, keeping the gun in your hand aimed at himself “I’m not a good guy Y/n. I’m dangerous. That’s why I had Taehyung take you out of Death Valley that night and had to throw you into that cell.” He gave you so space backing away. You felt bad, knowing that he must be feeling anxious to reveal himself to you, despite you knowing exactly what he was going to say.

You tried to give him a comforting look, unable to move your hands from his steady grip, “I’m a gangster.”

He waited for you to react. You weren’t sure what to do, so you just parted your lips in feigned shock. Wow! No way! Really! You felt like laughing, but his gaze was so serious you stopped yourself.

"I have a drug syndicate. At Death Valley. The money I make from that I use to gamble. That’s why we have the fights. I have boys trained and bet money on them. We make millions through that but really it’s just power plays” He looks away from you momentarily, “Anyways, no one knows that I, Min Yoongi, am the one running things there, but still I have a lot of enemies. A lot of people would love to see me dead. To see me lose.”

“Since you’re my partner, you are a liability. I need you to be safe. Normally I’ll have someone from the gang accompany you wherever you go. You won’t know who it is so don’t worry about it, it’s just in case anything happens”

Partner? Since when? You frowned slightly at the label. Then again, this guy did carve his name into your skin. Maybe that was how big scary gangsters asked girls out these days, who were you to judge.

“I don’t want you to be scared of me okay” Yoongi finally took the gun from you and set it aside, “Me giving you this means I trust you. With my secret and my life.”

You began to feel flustered. You hadn’t even thought about what it would mean to actually date or be associated with a gang member, let alone a kingpin. Now the media thought you were dating Jimin, who was also conveniently high up in all this.

“I know it’s a lot” Yoongi said. “You can always ask me if you have questions. Now let’s get to work okay. Big day coming, I need my your expert opinion by my side”

The low growl of the engine was the only sound to be heard as Taehyung drove Jin to his own home. The world came still as he parked the car. Sighing heavily, he checked his radar before exiting the car, lifting Jin.

“You think you can stand buddy?” Jin nodded, and Taehyung slowly helped him find steady ground. He held Jin up, assisting him as they walked in through the back entrance to his basement.

A single lightbulb illuminated just enough for Taehyung and Jin to see each other’’s faces. Nothing more, nothing less. Wiping sweat from his forehead, he placed Jin into a chair.

“So it’s this Yoongi guy huh” Jin remarked. “And surprise surprise...you’re his little bitch too. Do your lips hurt from all the ass you have to kiss?”

“Oh please, Yoongi can go to hell for all I care.” Taehyung chuckled, surveying an array of knives that were displayed on the wall before his eyes settled on a small blade, curved ever so slightly. “I do need you to keep your mouth shut about me to Jimin though. If it weren’t for me, Yoongi would have let you rot in there”

Jin tilted his head, a small smile growing on his face as he understood the implications of Taehyung’s words, “I see. You’re plotting against both of them huh?”

“What’s I’m plotting is none of your goddamn business, Officer. So tell me, what’s it gonna take to keep you quiet hm? Money? More coke?”

“You know, I might be able to help you. You’re playing a dangerous game Taehyung. I know what you’re doing and I know how you plan on doing it. You’re using Y/n as bait. You’re using her to pin Jimin against Yoongi so you can sweep in and take over.”

Taehyung froze. First he smiled, then burst out into giggles before full on laughing. “It’s that obvious huh? Fine, hypothetically let’s say we work together. What’s in it for you?”

Jin licked his lips, “All I ask, is that when the dust settles, Y/n is mine. I know things Taehyung. I’m a cop after all”

Taehyung rolled his eyes and sighed, “Is that it?”

“And I get to kill them. My way”

Taehyung took a moment to think. “Okay Officer. You might just have yourself a deal.”

The clicking of the keyboard resonated through Yoongi’s office that was all but quiet as the chaos of an upcoming release had taken the whole building by storm.

He had you sitting on his thigh, hands around his neck as he would run final details by you. But with the way he would occasionally tap his foot, causing his leg to vibrate underneath you, you couldn’t help craving him more and more with each passing minute.

He wouldn’t react as you nibbled his ear, placed kisses on his neck. You sighed loudly, sexual frustration building up within you. Finally you slid down a strap of your dress, letting it, along with your bra, glide down your breast. You tried to pull his chin towards you but he was too caught up in reading the emails he had gotten.

You really did respect the guy. For whatever he is, he took his work...of all kinds...very seriously. That itself turned you on. “Yoongi” You cooed at him, causing him to hum slightly.

“Yes love?” He muttered, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“Look” He finally surrendered to you, allowing you to turn his chin to see your perky breast in his line of vision. He was surprised, looking at you briefly before placing his mouth over you and suckling you roughly.

You bit your lip, his tongue felt hot as he rolled it around your nipples. He took his time, lapping away at you, digging his teeth and gliding his wet lips over the perked bud.

You buried your face into his soft black hair, his musky scent overwhelming you. Stuttering his name from your lips as he continued to suck your tit harshly, his hands trailed up your bare legs under the skirt of your dress to tug at the waistline of your panties. He let his fingers glide beneath the soft lace, teasing you.

Yoongi gave your breast a final sloppy kiss, before he let go with a pop, looking up at your fucked out face. He chuckled, bringing one hand to slide down your other strap and then tenderly squeezing your other breast. He rolled the tip between his fingers before placing his mouth of it.

Heat was coiling in your chest, soft whines leaving your parted lips. You moved from his thigh to straddle his waist, rolling your hips against his growing bulge. The friction shot pleasure through your core, making you leak with desire.��

You were sure Yoongi could feel how wet you were. Nevertheless his focus remained on ravishing your breast. He left chaste kisses on your eager nub, nipping away as his mouth tenderly sucked, making sure to give it as much attention as the other.

His kisses then trailed between your breasts, traveling up to your neck where they became rougher. His movements tickled you, making you squirm as he kissed beneath your jaw, tilting your face back.

“Mmm that’s enough love, we can’t here” He mumbled. You groaned in complaint, panting with frustration as Yoongi’s lips left your skin and his hands pulled your straps back onto your shoulders. “I booked us a room somewhere special for a few days because our bedroom is still fucked up from the other night. We can have each other there, I promise, okay love?”

Yoongi was a man of taste. Being in the rock industry, he was used to things being grunge and edgy, but personally he always had a soft spot for excellence. That’s why, while maintaining the all black getup, he would dress in silk shirts, pure silver jewelry and diamond studded jackets.

He had picked a hotel not too far from the label, but one of the finest places in miles around. It was the same venue that would be the site of Jimin’s album release event the following night. Yoongi had booked out the largest suite in the building, wanting to show you the best night of your life.

And you had a feeling it would be, as you walked in to the large room, lit with purple LED undertones that complemented the fading sunset that was gleaming in through the expansive glass wall. On the bed was a bottle of champagne in a bucket of ice.

“Holy shit” You mumbled, wandering around as Yoongi directed the bellboys to bring in the luggage. Yoongi insisted he would take care of all your needs when packing. He claimed to have someone go back to your apartment and grab some of your essential items, but also insisted in buying you new things. You had to admit, gangster or not, Yoongi really knew how to spoil a girl.

You leaned against the glass, peering out at the skyline, a bright coral pink even still. Yoongi came up besides you, tilting your face towards him to kiss you fondly.

“Can I pour you a drink love?” He sighed into your mouth. You nodded, watching as Yoongi pulled the champagne out of the bucket, popping the cork and pouring two glasses with ease. He hands you one, clinking his own against yours. You took a few sips, savoring the slightly sour bubbly liquid before setting your glass aside. Yoongi pulled you towards him by the waist.

“This is all amazing Yoongi” You wrapped your arms around his neck. He caressed your hips, swaying you against him almost as though you were slow dancing. After a quick peck to the lips he spoke again,

“I’ve been thinking about the future. How would you like to work for me full time? As a junior producer?”

Your eyes widened in surprise, “I...wow, I would love that, that would be the dream” Yoongi smiled, gliding his lips over your cheek, behind your ear where he began to leave small wet kisses. His hands trailed up your sides and he hooked his fingers under the strap of your dress, tugging it so the garment slid seamlessly off your body and onto a pile on the floor.

“Shit” Yoongi bit his lip, eying you up and down in your angelic lingerie. “Just missing one thing” You pouted as he stepped away from you, walking over to a cabinet to pull a studded black collar and leash from the drawer.

He wrapped the collar around your neck carefully, adjusting the strap so that it was nice and tight. He admired the way it looked against your skin, tracing and tugging on it with his fingers.

“Beautiful.” Taking the leash in his hand, he gently pushed you down onto your knees, stroking your cheek as you looked up at him eagerly. “You know what to do” He blew a kiss at you teasingly.

You began to unbutton his pants, sliding them down along with his boxers. Licking you lips, you took his length into your hands, stroking him slowly, looking up for his validation.

He groaned at your touch “Look at you hm?” His fingers harshly ran along your jaw, pulling playfully at your bottom lip “So fucking pretty”

He tugged your lip forward, prompting you to get your mouth on his cock, his other hand holding himself steady against the wall. You wrapped your lips around the tip, letting you tongue circle around.

Your breath hitched as Yoongi suddenly tugged at your leash, forcing his cock down your throat. You gagged immediately, but he kept your face pulled forward.

You flattened your tongue, allowing Yoongi to thrust himself against the slippery sensation. His cock filled your throat, making it impossible for you to breathe. You could taste the sour pre-cum against the rigid veins all over his girthy length.

He loved the way you took him, so messy. You slobbered all over his cock, the sounds of you choking and coughing like music to his ears. Your lips were swollen and fucked out, eyes bulging as you desperately tried to maintain yourself. Tears built at the corned of your eyes making him buck his hips. You were his. Like he had always wanted. He finally owned you.

You felt his cum shoot straight down your throat, causing you to gasp in desperation, cheeks hollowing enough to allow him to push even further down your throat. Once you surrendered to swallow, Yoongi pulled out, a mixture of cum and saliva dripping all over your face.

“Bend over, hands on the wall” He ordered through gritted teeth. He lined himself up behind you, sneaking a finger deep into your heat, relishing in the wet pool of your arousal and how you leaked out all over his palm. He pushed another finger in, pumping you furiously before his eyes narrowed in on your back.

You felt his fingers fall out, causing you to whine. A sudden tug of the leash pulled you back into his chest.

“What is this?” He growled, a finger gliding over the knife scar through his name on your back. You stuttered, the collar knocking the breath out of you. “Who did this?” He dug his nails into you making you wince.

“W..what are you talking about?” Yoongi turned you around and slapped you hard.

“You know what I’m talking about. Who marked you? Who fucking dared?” He was yelling loudly despite being so close to your face. You tried to turn away but he wouldn’t let you.

“I...” You gulp. If you told Yoongi it was Jin, he would definitely go kill him. You needed Jin to be alive, in fact you were hardly even sure if he was anymore. A part of you knew Taehyung wouldn’t actually kill him. He didn’t deserve to die, not for something like this. “I don’t know”

Yoongi glared at you, the fire in his eyes evident. He dragged you relentlessly to the bed, taking the leash and using it to tie your arms to your chest.

“You wanna play fucking games huh?” Yoongi screamed. You trembled, his demeanor beginning to scare you, “I’ll show you. I’ll fucking show you what happens when you hide something from me. You’re staying like this, locked in here until you decide to tell me the truth you got that?”

Tears were already streaking down your face as you nodded. Yoongi scowled at you before climbing in the other side of the bed and turning off the lights.

Hobi arrived at the banquet hall. Preparations were already being made. The hustle of his coworkers preparing for the album release press conference and the subsequent celebration.

A few people greeted him, but looking around he noticed an absence of a certain energy. Jimin was sitting on the stage, reading over his answer sheets while his make-up artists poked at his face.

Hobi didn’t feel an ounce of guilt about what he had done to Jimin. He never liked the guy, despite having to put up a cordial face around him. It was tough for him to help Jimin put songs together when he just wanted to wrench his guts out and put a bullet through his head.

He tried avoiding the star when he could, but Jimin sought him out “Hey Hobi c’mere” Jimin snapped his fingers, pushing away the people surrounding him. Hobi took a deep breath before approaching him.

“Have you seen Y/n?”

Hobi raised his eyebrows. He at first had not been sure if you would have actually been killed or not after Jin’s little stunt the other night. It was a relief to him when he saw you appear in the news at Jimin’s side, but he was confused.

“I figured she was here already. Maybe she’s with Yoongi” Jimin rolled his eyes, “That motherfucker, honestly. Did you know those two were hanging out because I fucking didn’t” Jimin hissed. “He branded her. Apparently they got really high, she said it was an accident but I dunno that’s a bit much even for Yoongi. You should have seen how pissed off he was”

“Hanging out?” Hobi asked curiously, “Y/n and Yoongi?” He felt his stomach flip uncomfortably. “Yoongi never hangs out with employees, let alone interns”

Jimin shrugged, “Can’t blame him honestly. She’s a temptress. I’ve slept with her a bunch of times and it just keeps getting better and better”

Hobi did everything in his power not to slug Jimin in his face, out of respect to the make up artists who had spent so long trying to make this bastard look presentable. “I know”

“You do?” Jimin grinned, “Right...you who almost dated for half a second there. Then Yoongi and his fucking rules came and blew it all up” Jimin playfully pushed Hobi’s shoulder, “Man. You gotta just claim what’s yours and say fuck em. Next time. She’s mine now though, sorry”

Hobi rolled his eyes, knowing full well that you loathed Jimin. Nevertheless, the spoilt brat had a point. When the fuck did Yoongi hang out with Y/n? It didn’t make sense.

Turning to one of the overseeing secretaries, Hobi questioned which room Yoongi was staying, intending to pay him a quick visit. The secretary gave him the room number, warning him that Yoongi had mentioned he might be unavailable in the morning as he had a few errands to run.

Hobi wandered through the hotel, heading to the elevator to arrive at the top floor with all the suites. When he arrived at the door, he noticed the sign on the handle with raised eyebrows. Nevertheless he knocked “Yoongi! It’s me? Can we chat for a bit?”

“Hobi! Oh my God Hobi help me! Get me out of here!” Goosebumps appeared all over him as your shrill voice leaked through the door, “I can’t move please”

His hands were trembling. What the hell was going on? He budged at the door but it was locked. Cursing under his breath, he pulled out his gun, taking the handle and using it to knock of the handle. He pushed through the door, swallowing thickly as he saw you, leash hooked up to the bed frame, hands tied, in such a sexy little lingerie set his heart felt like exploding then and there.

“What the fuck?” Hobi rushed over to you, untying you from your restraints and clicking off the collar. Your hands went to your neck, soothing the red marks that had appeared due to the tight hold. “Yoongi did this?”

You nodded “He was punishing me. He was gonna keep me locked in here” You wanted to cry but you couldn’t even find it within yourself. Hobi noticed how defeated you looked. He hated seeing you like this.

“Why?”

You looked into his eyes, sighing at the true ignorance. Hobi knew so little about everything you had been through, you didn’t have the heart to place the burden onto him.

“Can we just get out of here? Please? I need a fucking drink” He nodded, rubbing the pads of his fingers softly over the imprints of the tight bands on your arms. “Let me get changed. That motherfucker was gonna make me miss my first album release party,” You scoffed, laughing bitterly as you stood up, “I’ll fucking show him. I’m gonna look hot as fuck and I’m gonna be all over Jimin tonight”

Hobi blinked at you in amusement but said nothing as you marched off into the bathroom.

“Come on” You called back to him, curling your finger to motion him towards you teasingly “Are you really gonna pass up the chance to fuck me in the shower?”

“Damn, you’re really something” Hobi mumbled, unable to hide the blush that grew on his cheeks.

You didn’t bother taking off your underwear, you could see how turned on Hobi was from seeing you just by the gleam in his eye. You playfully bounced into the shower, turning the water cold. The white lace on your body dampened, making the coverage practically negligible.

Hobi almost choked seeing you. You tilted your head back and let the water fall directly on your breasts. You could hear the click of his buckled as he undressed himself quickly to join you.

“Shit this is cold” Hobi touched the water before sliding into the glass cube behind you. You turned around to face him, smiling mischievously. “Can daddy clean me up?” You pouted at him, winking. Hobi rolled his eyes.

“Jesus Y/n” Hobi pulled your hips forward before lifting you into his arms, “You’re such a slut for me aren’t you? All you fucking want is daddy’s big cock is that it?”

You nodded rapidly. “Yeah. Want your cock” You slid your hand down his chest, biting your lip.

“Of course you do baby” He pressed your back against the glass, the ice cold water hitting his back as he rolled his hips into you. His hand snaked around beneath you to push aside your soaked panties and touch your throbbing clit. “Look at me baby. Does that feel good?” He began to rub small circles, watching the way your body responded to him.

“Y...yes” You groaned, burying your face into his wet hair, nails digging into his back as you held on tight. Hobi grunted, gliding his finger back to trace along your folds.

“So fucking needy baby. No one fucks you as good as I do huh?” Hobi’s hot breath tickled your ear. “You missed me didn’t you, you slut. Only I know how you really like it” He pushed one finger in “Isn’t that right?”

You nodded, a sobbing mess of moans muffling into his neck as he rapidly pumped his finger into you, “Yes” You exhaled, “Want Daddy. Only want Daddy”

“I know. Oh, you poor little thing” He shoved another finger in, making you mewl as he stretched you out, “Do you think about me huh? When Jimin’s ramming his cock into do you think about me?” Your pussy clenched down at his words, “Did you fuck Yoongi too? Our boss, god you are such a little whore aren’t you?”

He slid in a third finger and you began to scream out in pleasure, “Oh fuck Hobi yes, right there right there” You panted heavily, “More...please” The mention of Yoongi’s name had you leaking all over.

The thought that he could just come back in at any moment had you falling apart. He would look so fucking angry. He would probably kill Hobi on the spot.

Why did that turn you on so much?

Heat pulsed through your body. Hobi slid his fingers out, spanking your pussy before sliding you down onto your feet.

“I missed you” Hobi said weakly. Your eyes softened. You knew you were taking advantage of him. You knew your heart was really elsewhere, as much as you wished it wasn’t.

“Kiss me” You didn’t want to think, you cupped his face bringing it to yours and pressing your lips against his. You poured yourself into the kiss, the roll of your hips matching the way your lips wrestled one another.

Hobi deepened the kiss, pining your wrists above your head. He gasped as he pulled away, staring darkly into your eyes, “Do you want Daddy’s big cock?” You nodded, his lips barely inched from yours “Yeah? Want Daddy to fuck you good? Fill you up with his cum? Fuck his babies into you huh? You want that?”

He turned you around, hand gripping under your thigh to prop your leg up onto the sliding shower door handle. You winced at the stretch but Hobi didn’t react. You feel him slap his hot cockhead against your ass. Holding your hips steady, he slid his cock into you easily. Your slick inviting him in deep into your throbbing heat. You whimpered as his dick pushed through your walls, filling you to the brim.

“Good girl” He growled, “Such a good warm little pussy for daddy, such a good fucking girl oh goddd” He slowly pulled out before thrusting back in. His pace was excruciatingly slow, but the burn of him pumping you in and out felt so good.

“Fuck I’m close Daddy” You were practically drooling, lips parted in pure bliss as Hobi fucked you deeper and deeper, your head slamming against the glass. “Want you to fill me up daddy. Want your cum” You whined.

“You feel so fucking good baby. Go ahead and cum,” Hobi kissed you again “Cum for Daddy, come on” He quickened his pace as he felt your tight walls begin to twitch around his cock. He could hear your wetness as he pistons into you under your breathless screams.

“I’m gonna cum Daddy..I..I..” Your eyes were clenched close as you let out a high pitched scream, your hot arousal dripping all over Hobi’s cock as your walls squeezed him tight. He bucked his hips as you came, groaning as he tried to fuck you through it.

“Shit.” Hobi cursed under his breath as he felt himself come undone immediately after, his sticky cum shooting deep inside of you. “God that was so good” He sighed, landing a lazy kiss on your lips.

You sighed, savoring the small aftershocks of arousal that had you trembling in his embrace. Enjoying the final momentary pleasure before the wild night ahead of you.

Jimin stood outside the banquet hall and tightened his tie. There were only a few more minutes until his album officially came out. Fixing loose strands of his hair, he sighed. He wanted you by his side but you were no where to be seen.

“Jiminnnn” The pitch of your voice gave you away easily. Jimin glowed in anticipation of you. His heart stopped as you arose from the hallway. You looked absolutely stunning in a classy sleeveless pantsuit.

“Baby” You giggled. Jimin frowned slightly, noticing how you stumbled into his arms before giving you a peck on the lips. “Are you excitedddd?” You slurred your words. “Everyone’s gonna loveeeee your music”

He inhaled your scent, scrunching his nose as he recognized the stench of whiskey on your breath. “Baby. You’re drunk”

“Come onnnnn, everyone is waiting for you at the party” You tugged at his tie. Jimin sighed, he couldn’t help but surrender to your cuteness despite his gut telling him not to bring you there.

“Jimin...this is my dream.” You giggled, almost losing your balance before Jimin caught you into his arms. “I’m Park Jimin’s girlfriendddd” Jimin dragged you outside slowly, sheepishly bowing to the other people who began giving the pair of you dirty looks. “Hey!” You yelled suddenly, “I’m Park Jimin’s girlfriend! I love him!”

Jimin’s heart skipped a beat. “You...what?” He began trembling, an overwhelming flush of emotions seizing him. “Really?”

You nodded, a big teethy smile on your face. Jimin blushed. “I...” She’s just drunk. He sighed. “Come on baby” He wrapped his arm around your waist, leading you down to the banquet hall.

The venue was gorgeous. It had a red and black theme that matched Jimin’s album cover. Champagne was being served at every nook and corner. The room broke out into applause as Jimin walked in, you glued to his side.

Jimin’s eyes scanned the room looking for Yoongi. He was no where to be seen.

Jimin waved to his guests, thanking them for the cheer before he turned to you. He stroked your face, gazing into your glittering eyes with nothing but adoration. He felt his eyes tear up as the thought occured to him that maybe it really was you.

He had written so many baseless love songs, songs about yearning, song about searching for someone to make his life worth it again. Maybe it was you. Were you his happy ending?

His mind wandered to what could be. What might be if he marries you, you go on tour together, making love in every city over the world. You would be his biggest fan, his lifeline, and he would love you endlessly. He wanted that. So bad. Did you?

He twirled you around before dipping you down princess style and kissing you passionately. The room burst into cheers as you smiled into one another.

“Sir” One of the staff members tapped on Jimin’s shoulder urgently, “Sorry to interrupt, there’s something you should know” The staff member leaned in to whisper something into Jimin’s ear. You watched as his eyes went wide with shock.

“I...I need to go. Excuse me” Jimin pardoned himself from the crowd, rushing out of the banquet hall. You followed him.

“Jimin! What is it? What happened?” You held onto his arm.

“He’s dead” Jimin muttered, “Fuck. SHIT. He’s dead”

Your heart dropped. “Who...?”

“Taehyung. Taehyung is dead”

ᐊ——[ previous ] series navi | masterlist | [ next ]——ᐅ

a/n: i hope this makes up for how shitty part 6 was ahahaha. gosh i must have rewritten this like 4 times. but yeah drop those theories in my asks bbs <3 who killed tae? where’s yoongi? what’s jin up to? joon and kook will be back in action in part 8, next week dw ;)

also that detail abt jin not listing you fucking taehyung when he’s spanking you is intentional

taglist: @imluckybitches @gee-nee @missseoulite @hcneybees @kooookie @queenmasterxx @crustycaitlin @virgo-and-libra @un2-verse @winter-melontea @equivocacies @infernal-alpaca @shrimpmsg @meowmeowyoongles @rjsmochii @liltangerined @littlrmills14-blog @issysor @arandomblackgirl @adoringinsanity @giadalin @jeontier @kaithezaftig @jinssexytoe @nonnis97@minyoongiboongi @happygirl62304 @just-me-and-myselfs @purplepebbles @channiespup @lilacdreams-00 @kianam @thmrdrs @kpoppin-mel @namjooningelsewhere @lolzerss @planetsope @ohmykim @xyahrinx

606 notes · View notes

whentommymetalfie · 3 years ago

Text

Home to you -chapter 5

-Closer-

Prologue//1//2//3/4

Pairing: Tommy/Alfie

Summary: Tommy and Alfie both want to take things further. But it turns out, things might be more complicated than simply wanting.

Warnings: mental instability, hallucinations, self harm, self-hatred, ptsd, panic attacks, disordered eating

Content note: sexual content

Wordcount: 3,7

Tommy wakes up with led in his veins, head too heavy to lift from the pillow and confused about his whereabouts. The warmth of a hand on top of his head tells him he’s not alone, at least. It prompts him to squeeze his eyes open just a fraction to observe the world through his lashes. Alfie’s sat next to him, paper in his lap and with his glasses balancing low on his nose as he thumbs the pages with one hand, combing gently through Tommy’s hair with the other. Tommy stays completely still. Wants to stay in this moment, sink back into sleep and hide from the memories of the past night before they fully catch up with him. His right palm throbs dully and he clutches it against his chest, willing away the feeling of glass digging into fragile skin. He squeezes his eyes shut. Wants to stay in the warm safety of here and now, with Alfie, in bed, with Alfie’s fingers in his hair. Far away from the coppery smell of blood and the voices echoing between the tiles.

“It’s so easy, Tom, so easy, and then you’ll get to rest.”

“It’ll never be anything more than this. What do you have to offer him? Look at you.”

and he looks and looks until he can’t bear it anymore until it’s all too much and-

“Tommy?” Alfie scratches lightly at the nape of his neck. “You awake?”

He nods, because he needs Alfie to talk, bring him out of the darkness. Like last night.

Alfie keeps stroking his hair.

“You gonna open those pretty eyes and greet the day and your companion any time soon, eh? Nearly lunchtime innit.”

He can hear in his voice that he’s smiling. And he wants to see that, so he opens one eye to peer up at Alfie. Who is indeed smiling down at him. Tommy curls up impossibly closer, as if he could fully melt into him, face pressed into his soft side. Alfie flinches when his nose digs into a ticklish spot and lets out an indignant snort, but then continues petting him with a fond chuckle.

“Just a little kitten, aren’t you, petal? Yeah. Bet you’ll start purring one of these days.”

Tommy ignores the comment and drags in Alfie’s familiar scent into his nose.

“How’re your hands feeling?” Alfie asks. “You in much pain”

“It’s not too bad,” he mutters into his shirt.

With an unconvinced hum, Alfie takes his hand gently and presses his lips against the back, just softly, continuing over his knuckles, up his fingers and down the inside of them, featherlight over his bandaged palm, until he can kiss the inside of his wrist. Which sends a thrill of pleasure up Tommy’s spine.

Then, Alfie leans down and kisses him. It brings out different memories altogether from last night. Alfie kissed him then too. Lifted him up onto a counter and kissed him until his head was swimming. He sinks into that feeling now, happily following where Alfie leads.

The steps approaching outside makes Tommy pull away, but Esther just passes. He looks towards the door, unable to relax. Esther has certainly seen him in more compromising positions. But still---

Taking his chin lightly in hand, Alfie turns him away from the door and smiles again before pressing another kiss against his lips.

When the steps approach a second time, this time accompanied by low humming, Alfie relents.

“How about we pick this up later tonight,” he whispers into the hot air between them. “When we know we won’t be disturbed. And I can take care of you good and proper.”

The words light a warm feeling in the pit of his stomach, his chest, and fluttering and fragile as it may be, it’s definitely real. So much so that Tommy finds his lips twitching into a smile as he whispers, “Is that a promise?”

Alfie chuckles, low and dark and the way his eyes light up makes Tommy wish he could find more enticing things to say, anything to keep that expression on his face always.

“Indeed it is, love.”

…

The day passes impossibly slowly. Alfie helps him stick to the usual routine, the firm schedule of eating, walking, resting, doing a crossword or two, followed by the usual afternoon nap. The one Tommy swears he doesn’t need but still always ends up taking sometime in the afternoon, cuddled up against Alfie’s chest in front of the fire as he reads, when the ever present weariness overcomes him.

It’s easy enough to fall into the familiar pattern, even if he can’t stop counting the hours until sundown, for once feeling something other than dread at the thought of going to bed. Everything makes him think of it: Alfie’s hands lingering after he’s helped him with his coat. The soft brushing of lips against his forehead as he dozes off in the afternoon. The firm warmth of an arm around his waist during the walk. Little things that remind him. He clings to those, to keep his head quiet. Tell the voices that no, Alfie doesn’t find him repulsive, Alfie likes touching him, Alfie doesn’t look at him and see something ugly and broken. It helps a little. Even if they’re not silent for long.

…

Despite what happened last night, Alfie lets Tommy take a bath on his own, that evening. Not without fussing first, and not with the door locked. And as Tommy reclines against the cool porcelain, all the anticipation that’s been building throughout the day seems to vibrate through him. Despite the heat of the water he trembles, and he tries to force himself to relax without much success. He glances towards the mirror. Where it used to hang, at least, the empty space above the sink. The bones inside of him seem to poke through his skin, bruising his insides and he can’t find a comfortable position. He wishes he could lay down completely, sink underneath the surface until the water makes him weightless and takes the pressure from his bones, but the mere thought of being under the surface makes his throat constrict in panic. Instead he sits up. Draws his legs towards his chest and stares at his bruised knees. Scratches hard over the place where the bone sits too close to the skin.

Alfie asked, last night, if he’d been trying to hurt himself. More than you already had, that’s what he said. Tommy doesn’t know. If Alfie hadn’t showed up when he did, to shield him from the ghosts and pry away the sharp piece of glass from his hand… he doesn’t know what would’ve happened.

The thought scares him enough to stop scratching at his knee and put his legs back down, hiding the thin trail of blood left by his nail.

Eventually he climbs out of the cooling bathwater. It’s a small mercy, not seeing his reflection. But it’s not enough. And they still remind him, even when he can’t see himself, they tell him, won’t let him forget-

He dries himself off and puts on the large flannel shirt, burying himself in the safe scent and the soft warm fabric. Pulls his underwear on and makes sure the long sleeves on the shirt cover his hands, cover as much of him as possible.

When he emerges from the bathroom on legs that still feel unsteady, Alfie is sat on the bed, glasses in place and with a book on his lap. The scene exudes safety and familiarity. He looks up when the door swings shut. Something dark and hungry seeps into his gaze, and it makes Tommy stop in his tracks, a shiver running down his spine under the intensity. He must be looking like a deer in headlights. Feels like one, at least, frozen and helpless.

“Come here, love,” Alfie says, beckoning him over with an outstretched hand. The hand is unnecessary because the command in his voice is enough to physically pull Tommy towards him. The book lies forgotten on the bed and when he’s close enough, Alfie grabs him by the waist and pulls him down onto his lap and into a kiss. It’s surprisingly gentle at first, but Tommy eagerly parts his lips and soon it becomes deeper, hungrier. Alfie kisses him like no one’s ever kissed him before. So self-assured and firm, taking the lead and making him follow. And he gives into it completely, desperate for more.

In a swift movement, Alfie spins them around, leaving Tommy laid out under him on the mattress, legs around his waist. A surge of heat rushes into the pit of his stomach, making his hips buck up against Alfie’s solid frame. Already gasping and aching for it.

“If you want me to stop or slow down, you just let me know, alright, pet?” Alfie says, pulling away just enough to look him in the eye. “Yeah? Just say the word. Or give me a poke in the shoulder if that’s too difficult. But other than that all you need to do is relax. I’ll take care of you.”

Tommy nods and sinks into the feeling of relief. Alfie’s got this. Alfie knows what he’s doing, even if Tommy himself suddenly feels like a blushing virgin all over again. Alfie flashes him a grin and plants a quick kiss on his nose. “Alright then.”

And take care of him, he does. Begins by kissing him on every inch of bare skin he can reach, the sharp edge of his cheekbone, his temple, trailing his lips down his jaw, stopping right at where his pulse throbs to scratch his teeth gently against the skin. It sends a pleasant shiver down his spine and Alfie must be able to tell because he lingers on the spot, sucking a mark onto the skin before moving further, down to where his collarbones peak above the shirt. His hands meanwhile are stroking down his sides, his hips and thighs, leaving burning trails behind. Lighting a dizzying arousal that collects in the pit of his stomach, burning hot and all consuming.

Tommy’s own hands are buried in the back of Alfie’s shirt. Eventually he works up the courage to tug it up towards his shoulders. Alfie sits back between his legs. Pulls the shirt off and smiles down at Tommy when he reaches out to touch, running his hands down his hairy chest, solid muscle and the swell of his stomach. If he could, he would’ve told him, how beautiful he is, how much he wants him, how much he wants this. Instead he pulls him closer, tries to show him. Needs to have that powerful body fully pressed against him, needs all of him at once-

Alfie is so warm and heavy on top of him when he kisses him again, cock hard and straining against his boxers, pressing against Tommy’s hip. Tommy wraps his arms tight, tight around his chest and just clings to him while Alfie’s tongue laps against the roof of his mouth, entwining with his own, setting the pace. He drinks in the kisses eagerly, desperately wanting more, more- His hips buck, searching for friction any way they can.

When Alfie’s hand finally trails up the inside of his shirt, tension ripples through his muscles like icy water. The hand stops and Alfie raises both eyebrows in a silent question. One Tommy knew would come but still doesn’t know how to respond to.

Alfie’s seen him in less clothes before. But so many of those times he was too far gone to even reflect on it. Now he’s painfully aware of his own body again. And Alfie is right, he doesn’t believe him when he says he’s beautiful. Only thinks of that scrawny figure in the reflection. He hides his face against Alfie’s chest. Alfie strokes his side gently. Each time a finger dips into the hollow spots between the ribs he feels his stomach turns into knots.

How can he let Alfie see, when he knows what he’s become?

“How could anyone want you? Look at you-“

Look at you

Alfie wouldn’t

Look at you

“There must be something you can do?” Lizzie’s voice is sharp and demanding as she speaks to the shadows looming over his bed. “Look at him, he’s wasting away.”

Wasting away locked away forgotten in this room

“The only option is to feed him more often, but-“

They keep talking over him and he wonders if he’s really here at all

“-considering his aversion to it that might have a negative effect on his wellbeing overall, I’m afraid.”

In this room

Where the door is always closed

And no one touches him except the men in the white shirts with their tubes and their cold hands and all the dark figures who try to keep him still and he’s wasting away nothing but a black hole

Cold mud

Pushing the air from his chest filling all the empty crevices-

No one can stand touching him.

“Shh, treacle, ‘s okay.” Alfie’s voice emerges from the chorus of others, whispered against his ear. “You’re beautiful. Let me show you. Let me take care of you”

He desperately tries to ignore the snide remarks that follow Alfie’s softly spoken words, things that echo in his own head, that’s all, not real. This is real, Alfie’s voice, Alfie’s body against his-

Alfie kisses him but he can’t feel it, the scratch of his beard or the soft press of lips against his.

He tears himself away, presses his face into his chest again as he struggles to breathe. Coughs to get the mud out, has to get it out, out pushes harder into the firm surface to find an anchor, it’s cold against his forehead, cold wet dirt and the smell of earth and

blood splitting pain and wetness trickling slowly down his face

splutters and coughs and chokes as bits of mud hack up his throat.

“God, there’s nothing there Tommy! Will you just fucking listen to me?” Lizzie’s fingers can reach all the way around his wrists. “Frances, get in here!”

“Fuck-“ the weight on top of him shifts but he still can’t breathe- “Tommy?”

he struggles uselessly against the hands.

Until they disappear and footsteps echo across the floor, doors slamming, new hands, shushing, dark figures and faces he doesn’t recognize.

The room floods with warm light and Alfie’s face swims into view. He cradles his face, holds it still, but he can’t feel it, can’t feel the heat against his skin-

“It’s alright, sweetheart, breathe with me, in and out- I’ve got you.”

He’s moved, pulled closer, ear pressed against Alfie’s chest, he listens to his breaths, the steady beating of his heart. In and out. In and out, the familiar mantra.

“I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

Alfie’s got him, he’s safe. Alfie’s got him, and he’s safe, Alfie- he clings to the words with every stuttering in and exhale, until feeling slowly seeps back into his limbs again, he can feel the warmth of Alfie’s skin, the firm hold of his arms encircling his waist and cradling his head against his chest. He winces when he comes back to himself enough to remember why they’re in bed together.

“I’m s-sorry,” he chokes out. His teeth clatter together so hard that getting any words out at all is a struggle. “I don’t know why- why this is happening,”

“Shh, fuckin’ nonsense that is. Apologizing. Nothing but a bad habit. If you’re not ready, we’ll take it slower. Simple as that, eh?

He grasps desperately at Alfie, shaking fingers against firm muscle.

“No, no, I want to- I-“

“Shh, love, just you focus on breathing and leave the talking to me. Sometimes your head knows it’s wants something but the rest can’t quite keep up,” Alfie says and rocks him slowly in his arms. “The opposite ‘s true too, I reckon. But I’m nothing if not persistent, so I promise we’ll figure it out. Don’t you worry your pretty little head ‘bout it.”

He presses his nose into the crook of Alfie’s neck and sinks into his embrace.

Alfie begins rubbing his back slowly. The hand moves up along his waist, outside of the shirt this time. He stays in one place. Rubbing warm circles into the skin. Tommy forgets to breathe.

“Relax, pet. ‘s nothing dangerous, this. I’m keeping it right here, see? Does that feel okay?”

The thin barrier the shirt provides helps somewhat. He nods. And as he gets used to the sensation the worst of the terror it caused before fades, at least enough for him to relax.

“There you go. Doing wonderfully, aren’t you?” Alfie moves his hand further down to his waist, caresses all the way to his hipbone and up again. Over and over. “Yeah, you’re doing so good, sweetheart. Just relax. It’s all fine.”

And as the adrenaline seeps out of his veins, his eyelids become heavy. Alfie keeps stroking him, lingering in each spot for a long time. And before he can even feel himself slipping, he’s asleep.

…

For once it’s not a nightmare that wakes him, but Alfie tossing and turning in bed next to him. By now Tommy’s instincts have him reaching for Alfie already in his sleep, so once he drags himself out of it he’s already firmly pressed against him, face buried in the crook of his neck and one arm wrapped around his bare chest. He drags his scent into his nose. Reassures himself that he’s safe. Not alone. Never alone again. And he’s already sinking back into sleep when Alfie lets out a grunt into his hair and presses closer. He’s hard, the outline of his cock pressing into Tommy’s thigh, thick and straining against his boxers. The feeling sends a sharp spike of arousal to the pit of his stomach. He lies frozen, barely daring to breathe. Alfie’s arm is tight around his waist, keeping him firmly pressed against him. His hips roll forward, making Tommy’s heart jump. Heat floods through him, pooling in his groin, and he presses his thigh harder against Alfie, can’t resist. Fuck, he’s so big. It’s a thing he never knew he’d find so arousing: the feeling of a big, hard cock pressing into him. Now, the reaction is so strong it almost frightens him.

Alfie’s arm tightens around his waist and another moan escapes him, hot and raspy against Tommy’s ear. His own cock quickly becomes achingly hard and he swallows down the urge to shove a hand down his shorts and touch himself. Or turn around. Rub himself against Alfie until- oh fuck-

Alfie suddenly jolts awake, unsuccessfully attempting to untangle himself from both the blankets and his own grip around Tommy all at once. He looks blearily around the room before setting his eyes on him, half closed and with a confused crease between his eyebrows.

“Fuck, sorry ‘bout that, love” he slurs. Gestures awkwardly downwards as he relaxes back against the pillows. “Don’t pay any attention to it-“

He clears his throat and once again shifts to pull away. Tommy kisses him. Surges forward and crashes his lips against Alfie’s, clumsy with need, tongues and teeth clashing as Alfie kisses him back with equal fervor. He tugs at the thick arm around his waist and Alfie rolls them over, settling his entire weight on top of him. Tommy spreads his legs, grinds up against him and whimpering at the feeling.

Alfie stills for only a second, but he squeezes his thighs tighter around his hips.

“Don’t stop,” he whispers against his lips and with a growl, Alfie thrusts forward, rubbing his stiff cock against Tommy’s. He moans, open mouthed and desperate against Alfie’s lips.

Then they’re moving frantically together, Alfie’s hands digging into his arse to push him closer, grinding down against him, hard and unforgiving. Pinning him against the mattress with his entire weight. Tommy rolls his hips, heels digging into the backs of Alfie’s thighs, desperately chasing friction and fuck, fuck, he’s so close already- it’s all too much, and not enough, Alfie’s cock, hard and thick under the thin fabric of his boxers, the soft ,heavy press of his stomach, he writhes against the heat and the firm pressure of muscle and flesh, close- so fucking close now-

“Oh, oh Alfie-“ he keens and the release washes over him in sharp waves of pleasure, quick and relentless and absolutely brutal, he’s crying out, voice cracking into sobs and Alfie doesn’t stop moving, chasing his own pleasure against his over sensitized cock.

“Fuck, Tommy-“ he groans into an open mouthed kiss. “Fuck, that’s so good, love. Fucking hell-“ his hips push harder and faster until they stutter. He pushes his face into the crock of Tommy’s neck, hands painfully tight around his arse as he comes, shuddering through his release. Then he collapses on top of him, breath hot against his neck.

A warm stillness settles in the room, where only their breaths are heard. Tommy’s head is full of cotton, muffling all the noise, softening it. Eventually Alfie raises himself up on his elbows and lets out a chuckle.

“Fucking hell, love. Not exactly how I’d pictured it, bedding you for the first time. Thought’ I’d be more of a gentleman about it.” He brushes away a sweaty lock of hair from Tommy’s brow and smiles. “But I’ve always believed in doing what comes naturally. I promise to take better care of you in the future. Do it properly.”

Tommy knows he’s blushing and the cotton makes it impossible to come up with any words. Alfie rolls over onto his side to tuck him against his chest. He’s shivering for some reason.

“But perhaps some drowsy, half-asleep rutting was just what we needed, eh? Just to blow off some steam. And can I just say that you make for quite a sight when you- Fuck, sweetheart, you’re shaking.”

Alfie rubs his back and pulls the blankets up higher around him, tucking them around his face and wherever he can reach.

“You alright, love?”

Tommy hums, even if his teeth clatter together and every breath hacks its way up his throat. Because Alfie is here and Alfie holds him and keeps him safe.

And he’s alright. At least in that moment.

#tommy x alfie #breathe again verse #home to you #peaky blinders fanfiction #disordered eating tw #panic attacks tw #hallucinations tw #ptsd tw #self harm tw #I don't even know what to say it's here it's posted #it is what it is

47 notes · View notes

maladaptiv3 · 4 years ago

Text

Sunflower, Vol. 6

Content: the long awaited part 2 to good fit...and an homage to my other favorite man

Warnings: swearing, smut, I get in my feels at one point (lmao)

Word Count: 2,036

sorry it has been so long since I posted! i hope this makes up for the absence...

read part 1 here

*original content by colsonbakes*

You groaned at the sound of your alarm. The phone screen was bright and stung your sleep laced eyes. You felt a familiar arm snake around your waist as you were scrolling through all the emails you managed to miss throughout the night. He pulled your closer to him, nuzzling your neck, tickling you with his bed head. He lightly kissed the back of your shoulders, feathering kisses along your exposed skin. You leaned back against his chest, “Colson, I have to get up. I can’t be late again.” You had shifted and could see the playful disappointment in his eyes. He huffed, “Come on, what’s the point of being in charge if you can’t use it to your advantage sometimes?” You shook your head and rolled your eyes, “I’m not in charge, I still have a whole board that I report to.” He knew your work was important to you and this wasn’t a disagreement he was going to win, no matter how hard he tried, “Fine. Leave me, I guess.” He pressed a long kiss to your lips and you felt his lashes flutter against your cheek. You tapped the tip of his nose with your finger, “Don't pout. Why don’t you come over after I get off work? I don’t think I have to work late.” He propped himself up on his elbows, “Your place?” You shook your head at him, confused, “Yes, my place. Is that a problem?” He reached out beckoning you to come back to bed, once again, “You always stay here. This is like the fifth night you’ve stayed here this week.” You giggled as you made your way to the bathroom, “You have a better shower than me.” You could hear Colson shout from the bedroom as you splashed your face with cold water, “Oh yeah, I'm sure that's why."

He did have a better shower, but you had also developed this sort of routine. A nice, safe routine that finally felt organic. For so many past relationships there had always been something forced. Whether it was pretending to laugh at his friends or the fact he always had to be the smartest in the room. There was something different about the time you had spent with Colson. He was a comfort you thought you would never have. A slight smile crept across your face every time he absentmindedly drummed a beat with his fingers. The soft snores that filled the air as you typed into the early hours of the morning soon became your favorite song. His touch simultaneously melted your heart and left lines of fire on your skin. You felt everything all at once with Colson, in a good way. You wanted to wrap yourself up in the way he made you feel and just exist in that feeling forever. You wanted to exist with him forever.

You were jolted from your thoughts by Colson’s bare feet padding across the ice-like bathroom floor. You jumped slightly and he took notice, “Someone’s jumpy.” You continued to run your brush through your hair, “I’m not jumpy, I was just lost in thought.” He stood behind you, you looked up at him through his reflection. He placed his hands on your shoulders, giving them a light squeeze before running his fingers down your arms, “What are you thinking about?” You gave him an innocent look, “Nothing.” He turned you around to face him placing his hands on the counter on each side of you. He lightly pressed his body against yours, “Oh come on, I know you better than that. You’re never just thinking about nothing.” You wrapped your arms around his bare torso and buried your head in his chest, “Don’t laugh.” He wiggled out of your grip so he could look at you, “Why would I laugh?” You could feel the heat in your cheeks, “I’m just thinking about how happy I am.” His angular features seemed to soften, “Why would I laugh at that?” You shrugged, his gaze burning a hole through you, “I don’t know, it’s cheesy.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead and you felt your heart flutter, “I like cheesy.” You couldn’t figure out why but you wanted to cry, it was almost out of relief. You cleared your throat, trying to hide your emotion, “I gotta get ready for work.” He stepped to the side letting you get on with your routine, “I’ll come over later.” You just shook your head as you pulled your sweater over your shoulders.

It was nearly eight before you had managed to find your way home. You felt bad for telling Colson that you weren’t working late then sending your normal, “still at the office. x” text. He was always very understanding, probably because you extended the same sentiment whenever he had a late night in the studio or a longer than usual rehearsal. You fumbled with your lock bracing yourself for the probably now dead plants you had neglected while at Colson’s. You tried to close your door quietly when you noticed Colson sprawled out on your way-to-small-for-him couch. His arms were crossed and his head was leaning back against the wall. His nose twitched a little whenever the cool air from the ceiling fan passed across his face. You walked over to him and slightly shook his foot, you didn’t want to scare him. You whispered, “Colson.” He groaned, pretending not to wake up. You sat down next to him and blew in his year, “Baby, wake up.” He playfully swatted at you keeping his eyes closed. You rolled your eyes, “Come on, scarecrow I’m hungry.” His eyes shot open and his jaw dropped, pretending to be offended, “You know I hate it when you call me scarecrow.” You laughed, pleased with yourself, “It got your attention though.” He pressed his lips against yours and you hummed. He stood up and stretched his arms above his head, “How was your day?” You swept your hair up into a messy bun on the top of your head, “It was fine, just a lot of work. I’m tired.” He pulled you up off the couch, “And hungry?” You nodded, “And hungry.”

The two of you crossed the room to your tiny kitchen. You shuffled your playlist and let it play lowly over the speaker that lived on your counter. You started rifling through your fridge, “You know, I don’t really have anything. I haven’t been home in like a week.” Colson set two packs of ramen on the counter, “Looks like it’s a noodle night.” You began to sway to the soft melody of Champagne Supernova as you filled a pot with water. Colson placed his hands on your hips and began to sway with you. You set the pot down on the counter as he spun you around on the cold tile floor. You pressed up on your toes and wrapped your arms around his neck, pretending you could reach it without him slightly bending down. He slightly crouched down and pressed his lips against your ear and softly sang along, “A dreamer dreams she never dies.” You echoed back, “Slowly walking down the hall.” He slowly pressed his lips against yours before turning you around, your back meeting his chest. You stayed like that for a few minutes before turning back around to meet his lips. You were lost in each other, limbs tangling together while Harry Styles started to play in the background. Colson lifted you onto the cold kitchen counter. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to you, “You know, I’m not that hungry anymore.” He pressed a chaste kiss to your jaw, “Yeah, me either.” The music was still playing in the background, “Kiss in the kitchen like it’s a dance floor…”

Colson slid your sweater off your shoulders as you pulled the hem of his shirt over his head. His shirt, soon joined by yours, in a heap on the floor next to you. You both reached for each other’s waistbands. Colson took hold of your wrists and pressed your hands against the kitchen counter, sucking lightly on your collarbone. You slightly lifted your hips to make it easier for your jeans to slide down your thighs. Colson trailed wet kisses until he met your hip bone, his calloused fingers pressing into the soft skin of your inner thigh. His hot breath wafted over you and you shivered in anticipation. You tried closing your legs around him but he met your knee harshly with the palm of his hand. Your breath was uneven and you were almost too frustrated with his slow actions to enjoy anything. Your fingers found his messy locks and you pushed them off his damp forehead, fingers lacing with the blonde strands. You breathed out his name as your hand found his chin, urging him to come up and meet your lips. Your lips pressed together feverishly like you had been deprived of his touch for too long, a whole 12 hours.

Colson wrapped one arm around your back and the other around your hip. He lifted you off the counter, nearly tripping over the pile of discarded clothes on the way, found his way to your bedroom. You sat on the bed as he stood above you, his icy blue eyes now dark with need. You shoved his jeans down his thighs until they pooled at his ankles. He kicked them to the side as he moved to hover over you. You slightly leaned up pressing a kiss to his chest as you took him in your hand. He pressed his lips to yours, moaning into your mouth as you began to slowly move your hand up and down his length. He breathed against your neck, “Not like this.” You repositioned yourself farther up on your bed, your head slightly propped up by pillows. He followed your movements. You stroked his cheek with your thumb, “I love you so much.” He pressed a kiss to the palm of your hand, “I love you.” Colson’s head dropped into the crook of your neck as he slowly pushed into you. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, frozen in time for a minute, taking in the intimacy. You connected your lips to his, “You can move, ya know.” He stifled a small laugh, “Right.” He slowly circled his hips, it was deliciously agonizing. You could feel your stomach tighten as a heat rose within you. You could barely choke out a word, “More.” He quickly obliged, his rhythm picking up, becoming more erratic. You could tell he was close as his thrusts become short and sporadic. His words were breathy, “God, fuck.” You dug your heels into the back of his thighs, burying him deeper than he already was. A look of concern spread over his face, “I’m gonna…” You cut him off mid-sentence crashing your lips into his, squeezing your eyes shut.

He collapsed on top of you. His sweaty forehead was sticky against your bare chest. You raked your fingers through his hair as he took your fingers in his hand, dancing along your fingertips with his. You basked in the afterglow until your breath steadied. You could stay like this forever, you wanted to stay like this forever. You closed your eyes, Colson shifting so that all of his weight was no longer on you. Your bare legs intertwined, the cool night air from your open window washing over your bare skin. Goosebumps erupted everywhere as he traced small circles on your hip. This was a perfect moment. Your comfortable silence was broken when Colson’s shrill ringtone started playing from the other room, “I’m gonna let it go to voicemail.” You just nodded. His phone rang again, he huffed in annoyance, “I guess I'll get it.” You could hear his tone shift into confusion and panic. You shouted out, “Everything okay out there?” He trudged, standing in the doorway, “We forgot to pick Pete up from the airport.” You scrunched your brows in confusion, “I thought he didn’t land until like almost ten.” Colson pointed to the analog clock sitting on your dresser, “It’s almost ten.” “Shit.”

Part 3? Maybe?

#colson baker #colson baker imagine #colson baker smut #colson baker fanfic #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly fanfic #machine gun kelly imagine #machine gun kelly smut #machine gun kelly fluff #mgk #mgk fanfic #mgk imagine #mgk oneshot #mgk smut

207 notes · View notes

forever-rogue · 5 years ago

Text

Honey & Velvet - Part 8

A/N: Maxwell fuckers - rejoice. Here ya go. I hope you enjoy ;) I’m not gonna lie in my head I drew some inspiration from that scene in Narcos. Y’all know the one. If you’d like to be tagged, please let me know, and as always, feedback and comments are always welcome! xx

Pairing: Maxwell Lord x Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: sex, mostly sex, so yeah 18+ (aka mostly porn with little plot)

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

“It’s a promise.”

“And just what would you do to me?” you wiped the reminder of your spit from your chin, glancing at your reflection in the mirror over his shoulder. You tried to fix what was left of your lipstick, but it was no use. It was gone to hell, just like you were sure that your soul would be too after what you had just done. And surely would be doing soon enough, “how would you have your way?”

You hopped up and propped yourself up on the edge of his desk, leaning forward just so your breasts were pushed towards him. A dangerous little smirk crossed his features as he stood in front of you, causing you to swallow nervously. His ring clad hand went to your throat as he squeezing lightly, just enough to create the lightest bit of pressure. It went straight to your core as you tried your best not to come completely undone then and there. You still were not willing to give into him that easily.

"Are you nervous?" he asked quietly, leaning forward so his lips were brushing against the shell of your ear. A pleasant shiver ran down your spine as your eyes fluttered closed, an inadvertent reaction to his touch. This man really did have a hold over you.

"No," it was a half lie, concocted to get you ready to deal with whatever he was going to do to you. You'd wanted this for some time now, but now that the opportunity was presented and ripe for the talking you were experiencing a bout of nerves. You cursed yourself silently as Maxwell trailed his hand up and held your cheek. It felt like his dark, almost black with desire eyes, were peering right into your soul.

"We can stop," he offered suddenly, and a panicked look crossed your features as you shook your head no. You planned this all weekend, hell you'd come over to his office in lingerie and an overcoat, there was no way you were backing out now.

You reached for the collar of his expensive looking button down, before slotting your mouth against his and kissing him with a renewed sense of urgency.

He smirked slightly against your lips as sparks of electricity seemed to jolt through your bones at the sensation of his lips on yours. There was something about kissing Maxwell that was different from anyone else. His mouth moved against yours in perfect synchronicity, his hands on your shoulders but slowly moving down to your velvet covered torso as he stare to tug on the delicate fabric.

Your hands slid to his shoulders and you moved to slip off his suit jacket, causing him to pull back momentarily as you tossed it onto the floor. You had a feeling that in most normal circumstances he would have chided you for that, but he was so lost, so drunk on your touch that he wasn't phased.

He trailed a handful of kisses down your jaw and neck, each one hungrier than the last before he stopped at the hollow of your throat, inhaling deeply. You carded a hand through his thick blond locks, trying the capture of softness and intimacy of this moment before it was gone. You had a succinct feeling that it would last much longer; not today anyway. But then again, you didn’t really know what to expect with him.

Maxwell tugged on the delicate fabric, pulling it down the expanse of your chest and letting it settle at yours hips, leaving you exposed, much more than he was. He hands went to the soft flesh of your breasts and he massaged them with his large hands, causing you to momentarily forget yourself as you tossed your head back and let out a small sound of delightful surprise. He was surprisingly reverent in his actions, gentle, as he lowered his mouth, nipping and biting at the soft skin.

But when you caught yourself and put your hands back on his shoulders, pulling him back from you, bringing a hand to his chest, “you’re wearing too much clothing.”

With slightly trembling hands, you reached for the buttons of his shirt, undoing them in a languid fashion, taking time to undo them one by one. Maxwell was watching you closely, almost in a predatory way as you finally, finally, finished and pulled it open. He tugged it off, followed by the crisp white wife beater underneath, leaving his chest bare. His skin was a golden tan, and you couldn’t help but admire it, pulling him back to you by the belt loops of his trousers. Pressing a few small kisses to his the smooth golden skin of his shoulder, you didn’t stop until you were reached his neck, marking him pointedly with your lipstick. He was yours now.

He grabbed your face, this time more gently than he had done in the past and brought your face closer to his. There was such an intensity behind his gaze that you almost couldn’t handle it; the coil in your belly was slowly tightening, already threatening to snap at any moment.

“I am not a nice man,” he insisted quietly, his voice a low timbre that spoke straight to you soul. This was a dangerous position to find yourself in, but you had wanted, craving it to a point where you were not sure you would be able to handle it much longer, “do you understand that?”

“Yes,” your response was a breathy thing, almost inaudible to your own ears. He traced his thumb along your kiss swollen bottom lip, admiring how you seemed to pout at him. Admiring the lips that had been around his cock, the lips that he’d kissed and claimed as his.

“I will not be gentle,” a small look of concern crossed his features for a moment, but any fears that he had were quickly quelled when you grabbed his wrist and slowly put two of his fingers in your mouth, sucking on them, coating them with your saliva as you refused to break eye contact with him.

“Good,” you brought his hand down to your soaked center, letting his fingers touch over your most sensitive area through the black velvet. He let out a sharp exhale as realization, even through the fabric, that you were wet, very wet, “then take me.”

Something within him snapped as he brushed everything off of his desk, beyond caring about the mess or the noise it made. Someone would clean it up later and his door was locked; he only had his eyes on you now. He looked over you for a moment before pushing you back, back, back until you were lying flat on his desk, sprawled out for him.

He tilted his head to the side as he observed you, needy and wanton under him, a large hand trailing down your body and stopping at your hips. In one foul swoop he pulled the lacy bodysuit completely off and tossed it onto the floor. A light shiver, one of pure delight and nerves ran through you as he drank you up. His hungry eyes drank up every inch, every single bare inch, of you as he spread your legs apart.

“You are perfection,” he murmured quietly as trailed his fingers gently up your thigh, stopping at the apex, the very spot where you needed him the most. He could practically feel the heat and warmth radiating off of you, and finally gave in as he ran a finger through your slick folds, “and so wet. Tell me, is all of this for me?”

“Maxwell,” you could barely manage to say his name as he lowered himself to his knees, pulling you closer to his so your soaked center was directly in front of him, “please.”

His grip on your legs was iron, vice like, as he nipped along the delicate skin of our inner thighs, making it a point to leave marks that would you would see for days, marks that would constantly remind you of him. Trying to spur him on, you raised your hips lightly, and he chuckled lightly as he put a hand on your hips to hold you still, “patience is a virtue.”

“Patience doesn’t get me off,” you huffed at him, ready to make some sort of smart remark, but Max was quick to quiet you as he put his mouth on you. Immediately you were silent, seeing nothing stars as you laid back down and gripped the sides of his desk so tightly that your knuckles were turning white.

He used his fingers in conjunction with his mouth, licking stripes up your folds, tasting very bit of you that he could. Deftly, he slid in a finger inside and your mouth opened as a small whimper, a pathetic little sound, reached his ears. You could feel him smirking against as you as he ate you out like you were his last meal, like he was a man dying of thirst. He was not shy, he was timid about getting in there and making sure you were experiencing as much pleasure as you could. Whatever he was, and he was a lot, he was a man that knew how to use his mouth. It didn’t take long for him to get you worked up, to get you close to the precipice of your pleasure as you writhed underneath him.

He added another finger, curling it and finding your sweet spot almost instantly as you closed your eyes and his name fell off your lips, a sound of both curses and salvation. Max snaked a hand up your chest as he grabbed one of your breasts and massaged it roughly, his own low moans creating a pleasant vibration against your sensitive bundle of nerves.

Your legs started to shake lightly around him as he brought you so close, that you saw nothing but haze. He pulled back for a moment, just before you could find your release and watched you with a smirk as you shot up and glared at him, your chest rising and falling rapidly, “Maxwell!”

“Hmm?” he ran the pad of his thumb lightly over your clit and you almost jumped, “are you doing to cum for me? Just like you’ve been dreaming of?”

“You’re such a bastard,” you sighed at him, but then, in a snap he was back on you, earning a small yelp of surprise from you, “fuck.”

“You’re a good girl, aren’t you?” he asked, his voice so gentle and almost...sweet, but you knew exactly how he was. This was just a little taste of bliss before he got what he wanted from you. Not that he wasn’t enjoying this as much as you; no, Maxwell Lord loved the feeling of eating a woman and feeling her squirm under him. It was just that very few women ever got the privilege of experiencing such a feat as he was picky as ever when it came to his partners. You managed to make some sort of sound in acquiescence as you came completely undone under him

A slew of curses left your lips as he working you through your orgasm, not stopping until you all but went limp under him and he made sure to lap up every last little bit of your juices, like it was the sweetest honey he had ever tasted. Only once he was thoroughly satiated did he stand up to his full height and stand over you, studying you intently.

He grabbed your hips and pulled towards him, admiring the blissed out expression on your face. Tucking a few strands of hair behind your ears, you leaned into touch, just wanted more of him. Just before he kissed you again, he whispered, “you taste even finer than the most expensive champagne.”

“Better than Dom Pérignon?” you teased as you pulled him back towards your lips, kissing him with more fervent passion as you wrapped your arms around his neck. You could taste yourself on him and that was enough to get you worked up again; the way he had made you feel like you were the only woman in the world.

“Better than the most expensive bottle of Dom Pérignon in the world,” he promised in between kisses. Growing impatient, you reached for the waistband of his pants and started to pull them down, feeling the straining in his pants. Your previous efforts had long worn off and you could tell he was growing needier, ready for more, “perhaps tonight we can go to dinner and I compare.”

“Hmm,” you mused quietly, “that sounds lovely, but I’ll have you know, Mr. Lord, that I don’t fuck on the first date.”

“Oh?” he caught your hands easily and pinned them above your head, holding them tightly together, so you couldn’t move, “then what do you call then this?”

“This?” you were practically purring at him, driving him crazier by the second, “it’s just a causal business meeting.To see if you can earn that first date.”

He made a sound, practically growled, as he pulled you off of his desk, before turning you around and bending you over the desk so you were face down on it. The wood was slick and cool under your body, but you could feel his heat radiating onto you as he stood behind you, his large hands massaging the tender skin of your bum.

“You’re such a brat, you know that?” you could hear the mixture of admiration and annoyance in his voice. That was enough to have you practically dipping again as he you could hear him tugging down his pants and briefs before hastily kicking them to the side. He loved the game, you knew he did, but he was getting impatient and wanted his prize - you.

“I don’t know anything about that,” you lied, wiggling your bum closer to him so he’d finally take the hint and give you what you needed. Gods, you were going to be the death of him, he was positive of it. He spread your legs apart and reached up to touch your still sensitive core, and gathered some of your slickness on his fingers, “don’t tease.”

“Don’t be such a brat,” his hand firmly came down on your bum, the sound and feeling of his hands bringing up a sound somewhere between a moan and a whimper as he realized that you liked it. And you did, you really did enjoy the sting of his ring clad hand coming down on sensitive skin of your backside. It was...definitely not lost on him as he repeated a few more times to see what pretty sounds he could draw out from your lips as your skin grew more and more red, “do you like getting punished? I can see you do...you’re so wet, just from that.”

“Please,” you turned to look back at him, “need you inside me.”

That seemed to break him and he quickly decided that he needed you just as much. He was surprised that he was able to hold back this long. He took his hard cock and coated it in your slick before slowly pushing in, a low moan in his throat as he relished in how perfectly you felt around him. It was even better than he had imagined. Your mouth was agape as he pushed in and you reached behind you, trying to find him, to ground yourself and find purchase in something.

A quiet fuck escaped his lips as he fully burrowed himself in you, stretching you in the most delicious ways. He stilled for a few moments before finding your hips and holding onto them so tightly that you were sure there would be finger shaped bruises there tomorrow. But you didn’t care, you didn’t care about anything but him and the moment you were lost in.

But before you could get too comfortable, he began to thrust mercilessly into you, his primal instinct taking over as you laid there, fully at his disposal. He didn’t falter, keeping a brutal pace as he slammed into you, a few curses and moans spilling forth, but the only sound in the room was the sound of his skin on ours. You wondered momentarily what anyone passing by would be thinking, but you didn’t care. Let them know. Let them know that Maxwell Lord was having you over his desk and making you feel better than anyone ever had before.

You quickly became a moaning, whimpering mess under him, reaching back and grabbing one of his hands, bringing to your breast, silently begging him for more. He fucked you like it was his only mission in life, like everything depended on it; you weren’t even sure how he had that much stamina.

Once you felt his cock start to twitch inside you, he grabbed your arms and pulled you against his chest, so your body was flush with his. One arm was draped around your chest, harshly groping at your breasts, and the way reached down and he gently circled your sensitive nub. The combined sensation of the light touch and him filling you up was enough to have you shaking, barely able to stand if it hadn’t been for him holding you up. Your release was close and turned your head to kiss him, letting your lips hit whatever bit of salty, sweaty skin you could find.

“Max,” was all that you managed as you felt your knees start to buckle under you, but he kept you firmly in his grip. His breathing was ragged and he was groaning and grunting openly, clearly as close as you were. His pace stuttered for just a moment before he gave you a few more deep thrusts and spilled into you, coating your walls with his hot seed. You were at a loss for words as your walls clenched around him and you found your second release.

But his hand never left your clit, his ministrations pulling everything and then some from you as you gripped the desk tightly. He was thoroughly enjoying watching you shake and whimper as he tried to get everything out of you that he could. He was still inside of you and you were at your breaking point, a few tears running down your cheeks from how overstimulated you were. You reached for his hand and tried to pull it away, but he wouldn’t budge a moment, until your soft little mewl of, “please, please. It’s too much,” reached his ears.

He slowly removed his hand and you let you lay on his desk, trying desperately to catch your breath. Max ran his fingers down your back, stopping at your supple backside and gently massaging the red, tender skin. He was surprisingly docile for a man that had just been mercilessly fucking the life out of you.

“Who knew all it would take was a good fuck to get you to be quiet?” there was a teasing quality to his voice, almost playful, but you still managed to stick up your middle finger and flip him off. He gave a short bark of laughter before slowly pulling out of you, and you sighed lightly at the now empty feeling. You could slowly feel some of his sticky cum slowly start dripping down your leg as he kept you under his gaze, “you really are exquisite, aren’t you?”

“I’ve been told that a few times before,” you slowly managed to push yourself up and positioned yourself so you sitting on his desk facing his chair. He sank down into it and put his hands on your knees, keeping your legs apart as he watched your combined wetness and his cum slowly dribble out, “admiring your own handiwork?”

“Admiring the art,” he insisted as he leaned back in his chair. His hair was a mess, the most disheveled than you had ever seen him, but he was clearly basking in the afterglow. You reached down and gathered some of the cum on your fingers before bringing them to your mouth and cleaning them off, never taking your eyes off of him.

“I don’t think if it’s as fine as some good champagne,” you taunted, “but it’s not bad.”

“Such a little brat,” he let out a short breath of laughter, running a hand through his hair in a vain attempt to fix it.

“Don’t act like you don’t it, sir,” you grabbed his arm and pulled it away from his hair, “leave it. I like the sex hair. It suits you. Maybe you should let loose a little more often.”

“An interesting proposition,” he took your hand and slowly tugged you closer to him, so you were barely perched on the edge of the desk, “care to help?”

“Hmm,” you let your feet hit the floor with a soft thud as you stood in front of him, both of you still in your naked glory, “I don’t know. Stuffy suits are not usually my type.”

“What is your type?” his hands were on your hips, fingers tracing shapes over the area where small blue and purple marks were already welling up. He pulled you closer to him and before you knew what you were doing, before you could consciously consider your actions, you were straddling his lap and sinking back down on his already cock, which was already hard again. You really did have a hold over him.

“Just one stuffy suit,” you admitted, letting out a soft mewl as your hands found their grip on his broad shoulders, “he’s an asshole, kind of a jerk, shamelessly stares at my tits, wears suits from last season, but for some reason he’s been on my mind a lot lately.”

“He doesn’t sound so bad then,” he pulled you against his chest as he slowly thrust into you, his lips finding ours as he kissed you lightly, “if he’s earned your affections.”

“Either that,” you practically moaned into his mouth as you fisted a hand in his hair, bringing his head down to your chest, “or I have horrible taste in men.”

“And yet here you are,” he massaged one breast with his large hand, using his mouth on the other as you moved up yourself up and down on his cock, “in my lap with my cock buried inside of you.”

“You are definitely taking me to dinner after this,” you gasped slightly he bit at your pert nipple. He slid his hands up your sides before bringing them to rest on either of your face. He seemed to study you for a few minutes before brushing your hair back and pulling in for you a kiss. This was so different from how merciless he was earlier, a welcome change of softness, “champagne and all.”

“You’ll get the finest champagne money can buy,” he promised as you sighed contently. Before he could totally melt into his soft side, he gripped your throat and pressed lightly on your marked up skin, “now tell me, little brat, who do you belong to?”

“You,” you breathed into his ear, “I’m yours, Maxwell.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

Permanent Taglist: @jamesbarnesappreciationsociety @yourealegendroger @thesecondlastjedi @bitemerog @rogernroll @secretsweetscollectionblog @sheridans-dynamos @dinkiplier @starrystarrybabe @onexlittlespark @benhardyseyes @marvelstuck @whenthe-smokeisinyoureyes @wonderwich @a-kind-of-magik @lv7867 @itissnowingandimstuckinside @dessert-hardy @rogertaylors-lipgloss @rogerfxckingtaylor @queenbbarnes @drowseoftaylor @persephonesnebula @mamaskillerqueen @theimpossiblehologramtree @loveandbeloved29 @meddows-rose @onceitbubbles @wonderwoman292 @moondustmemories @spacedustmazzello @queenlover05 @ah-callie @blushingwueen @thisis-theway @el-lizzie @rosetophighlander @rae-gar-targaryen @lavenderl3mons-deactivated20200 @hiscyarika @readsalot73 @huliabitch @ollyoxenfrees @coffeeandtodd @beepbeepsephy @gooddaykate @scarlettwitcher @nerdyknightwritersblog @choicesarcade @arrowswithwifi @everythingaboutnothingstuff @24kgolden @suckerfor-fanfics

Max Taglist: @pedrosdoll @pascalisperfect @cosmo-bear @halefirewarrior @irishleesh93 @nadia-rosea @longitud-de-onda @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @thesadvampire @thesadvampire @choicesarcade @avengingangelsoulofmusic @24kgolden @hystericalmedicine @whiskeyxinxaxteacup @ladamari68 @jawabear @bonkybaaarnes @gamingaquarius @absurdthirst

#maxwell lord #maxwell lord x reader #max lord #max lord x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #ww84 #ww84 fanfiction #honey & velvet

269 notes · View notes

heartbreakgrill · 4 years ago

Text

Serious; Luke Hemmings (Pt. 2)

a/n: I have so much drama in my heart❤️

description: he came with the fall of the leaves and left with winter cold. maybe, this time, he’d stay.

It didn’t feel like five days had passed; but they did.

Luke came each morning, every single one. The first one, a Tuesday, he was bearing coffee and donuts- your favorite flavor of each. The fact that he remembered surprised, as well as the gentle kiss he lay upon your forehead when you answered the door.

You hadn’t expected him that early- 7 am. He’d remembered you woke up at that time, too. You’d slept for nearly 12 hours, exhausted from your reunion on Monday, and already feeling the emotional distress you’d experience in a week. When he knocked, you were still in bed, having naturally woken, but snuggled up in your phone. The sheets still smelled like him, so you slept on the side in which he’d lay. It was warm when you first moved, not long after he’d left, but the heat slipped into your bones and replaced itself with the shape of the air in your apartment.

You fumbled out of bed, slipping on the forgotten socks from yesterday, a random t-shirt- his, random, Van Halen shirt- and pajama bottoms. You hastily tied your hair back as you neared the door, barely peering through the peephole before swinging it open.

He smiled softly at you, adored by the way your face was flushed and puffy, sleep in your eyes and a yawn creeping up your throat. He stepped in, hands full of a bag of donuts and a holder for two coffees. Luke stepped inside, towering over you, and kissing your forehead. You blushed, shutting the door softly as he found his place at a stool at your kitchen island.

“Good morning, sunshine,” he finally spoke.

You burned under his stare, carefully removing your coffee cup and accepting the donut he held out to you. “G’morning.”

“Did you sleep well? You fell fast in my lap,” he laughed a little bit, but his voice was gruff from obvious exhaustion.

You shrugged and sat next to him. He turned on his still to face you, knees knocking against your own. There were slits in his black jeans, allowing the white skin beneath to kiss your own. It was a simple gesture, but your heart swooned.

Why was he being so affectionate?

“Yeah, I did,” you furrowed your brows, teeth biting off a hunk of donut.

As you chewed, he replied, “Good. I’m obviously still tired. Jet lags a bitch.”

Luke watched as you ate, drank every once and again, your eyes boring into the kitchen floor and feet swinging back and forth. Your brows stayed drawn together, expression full of something he couldn’t quite reach.

“You okay?” His voice dropped in volume, stepping carefully around you.

You swallowed firmly before meeting his gaze, head turning up. “Why are you being so affectionate?”

Luke grinned at this. You automatically bit your lip, face scrunching up in a, ‘oops.’

He reached for your hand, twisting the fingers between his own. “I wanna make last year up to you. It was a shitty thing to do, when I stopped messaging back. I mean, everything I did was shitty. So I’m trying to redeem myself.”

You frowned deeply, “So it’s...pity?”

Luke suddenly looked shocked, his face that of a heartbroken puppy dog. He had changed so much; the strong, guarded heart of a rockstar had morphed into a confident, yet somewhat vulnerable sweetheart.

You firmly gripped his hand, as he stuttered. “No-no. I’m sorry it seems like that. It’s not like I’m doing this just because I feel bad. I do have feelings for you, I-“

“Feelings?” You braced yourself, a smile inching up your neck.

Luke flushed this time, the heat prickling the tips of his ears which stuck out from the hair tucked behind them. He shrugged, “Yeah. I’ve always had feelings for you and just being around you again brought them back.”

“And this time you’re not completely taken up,” you mumbled. You stood from the stool and wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

He embraced your waist, thumbs circling into your hipbones. “I’m all yours.”

“Okay,” you scrunched your noses before leaning into a kiss.

You didn’t believe him.

On Wednesday, you decided to actually go out and do something. He had to be back earlier today for an extra long sound check, because at yesterday’s show, his mic was screwed up. So, you got dressed before he was even there, messages from last night planning out your day.

He’d unblocked you on Snapchat, followed you with his private account on Instagram. Luke had sent you dozens of videos and photos from the night prior: A mirror selfie with the caption, ‘I kinda wanna do makeup onstage;’ a video of his outfit, the crowd from backstage, when he was out drinking afterwards. You sent back just as many selfies, feeling elated by the attention and affection (pretty girl, baby, heart eyes, kisses, blushing emojis.)

You were trying to grasp into the moments as best you could because you knew it would be over. Yeah, you’d talk for a month or two, and then he’d get back into the LA nightlife and fall back into step with his groupies for the rest of your. You would take what you could, knowing you could never have his entire heart.

You took Luke to private locations most tourists wouldn’t frequent: Underground coffee and record shops, trying way too many frappes and kissing foam off his lips. He wore a baseball cap, sunglasses, and an all black outfit, trying to just fit in with the rest of the crowds. At one point, someone pointed at Luke, but you watched to see him and his friend seemed to agree that it wasn’t Luke.

Your day ended at 1 pm, on the steps leading up to your apartment building. You were on the step above him, bags hanging off your wrists from the things he’d insisted on buying you. Luke had a hold on your waist, pressing kiss after kiss to your lips.

Though you were giggling, leaning in for more, you felt so out of place.

After he left, you unpacked the few things he bought you and showered. Your skin felt loose, like it was void of a brain and skeleton, yours hanging up in the closet. You scrubbed at it just to feel a little bit of stinging as if it would ground you.

It was an awful feeling, being a stranger to yourself.

But this was so unlike you.

You, adult you, mature you would turn him away and tell him to fuck off. You’d been a side chick without even knowing it until he went back home, and continued to put out for a taken man until he turned you away. And he broke your heart, telling you he couldn’t leave his girlfriend for, ‘some fling he’d had.’

Yeah, ghosting you didn’t mean he didn’t give you his two-cents before doing so.

But you were so, so lonely. And men like him came once every lifetime.

So, on Thursday, you woke up with the intentions of going to his show.

He’d texted you to let you know he couldn’t bring you coffee today because the guys were suspecting him of something. You sent back a frowning selfie in his tshirt, teasing him with skin and lips.

He came over an hour later.

Hands, hips, perfume and cologne infused into bare skin and transferring between oils and kisses.

He’d told them he was meeting a friend, even had someone to cover for him, and got out just to see you naked beneath him.

It felt good being his priority, even if it was only for three percent of his life.

When your chest returned to a normal breathing pattern, you curled into his side again, let his hands cover your back and hair, his lips your own in lazy patterns of some sleepless song. Your lips formed words now, exchanging secret dreams in the morning.

“I don’t know how you handle the fame,” you’d said after a few words exchanged about his career.

Something about guitars splintering his fingers (which you knew, you’d felt them) and being exhausted all the time, unless he was home for more than two days.

Luke huffed, “I don’t know either. I can’t even get a fucking slice of pizza without being followed.”

“I almost,” you hesitated, “I almost feel bad for you.”

His warm breath rolled over your skin and it shifted in rhythm when you said this. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” you wiggled around slightly, “I just wish you could have your career without all the crazy fans.”

“Yeah, me, too,” Luke agreed. “Don’t get me wrong, I love them. Without them, I’d have nothing. But the ones who come to the airport and follow us around and spam our inboxes on Twitter make me want to give up everything just to have a normal life.”

“I know I could never do it,” you laughed.

But the air froze. “What do you mean?”

“I,” you began and moved in his arms to look at him better, “I could never give up my privacy for fame. For anything, honestly. I wanna be able to go on dates or walk down the street without photos being taken. God, how do you even have a private relationship like that?”

Luke sat up, his arms lightly pushing you off of him. You hugged the sheets to your body, taken back by his attitude.

“So you couldn’t be in a relationship with me?”

Your brows furrowed, fingers lightly resting onto his bicep. “What?”

“You couldn’t bear all that, sacrifice all that, for me?” Lukes faze was fierce, sharp.

Luke suddenly stood, shoving on clothes and shoes in a flash. You stood, following him to the door, “Luke! Luke, what’s going on?”

Your mouth hung open, grasping for words that wouldn’t come. “I...I don’t know that you can ask that of me.”

He stopped at the front door, hand grasping the handle so that his knuckles were white. Luke turned to face you, his expression making your shoulders roll forward in vulnerability.

“What are doing this for, then? You just using me for a couple days?”

You scoffed, anger fueling confidence you wished you didn’t have. “Oh, be fucking honest to yourself, Luke. Do you really think this is going past next week? You’ll forget about me again, or you’ll suddenly tell me you’re in a relationship and my time will have been wasted. Thanks for the sex, but maybe it’s my turn to break your heart.”

“Oh, so it is just for these two weeks, then? When did you plan on telling me you didn’t want me like I want you?” Luke spat back.

You laughed sardonically, “Oh, come on! When are you going to lose the facade? Luke, we haven’t spoken in a year, and when we did speak, it was for maybe two months. You barely know a thing about me. You don’t know my mannerisms or where i even want to be in five years. But, hey! Maybe you’ll stop by again, every year, make it a fucking tradition. Come back when you’re in New York or simply when you’re horny, I’ll get you off, and you can ask me how the careers going.”

Luke went quiet. He cleared his throat, but the simple noise cracked from the tears in his eyes. “I have to go to sound check. Can we just stop this for now? Please.”

“I don’t think I can come to the show tonight,” you replied, backing away with a few steps.

Luke nodded, “I figured.”

Despite the tension, the unfinished argument, the inevitable heartbreak, you both reached for the other and embraced a tight ‘for-now’ truce. He kissed you and left.

And he came back the next day, and the next.

TAGLIST: @mantlereid , @boxofteenageideas @dinosaursandsocks , @ashhdaniellee95 @stephaniemelvie @zhangyixingxing1 @verlaneswiftie13 @kingxnichole

#5sos fanfic #5sos fluff #luke hemmings angst #luke hemmings x y/n #luke hemmings x you #luke hemmings x reader #luke hemmings fluff #luke hemmings blurb #luke hemmings imagine #luke hemmings

100 notes · View notes

impossible-rat-babies · 4 years ago

Text

first 20 lines meme

i got tagged by @coldshrugs tysm azia! tagging: @trvelyans, @zarneki, @rosykims, @forestcreatures, @starrypawz, @heartbrreak, @bitchesofostwick, @juniper-tree, @wayhavn, @pearlsandsteel, and whomever else go for it !

The challenge is to list the first lines of your 20 latest fanfics. these’ll include wips too lol there’s some vague nsft stuff below the cut--nothing truly explicit in these though

1. prompt fill wip:

Rubble digging into Pollux’s shoulder blades, a heavy dead weight across his back pressing down on him. He winces, gritting his teeth and there’s just shallow breaths, ribs pressing painfully into the ground.

2. pollux finding out fic:

Mason curses as he breaks yet another cigarette and he tosses it into the trash, yanking out the old worn packaging for another one. Hands shaking, he takes a deep breath to steady himself and it works this time.

3. more shoe string french fry biting fic:

Pollux fishes another fry out from the little package of shoe strings, chewing slowly before he speaks: “You remember when I bit you?”

Ortega groans, shoulders hunching and the hood of the car once again protests under their weight. “You’ve bitten me no less than three times, Lux.” He reminds him and Pollux chews another couple of fries and swallows.

4. bathtub fic:

Pollux sinks lower into the water and for the first time in a long while, it’s quiet.

The faucet still drips, ripples spreading out until they hit his knees and he too lets them sink beneath the water--distorted and unclear.

5. the five feet apart because they’re not (gay)

Five feet.

A foot between him and the desk, another two and a half feet of desk, and then Grayson a foot and a half away. Might as well be miles and Pollux sniffs (again) picking at his thumbnail (again).

Five minutes.

Five minutes they’ve been sitting in silence. Nick is quiet too, but there’s a buzzing of anxiety whirling and twisting on itself that Pollux isn’t sure if it’s his own or just Nick. Probably both, if he’s being honest with himself.

6. nightmare/dropping the cups fic:

it’s too late to still be awake, Ortega thinks. He should be in bed with Pollux, instead he’s picking his way around the kitchen, cleaning up the remnants of dinner neither of them bothered to deal with once they were done.

7. phone go brr fic:

it’s far too early when the distant sound of the factory standard phone chime beeps over and over again, drawing him out of sleep. The sun hasn’t even come up, Pollux squinting his eyes open to stare at the blue hour haze coming through the thin curtains.

8. pollux shaving his head panic attack rip:

4am and he’s stuck sitting on the lid of the toilet, hands shaking uncontrollably with what he knows is yet another panic attack, his upper back and diaphragm aching from the frantic breaths. It’s all muted under the sound of clippers, the buzz and the strain as he combs the blades through his curls, watching ringlet after ringlet fall to the white tiles. They’re cold beneath his bare toes and and oh god he can *feel* it—

Why do they have to be white tiles?

Cool air on the back of an open shift, shivering at the cold and indignity of it all, laying on his side and staring at the floor, large needle pressing against his lower back deeper, between vertebra and poking into his spine—

9. legit just some pwp

Pushed against the wall and Pollux gasps, Ortega’s lips immediately following to meet his again, open mouths and trying to breathe while kissing is incredibly difficult. Ortega pulls him closer and Pollux has to crane his neck to keep reaching his lips but he doesn’t mind the effort.

Pollux grasp his shirt, pulling on fancy buttons and silk to find skin, fingers running across his stomach, feeling Ortega’s breath catching.

10. don’t stop (color on the walls)

It’s a clear night out tonight, the sky an endless dome stretching miles and miles overhead out into deep inky blackness bespectacled by freckled stars.

Pollux blows a stream of smoke out of his mouth and it drifts up and up until it dissipates and he wonders if any particles of the smoke will reach that impossibly high ceiling. If they’ll touch moon perched on the roof, staring down at him with her grey blue light.

11. thigh kisses thigh kisses pollux kissing thighs (nsfw)

Hands on his belt buckle, sliding the belt through the loops and its tossed onto the floor. Pollux’s hands work at the button and zipper, sinking down to sit on the edge of the bed, knees trapping Ortega in close.

12. morning after stuff per usual lol

Pollux grumbles and grunts, hiking his pants up and over slim hips in a smooth motion, adjusting them around his waist once they’re buttoned and zipped up. His hip smarts a touch and he shift his weight from one foot to the other, rolling his ankle. It clicks like always does, his knee the same crackling as always.

13. more pwp bc. couches.

kissing a path down his erratically moving stomach and Pollux bites his trembling lip hard, head cocked at an awkward angle, shoulders pressed against the back cushion of the couch. Ortega’s hands gripping his hips, thumbs pressing into the divots of his hipbones and fuck he doesn’t think he’ll ever forget how big Ortega’s hands are, how he holds him so tightly and so assuredly.

14. the twenty questions fic im never going to finish:

“Okay question one.”

“Question one?”

“Well yeah, this is how twenty questions goes.”

Incredulous and obnoxious is how this is going. And the chair is especially uncomfortable, the stupid molded plastic thing.

Charge has refused to meet in his office, saying it was too professional of an environment to get to know someone and Pollux wonders if there’s anything professional about the man. Well, beyond the very nice (and expensive no doubt) dress shirt and slacks, but even then the sleeves are rolled up to his elbows.

15. a follow up to our reflections

Pain greets him when his eyes open and Pollux clenches his eyes shut once more, the screaming headache cut off suddenly at motions too fast for his battered brain and body. It quiets to a dull roar at the base of neck, spreading down across his shoulders with each breath.

He groans softly, but steady arms and hands find him, pulling him in close. Mason buries his face in his hair and Pollux tucks his face against his chest, hand smoothing out and across Mason’s ribs, feeling him breathe long and deep. Warmth seeping into his hand.

16. a wip i made happy without trying:

“Okay, okay now it’s your turn sweetheart. Worst fuck you’ve had.”

Pollux sighs and sits further back on Mason’s hips he’s straddled, crossing his arms and he fusses with a loose strand on his borrowed shirt. Pity that Mason is left shirtless, but he hasn’t complained yet.

“Okay fine...does it have to actually have been like, dick in...?”

“Nah.”

“Give me a minute then.”

“Wow that many?”

Pollux glances down and gives Mason a wicked glare, but the anger is tempered by the grin tugging at the corners of his lips. Mason grins back, hands running down the slope of Pollux’s back and down the curve of his thigh, fingers tucking against the back of his knees pressed against the mattress. He shivers at the motions, giving Mason a brief glance.

17. hotel california

A haze creeps around the edges of Rabbit’s mind, a steady rise back to consciousness; details escape them, the haze of drowsiness like cotton between their ears and they blink slowly in the dim yellow light. The gibberish hum of a tv turned down low on the edge of their hearing, but they know the sound of the news anywhere--the monotone of a newscaster droning

18. the “i refuse to believe adam doesn’t go down” fic + trans rights

Jamie pulls his head back when he hears Adam’s knees hit the floor, the air cool against his heated skin as he pulls his sweats down with him. Adam leans in, scattering Jamie’s hips with kisses and little marks he knows will leave behind marks. He’ll be covered in them by time they’re done and Jamie’s trembling, biting his lip and staring down at Adam.

19. another i dunno i just wanted a different perspective fic

ringing—ears ringing. sharp pain in his jaw and work out the kinks, make sure nothing is broken. Nothing is broken—he knows the pain of broken bones and this doesn’t feel like it. Nothing crunches as he moves his arms, the world rapidly spinning back into focus.

20. our reflections:

Feet stumbling over each other, Pollux’s shoulder slams into the door and he curses loudly. Pain radiates down his arm and into his ribs, scattering across his shoulder blades and ending at the headache welling across his scalp. Breath catching, pain making his diaphragm stutter but he knows this well. Pause, close his eyes, lean against the door, and take a few deep breaths to ease the tightness.

#tag meme #thank you azia im like a week late but im doing in nonetheless lol #owen writes #god i have so many wips #not counting the thousands of words sitting in other docs #pour one out for the abandoned 5k fic somewhere in my drafts

11 notes · View notes

what-is-your-plan-today · 5 years ago

Text

Riding High Ch 12: I L Y

Chapter Summary: Its Christmas…and we reach the end of a stressful year for Frank…but as he looks back he realises, it ain’t all been that bad.

Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words. Talks of SMUT but nothing major

Chapter Pairings: Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

A/N: Yeah yeah I know it’s the wrong time of year but hell, we’re all on lock down so the days and months don’t actually exist anyway at the moment… so let’s pretend its CHRISTMAS!!!

As always I’m a ho for a REBLOG and COMMENT! This is the end of Part 1 of Riding High! Thank you all for sticking with me and loving FRISS ( yeah I went there, eat your heart out Kimye…) as much as I do! Part 2 will see us jump forwards few months into 2018 and I have BIG things planned for our duo

Thank you, thank you, thank you to my wing-woman @icanfeelastormbrewing for letting me bounce the ideas, proof reading and finding me appropriate photos of our man. You can thank her the picture in the top left corner here…yeah, it made me thirsty too

Chapter Song: Fairytale of New York by the Pogues

Series Masterlist Main Masterlist

I kept them with me babe, and put them with my own. Can’t do it all alone, I built my dreams around you.

Frank looked up as Fliss walked into her parent’s kitchen and his mouth dropped open. She was dressed in a gorgeous long legged strapless jumpsuit along which the neckline was embellished with lace flowers which spread down the sheer sleeves. Her long hair was styled in loose curls and she’d done something to her make up that made her cheek bones stand out even more. Her eyelids were adorned with a deep green that shimmered and made her dark eyes pop and she had a clear gloss on her plump lips. Fuck, she looked stunning. But as he watched, he saw her face fall and she bit her lip.

“Is it…is it not ok?” she asked shyly “I can change…I mean…”

“Don’t you dare.” he said sternly, stepping forward, his hands falling to her hips “Honey, you look amazing.”

Her face lit up and she smiled at him, shyly “I wasn’t sure how posh to go or…” "Lissy…” he chuckled “Stop it.”

“Sorry.” she said, wrinkling her nose. She stepped back slightly and looked him up and down, taking in his dark jeans, boots and light denim button down. “You look pretty good too Sailor.” she smiled, running her hands up his chest to his shoulder and he noticed then she was also wearing her Pandora. He smiled back, his eyes also spotting that her neck was bare and then had the perfect idea for a final Christmas Gift he had been struggling to come up with. With a soft smile he leaned down, taking in that she was slightly taller than usual thanks to her heels and he pressed a gentle kiss to her mouth.

“Get a room…” Bill shot as he walked into the kitchen, Mary in tow.

“Bore off.” Fliss shot back, looking at her dad as he sent her a grin before he did a double take.

“Wow, you look cracking Titch.”

“Thanks” she smiled

“You ready to go?”

“Sure you don’t mind dropping us?” Frank turned to look at Bill “It’s no problem to get a cab.”

“Nonsense.” Bill smiled “I gotta pick up the Thai V has ordered anyway.”

“You’re getting Thai?” Frank raised an eyebrow and glanced at Mary “Funny that just so happens to be your favourite…”

She shrugged “Verity asked what I wanted for dinner.”

Frank sighed and looked at Bill “You spoil her.”

Bill shrugged “And?”

Frank rolled his eyes a soft smile playing on his face. The way that Bill and Verity had welcomed Mary, and him for that matter, into their lives still amazed him. Whilst he and Fliss had only been officially together four weeks or so now, they’d opened their doors to him the day they had met pretty much back in August and he was eternally grateful. Mary got a sense of family, something he had wanted her to have all her life. It had even been brought up at the Court Hearing earlier that week where the paperwork had been signed awarding him legal guardianship status, the woman from the Child services department commenting in the court room that Mary had been gushing about Bill, Verity and Fliss, and seemed extremely settled. Frank was simply relieved all of it was more or less over. The last 2 weeks had been stressful as Greg had been handling the main discussions with the state for him and when they’d sat down one night to go over the notes for the settlement they had proposed, Greg told Frank that 2 major conditions would be set. Firstly that he found a home to allow Mary a room of her own and secondly that she was given access to a higher, more challenging form of education. After a bit of discussion with Mary, who had insisted she didn’t want to go to a posh school, Greg had done a little research into previous cases and come up with a suggestion that Child Services agreed with. They would provide a scholarship grant that would allow Mary to attend a number of University classes a few days a week and then her normal school the rest. It was a middle ground, giving Mary the mental stimulation she needed but also allowing her to be a normal kid. It was agreed she would return to normal school when term started in January and the arrangements would be made with the University to start there when their term picked up the middle of the same month. Frank had insisted that she wouldn’t be taking any exams or anything like that, just doing the work, keeping herself occupied. The judge had accepted the proposal, giving Frank 6 months to find alternative living arrangements, and had then awarded the Guardianship temporarily with the instruction it be awarded permanently upon a review in 6 months. So whilst not 100% complete, it was almost there, and Frank knew that as long as he did what they said, there would be no problem. The other good thing was nothing had legally been awarded to Evelyn, after she had remained completely absent from the proceedings. Which meant that if she did reach out, Frank would have total control over where and how often contact took place. Which suited him fine as he could ensure it was on Mary’s terms completely.

“Hey…you ok?” Fliss asked, rubbing his arm. He jerked round, realising he had been completely elsewhere and gave her a smile.

“Yeah, sorry, was just thinking.”

“Did it hurt?” Mary asked and Frank shot her a look as Fliss and Bill laughed as Mary left with the drink she had come in to the kitchen for.

Frank followed her into the living room as she perched on the large sofa next to Verity, the pair of them looking at something on the laptop.

“Behave.” Frank looked at Mary. “Go to bed when V and Bill tell you, no back chat or arguing…”

She saluted him and V looked up smiling. “Stop fussing Frank, she’s never any trouble.” Frank nodded and then headed out to Bill’s Range Rover catching Fliss up.

“You do realise she’s gonna be up until midnight, pigging out on junk and watching movies right?” Fliss said as he reached her side, looping an arm round her waist.

“Yup.” Frank said “But she’s staying over there and not in the Annex, which means she’ll wake them up at stupid AM in the morning after no sleep and not us so I don’t much care…”

A little while later Frank guided her into Bongos Beach Bar and over to a booth at the far side. Fliss smiled as she recognised Greg, and Frank introduced her to his wife Zara, then his friend Jake and his fiancée Lisa. Finally she smiled at Simon who then excused himself heading off to meet his date at the door.

“Date?” Frank raised an eyebrow

“Yeah he’s been seeing her for about 3 weeks.” Zara supplied “He invited her tonight…”

“Ah, he’s back.” Greg nodded over Frank’s shoulder and he and Fliss turned to see the tall blonde man walking back with a familiar face by his side.

Oh for fucks sake…

“Bonnie…” Fliss smiled at her as the woman stilled when she saw her and Frank.

“You know each other?” Simon asked, frowning slightly.

“Yeah, errr…” Frank began, wondering how the hell he was going to get out of this when Fliss spoke up.

“Bonnie is, was, still is I suppose, Mary’s teacher.” Bonnie shot her a grateful look and Fliss simply smiled as Simon made a noise of comprehension.

"I should have twigged!” he said, as they both took a seat at the booth. Zara handed out a few glasses of prosecco from the bottle that sat on the table to Bonnie and Fliss who both thanked her, the men grabbing a beer from the bucket.

“Thank you.” Frank whispered into Fliss’ ear as she turned to look at him. “I didn’t know he was seeing her, or that she was gonna be here, I promise…”

Fliss frowned and shrugged “It’s fine.” she said, almost as if she was puzzled as to why he was apologising. The confusion on his face must have shown as she smiled and lay her hand on his knee.

“Frank, I don’t have a problem with Bonnie. I still think it was a stupid thing to do but…” she shrugged.

He smiled at her and dropped a kiss to her cheek. “You’re fucking amazing you know that?”

“Yep…” she popped the p, grinning at him as she took a drink from her champagne glass.

Fliss kept up with the conversation, but she soon realised that as nice as they were Zara and Lisa were just not her type of people. With both their husbands having well paid jobs, as a lawyer and a bank manager, both were stay at home mums with a lot of money to spend and time on their hands. Plus they clearly spent a lot of time together so a lot of the chatter they made between themselves, leaving Fliss to simply listen.

At one point she glanced at Bonnie who was sat, nervously twisting her fingers together before she excused herself and headed over to the bathroom. Fliss gave it a few seconds before she too did the same, Frank moving so she could squeeze past him, hands falling to her hips as she went.

“Hey…” Fliss looked at Bonnie who was stood leaning on a sink. “You ok?”

“Yeah, I err, well, I don’t know about you but I feel a little out of place. I mean they’re nice enough but…“

"Kinda feels like we’re outsiders.” Fliss nodded finishing the sentence for her.

Bonnie snorted “I feel like they’re judging me a little. Like I’m a teacher…who has to work, and it’s not a great job…”

“Dude, I shovel shit for a living and Frank’s a grease monkey.” Fliss said causing Bonnie to snort. “It’s not that at all, they’re just friends and we’re…well…”

“Strangers…” Bonnie nodded.

“Exactly.” Fliss shrugged “Trust me, I’ve done the whole awkward social circle thing before, this…well, this is actually kinda nice in comparison. I met some real ass hats when I was with my ex. These guys are ok”

Bonnie smiled and then she grinned cheekily "Wanna go do tequila?”

“Fuck, yes.” Fliss nodded and they left the bathroom giggling, heading straight to the bar. Bonnie placed her order and slid a note over the bar as they both settled on a stool. Fliss glanced round to the booth where Frank was sat talking to the rest of his friends before she turned back to Bonnie who slid her a shot over. Without a word they both had their salt, downed the shot, then bit into the lemon, both grimacing and laughing as Fliss ordered another two and asked Bonnie what long drink she wanted. Turns out she was also a gin and tonic woman.

“I’m glad you and Frank ended up together.” Bonnie said, smiling at her. “It’s nice.”

“Thanks.” Fliss smiled at her. “Kinda crept up on me a little, you know? I wasn’t looking for anything but…”

“I’m glad me and him didn’t ruin it.” Bonnie said gently “That entire night was a huge mistake…I could tell the day after he regretted it.”

Fliss shrugged “Well we all do dumb shit.”

“Say that again.” Bonnie mumbled as their second shots arrived along with their gin.

“You know when he told me he’d told you it was a mistake I went mad at him.” Fliss snorted “I mean, talk about a shitty thing to say.”

“Oh that’s not the half of it, he-…” Bonnie trailed off and shook her head as she took a drink of her gin. “Forget it, doesn’t matter.”

“What?” Fliss pressed.

“Nope.” Bonnie shook her head firmly.

“You can’t just say that and not tell me!“ Fliss whined as Bonnie downed her shot, before she sighed.

"He called me by your name, twice.”

Fliss choked on her gin, her eyes wide “What, when you…”

Bonnie nodded.

“Ok, so I feel like I should be apologising…” Fliss said, “Not sure what for but…” Bonnie chuckled as Fliss shook her head and continued “How did you not rip his cock off…I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m very glad you didn’t but…”

Bonnie laughed loudly as Fliss sprinkled more salt onto her hand “It’s not a big deal, he was mortified when I told him.”

“So he should be…” Fliss said, as she picked up her tequila.

She turned to look at Frank who was now looking round the bar, questioningly. He spotted her at the bar and raised an eyebrow and she met him with a look of her own. “I’m dating an ass hole.” she said, turning back to Bonnie “He’s cute though.”

There was a pause before they both laughed, and Bonnie gestured to the empty glasses. Fliss shrugged and Bonnie, with a grin, ordered another 2 shots.

****

“So, how’s the new job Frank?” Simon looked at him and Frank smiled, taking a pull from his bottle.

“I don’t start until January.” he said, “But yeah, looking forward to it. Full time wage, benefits…what’s not to like?”

“And a boss.” Greg said, and Frank laughed.

“Well, be kinda nice not to have to think about where the next job is coming from.” he shrugged, “I still get to do what I enjoy but less stress…”

Greg, Simon and Jake all exchanged a look which Frank didn’t miss. He gave a sigh. “What?”

“Nothing…” Jake smirked “Just watching you finally growing up is bringing a tear to my eye. I mean, you brought a girl to our Christmas gathering, the first one ever…in the history of the Circle of Truth holding Christmas gatherings…”

"Yeah, I imagine this is what it’s like waving your kid off to university.” Simon nodded.

Frank raised his middle finger at them all, causing them to laugh.

“We’re only joking.” Simon said, winking “In all seriousness, it’s nice to see.”

Frank shook his head “You make it sounds like I’m some kind of utter disaster case…”

They all paused and once again looked at each other. “Oh fuck you.” Frank snorted as they all laughed again.

“Anyone seen the ladies?” Greg said, looking around suddenly.

“Oh, I think Zara and Lisa are on the dance floor…” Jake said looking round.

Frank glanced round the bar, looking and saw that indeed they were but there was no sign of Fliss. Or Bonnie for that matter. Fliss had gone to the bathroom a while back but surely it couldn’t be that long to pee, even if you were a girl.

“Oh, looks like our girls are getting on…” Simon said, nodding with his head to the bar. Frank turned in his seat and glanced over and saw Fliss laugh at something Bonnie said, before she licked a line of salt off her hand, downed the shot, and bit into the lemon. He couldn’t decide if he was relieved or a little weirded out at how cool Fliss was around the woman he’d almost ruined his chances with her over, but as he watched her cutting loose, talking to Bonnie, the two women locked in a very friendly exchange he felt his chest warm. Fliss had openly admitted to him not long back she was a little lonely, her own friends being in England and the ones she had in Boston, well, they’d not really been her friends, more his. He supposed it was nice to see her with someone like that, even if it as one of his one night conquests. As he watched Fliss spluttered on her drink and looked at Bonnie, another exchange was had before Fliss picked up her next tequila and looked at him. He raised a questioning eyebrow but all she did was smirk and turn back to Bonnie. With a slight shrug he turned to Simon.

“Wanna join em?”

Simon nodded “Yeah, why not.”

They excused themselves from the booth and headed over. Fliss smiled as Frank slid an arm round her waist and dropped a kiss to her neck, before Simon grinned and nodded as he added another 2 tequilas to their order.

Several more shots and gins later Fliss was drunk. So was Frank. Which was the reason the two of them had ended up on the outside beach dancefloor, dancing to some random Christmas shit. It was also the reason Frank’s denim button down was now un-done revealing his white sleeveless which he had on underneath, giving Fliss a perfect view of that collar bone tattoo she loved so much. It hadn’t surprised her in the slightest when he had explained where the words were from, being a man of philosophy and all that. She also loved the reason behind his Taurus tattoo, it being Mary’s zodiac sign. Basically her sailor underneath all his bravado was a huge sentimental sap. A huge, sentimental sap whose hands were once again now cupping her ass as they moved to the music. Fliss had long given up reaching around to restore them to the bottom of her back and simply smirked to herself slightly as she looked round the dancefloor and out across the dark ocean.

“Still not right.” she murmured.

“What?”

“This…” she made an elaborate gesture with her arm and hit a guy next to her. “Whoops…sorry.” she grimaced as Frank snorted, the guy simply shrugged and carried on his way. “I mean…no snow at Christmas…”

“Yeah but, you’re outside, on a christmas dancefloor, on the beach” he shrugged “I mean it’s kinda cool…”

“Suppose…” she said, and then she paused, and Frank watched as a gorgeous grin spread across her face whilst she cocked her head to the music. It had just morphed into Fairy Tale of New York and she let out a whoop “I fucking love this one!”

There was a loud cheer from someone and suddenly the two of them were squashed together as Simon and Bonnie appeared, followed by the rest of the group and they found themselves in a circle, arms tangled around shoulders, the girls singing the girls part and the boys singing the boys part. At one point someone dressed as Santa muscled into the middle of the group, simply giving a loud cheer before he exited and moved elsewhere, causing Fliss to snort hysterically, hanging onto Frank’s arm as she did. As the song ended, everyone belting out the last line the group descended into giggles and Frank just watched his girl. Her cheeks were flushed, hair was slightly frizzier now thanks to the humid outdoor air and she was absolutely the wrong side of wasted but god did he love that woman.

He loved her.

Frank Adler, one time self-proclaimed bachelor, king of the Friday night fucks was in love. When did that happen?

As he watched her lean in and say something to Greg who burst out laughing he realised he couldn’t pin point it. It had crept up on him, like a slow burn, a deep fire in the very core of his belly. And damned did that fire feel hot.

Frank reached for his girl and pulled her away from Greg. She stumbled slightly into his arms and she looked up at him, giggling a little and he cut her off with a deep kiss. And before he could stop himself, he blurted it out, right there in the middle of a temporary beach dancefloor.

“I love you.” If anyone else in the group had heard they were tactful enough to all turn away, pretending not to, but there’s no way they could have missed Fliss when she pulled back, a look of shock on her face which morphed into a grin and she pointed at Frank.

“Youuuu loooooveeee meeee!” she said in a sing song voice. Frank felt himself blush.

“Yeah, do you hafta announce it to the entire of South Pass?” his Boston accent dripped off his tongue. “Youuuu loooooooveeee meeee!” she said again and he groaned, pulling her closer. She leaned up so she could whisper into his ear, and damned the touch of her lips against his ear aroused him far more than was appropriate for the middle of a public dance floor.

“Wanna know a secret Sailor?” she asked. He turned his head to look at her and she smirked at him “I love you too.” Well fuck.

Despite the fact they were both trashed, they both knew this wasn’t just a heat of the moment thing. Both felt it, both knew that whatever it was they had was different, special, a part of them now and Frank felt himself mimicking the stupid smile on her face. He leaned down to kiss her again, and her hands tangled into his hair, the feel of her delicate nails on his scalp sent hot pokers to his belly and his already half growing arousal was, well, aroused even more.

“And that’s even though you’re an asshole who calls someone else’s name during sex…” she said as he pulled away. With a groan Frank hung his head as her arms linked around his neck, his hands locking behind her back.

“You know about that?” he asked with a little hiccup. “She told you?”

“Yup.” Fliss narrowed her eyes “And FYI you do that to me I’ll cut your balls off and feed them to Thor.” “Harsh but fair.” Frank conceded after a short pause. She grinned and leaned up to kiss him again before she pulled away.

“Can we go now ‘cause I’m kinda horny.”

Ok, so Drunk Fliss was another Fliss to add to his list of favourite Flisses. Along with Sassy, shy, stern, sleepy, just fucked, just woken up…basically all the Flisses

“Nope.” he teased “I’m good here.” “Really?” she asked, pressing closer to him, tilting a little and he grunted a little as her hip bone pressed into his groin “Sure about that?”

“Yup…” he managed to squeak out.

“That must be a spanner in your pocket then. Or a screwdriver, or some other form of pointy tool…” she said, hardly able to finish the sentence she was laughing that much.

“Yeah, those…damned pointy tools…” he shook his head as he leaned down to kiss her. It was sloppy, open mouthed, full of tongue and absolutely filthy and left the pair of them in a bit of a daze. Frank pulled away and looked around, taking a deep breath “Ok, we can go now.”

Somehow they made it home in one piece. It took Fliss 3 attempts to get the key in the lock, the pair of them giggling like a couple of school kids, before she finally managed it and Frank leaned over and pushed the door open. Fliss stumbled slightly and Frank caught her, laughing.

“Shhh” he said.

“What for?” she asked, kicking off her shoes.

He paused for a moment and then shrugged “Actually I don’t know…”

“Idiot…” she sniggered, pushing his undone shirt down his arms before pulling at the bottom of his sleeveless. He moved so she could pull it over his head and as her fingers started to undo the button at the top of his jeans he reached round and gently found the zipper on her jumpsuit, sliding it down, his fingers gently skimming her back as they backed to the couch. Fliss fell over the arm with a thud, Frank following, before the momentum tripped him and he rolled onto the floor, pulling her with him, landing with a thud on his back. She fell on top of him, her elbow catching him in the ribs and he gave a loud huff, before she laughed and leaned over kissing him. His hands tangled into her hair, keeping her head angled perfectly, the kiss searing, leaving them breathless. Fliss pulled back and he brushed her hair back with both his hands, smiling softly at her.

“I meant what I said you know.” he looked at her

“Remind me again what that was…” she teased.

“I…” he leaned up and pecked her lips “love…” another peck “you.”

“Tell me when you’re sober…” she sassed back and gave a squeal as he whipped her over so she was on her back on the rug by the coffee table, framed between his strong arms and legs.

“In vino veritas.” he quipped and she propped herself up on her elbows, the front of her jumpsuit fell forward slightly and Frank blatantly stole a look down it at her lacy strapless bra, giving a groan.

“Yeah, and in vino a load of non-sensitas too…” she grinned and he gave a snort, as he dipped his head.

“Shut up.” he mumbled, his lips pressing onto hers again. ***** Frank groaned, blinking against the light that was streaming in through the crack in the curtains. Jesus Christ his head hurt. Rolling over he was met with a face full of hair and he blew it out of the way, smoothing down Fliss’s wild locks which were splayed all over the pillow. Gently sliding an arm under her neck he dropped the other one round her bare waist and pulled her into him, her back pressing to his chest as he snuggled close, screwing his eyes closed against the painful daylight.

“What year is it?” Fliss groaned and Frank chuckled slightly.

“Feeling rough baby?”

“Rough?” She croaked “I feel like I have a smurf in my head with a pick axe. This is all your fault.”

“My fault?“

"Yes you let me drink tequila with Bonnie.” “Ok, first off I didn’t know you were doing that until I saw you at the bar…”

“Yeah, and then you and Simon joined in…

“…and second off, you’re a grown ass woman. You make your own decisions.” She groaned again and then stilled “Fuck, we had sex last night…”

“Wow…” Frank said, laughing “Way to ruin my pride sweetheart…” “No I mean…” she shuffled onto her back and looked at him. “Did we…use…“

Franks eyes went wide. "Oh, erm…” No, no they hadn’t… fuck, fuck, fuck.

“I mean, come on, surely, we’ll be fine right?” he asked, “I mean, one time…what are the chances of…” “No, it’s not that I’m worried about.” she shook her head “I’m on the pill…I just..” she trailed off.

Frank propped himself up on his elbow as he cottoned on to what she was saying “Are you being serious?” he snorted.

“Well I don’t know where you’ve been!” she said indignantly “well, ok, maybe I know some of where you’ve been, but…” Frank snorted and shook his head “What do you take me for?”

“An ex ho?” she shot back immediately.

He fell onto his back laughing “If you must know I’ve never had unprotected sex with a one night stand in my life. And the other week I went and got tested, just for you. And I’m clean so…” “That’s so romantic… ” she grinned at him.

“Well I try.” he raised an eyebrow.

“Still love me?” she quipped and he turned his head to look at her.

“Fraid so.” “Too bad.” she teased, shuffling over to him “Coz that means you’re stuck with me…” “Oh no…” he said sarcastically as he turned onto his side, glancing down at her bare breasts “How will I ever cope?”

“Sure you’ll think of a way.” she arched an eyebrow before she suddenly went green. “Oh shit…” she mumbled, before she shot out of the bed and into the bathroom.

Frank listened to her barfing and snorted a laugh before he swung himself out of bed, glad to find his boxers on the floor by his feet. Although where the rest of his clothes where he had no idea. He knocked on the bathroom door.

“You ok?”

He heard the toilet flush and she emerged, wrapped in a robe and looked at him. “I’m never drinking tequila again. Ever.”

Frank had to hand it to his girl, despite her raging hangover she still managed to teach 4 classes of kids that day, and made it through to 9pm before she completely crashed on the sofa, falling asleep as the three of them sat in the apartment living room watching The Grinch, Mary’s choice. As the film finished at little after 10, Mary, who was lounging on Frank’s lap looked over to where Fliss lay, her head resting on the other arm of the couch, her feet nestled under his thigh, and nudged Frank.

“I know.” he said softly “Leave her be.”

Mary grinned and reached up to run her hand through his beard “you love Fliss.” He looked at her for a second, eyebrow raised “What makes you say that?”

“Roberta.” she shrugged.

Frank snorted. “Well, she’s not wrong.” “Did you tell her yet?” Mary looked at him.

“Yeah.”

“What did she say?”

“That she loves me too.”

Mary grinned “Lissy and Frank, sitting in a tree…”

He rolled his eyes as she chanted off the rest of the ridiculous rhyme and then looked at her “you finished?”

“Yup.” “Good, bed time.” “Awww Frank….”

“No arguments. Bill told me what time you stayed up till gone 1 am last night.” “Grass.” she narrowed her eyes.

“Yeah, you better believe it. Go on, wash your face, clean your teeth.”

“Shower?”

“Quit stalling Stack you had one when you got back from the stables…”

With a groan she pushed herself off his knee and he stood up as she headed into the bathroom. He pulled a fresh pair of pyjamas out of the clean pile of laundry he needed to sort that was on the chair at the back of the room and lay them on his bed before he moved over and knelt down by Fliss’ head.

“Honey…” he said gently, pushing her hair back off her face. “Baby…“

She made a noise as she wrinkled her nose, and he smiled as she blinked and looked at him.

"Oh, shit…sorry…” she said as she realised she’d fallen asleep. “What time is it?“” “Not too late.” he smiled “Just about to put Mary to bed. You staying here or…”

“Yeah if that’s ok?” “Course its ok.” he smiled.

She smiled at him as he dropped a kiss to her lips and then sat up, running her hand through her hair as she blinked, yawning. “Fuck I’m so tired.” She stood up, stretched and then smiled as Mary came back into the room. The girl shot Frank a filthy look and stalked past him into his room. “Ok, wow…” “She doesn’t want to go to bed.” he shrugged, “moody little madam.”

Fliss laughed as she headed into the bathroom. Frank sat down on the sofa and a little while later, Mary emerged and shot straight for her bed.

“Can I at least read?” she looked at him.

“10 minutes, tops.” he said, “Whilst I do the dishes…”

She grinned and he turned off the TV and headed into the kitchen, clearing away the remains of their takeaway, stowing the left overs in the fridge for lunch the day after.

In the bathroom Fliss was busy groaning to herself as she realised she’d come on. She knew she was due, but still, this was a pain in the ass. Sorting herself out, she washed her hands and walked into the kitchen. Frank looked up and raised his eyebrow, misinterpreting the look on her face.

“You been sick again?” he asked.

“No… ” she shook her head as she bit her lip. “Look, Frankie, I’m gonna go home…” “Why?” he frowned.

“I errr…” she flushed “I forgot…I…” she trailed off and his frown deepened as her hand moved instinctively to her stomach before a look of realisation crossed his features.

“Oh…” he said, nodding “Well, ok, if you’re more comfortable going home then that’s up to you sweetheart…” He dropped a kiss to her head and she looked at him, confusion flooding her brain. “You don’t want me to go?”

“Why would I want you to go?” he frowned.

“Because…” she looked at him, unable to voice what she was getting at. As a memory flooded her mind, one of John screaming at her for the sheets being marked, she was jerked back to the here and now as Frank closed the distance between them, tipping her head up to look at him. “Lissy, talk to me…”

“Sorry, I err…” she rubbed at her head “He used to make me sleep in a separate room…” “Are you for real?” Frank blurted out, and she could see the anger flooding his system. “Seriously?”

She visibly recoiled a little at his tone and Frank cursed himself as she looked at him, eyes wide as she began to apologise.

“Hey…” he said gently, reaching out to her. “Stop. You’ve nothing to be sorry for I shouldn’t have shouted I just….” he took a deep breath “That’s fucked up.” “Don’t you think I know that?” she said quietly, looking down as his hands rubbing her arms, before she looked back up at him, her eyes now had a fierce spark “You wanna know what’s really fucked up?“ When he was trying to get me pregnant, every month he’d stop me taking pain killers. Told me it was my own fault for not managing to conceive.”

“Jesus Liss…” Frank shook his head, as she shrugged, her head turning to the side. “Baby…” “Don’t” she shrugged “I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.” “Ok.” he said, nodding. “You wanna stay?”

She nodded, smiling softly.

“Good.” he said, dropping a kiss to her forehead before he moved away from her and reached over, filling the kettle.

“What are you doing?” she asked from behind him.

“Making you a tea.” he shrugged “Used to help Diane…”

“Thanks…” she said softly after a short pause.

“You got everything you need or you need to go the store?”

“I’m good.” she nodded “Ex Girl Scout, always prepared…” He gave a laugh.

“Think I might take another shower though, if that’s…” “You don’t need to ask.” he said gently

“Ok, well…” she nodded and he smiled, before she moved over and wrapped her arms round his waist, nuzzling into his chest. He gently rubbed at her back, before she leaned up, kissed him and headed out. The kettle boiled and he leaned on the side, dropping his head slightly. What kind of fucked up asshole did that to his own wife? To a wife he was supposed to love and protect no less. It broke his heart to think anyone could be so callous, so mentally and physically abusive to someone so soft, so gentle, so damned amazing….he looked up as he saw her making her way into the bathroom, bag in hand and she smiled at him, shutting the door.

Once he’d made them both a hot drink and grabbed the Advil, he made his way through to his room, placing one mug on the bedside table on the side he slept on and then another on the sill behind Fliss’ side and leaned on the doorframe, looking at Mary. She was still reading.

“Please just the end of this chapter…” she said, holding up the Harry Potter book. Frank took a deep breath, then decided fuck it. She’d fall asleep at some point, there was no school.

“Lights off after that.” he said “I’ll be out to check.” She grinned as he dropped a kiss to her head. “Night Stack.” “Night Frank.”

Back in his room he stripped off, tossing his t-shirt into the hamper before folding his jeans and dropping them on his dresser. He settled on the bed, stretching his legs out as he kicked the duvet down and flicked on the small TV, flipping through the channels looking for something to watch. Grinning when he found an episode of Family Guy, he turned the volume down low and had been watching for about 5 minutes when he heard Fliss talking to Mary who mentioned something about the book before he heard her bid her good night, and as Fliss opened the door he saw Mary’s light flip off.

He smiled at his girl who had her hair pulled back in a braid and was dressed in a pair of bed shorts and a tight camisole type top, her shoulders bare, long legs stretched as she dropped onto the bed besides him.

“You ok?” he asked, dropping a kiss to her shoulder as she reached round for the drink. She paused as she saw the Advil and then picked it up, smiling at him as she turned to face him.

“Yeah.” she assured him as he kissed the bridge of her nose. She tossed down two pain killers and sipped her drink, her legs bent in front of her as they sat in a comfortable silence, watching the TV, both laughing softly at the show. Eventually she placed the mug down and snuggled closer to him. He reached down for the duvet and pulled it up round their legs as her head lay on his chest, his arm falling round her, fingers lightly brushing down the back of her neck, shoulder and then up again. It was an action he knew she found comforting, and he was proven right as little over 15 minutes later he looked down to find her fast asleep.

With a soft smile he turned off the TV and gently moved her so that they were both lay flat and she gave a soft hum of contentment and snuggled into him closer. With a yawn he pressed a kiss to her head and closed his eyes.

******

The rest of the two weeks remaining to Christmas was spent in a whirl of tree-decorating, paper-chain making, shopping and eating more crap than Fliss had thought humanly possible. Steve and his wife Sian arrived on the 22nd and Verity cooked a huge family dinner where Mary was introduced to their twin boys. Frank watched her with interest, they were both her age and he was pleasantly surprised to see she actually seemed to mingle with them quite well. Steve was also noticeably warmer towards him too, which was a relief, and Frank was more than happy to take him out for a beer with Bill one evening whilst the women stayed at home and wrapped presents whilst drinking copious amounts of champagne. A Gallagher tradition Frank was informed, a tradition he eagerly told Bill he could fully get on board with, especially when Fliss had offered to wrap Mary’s presents as well.

By the time Christmas Eve rolled round Frank noticed that Fliss was ridiculously excited and was happy to admit it was because she was looking forward to spending it with him and her family. When Verity had invited him to join them for Christmas dinner he’d been reticent to accept at first, not because he didn’t want to, but because he didn’t want to put her out. When she’d told him she’d be more offended if he refused he’d relented and made the mistake of telling Mary who hadn’t let the subject drop for the last 2 weeks. Fliss joined them in their traditional Christmas Eve celebration with Roberta, where they exchanged gifts, Roberta made up with the chunky silver bangle Fliss had spotted in a shop and the photo frame which Mary had made one evening with Bill by glue-gunning sea shells onto a plain wooden one she had gotten from Target. Once they were done, they packed Fliss’ jeep up and headed off to the annex. After watching “Elf” in the cinema room with the rest of the family, wearing her new Chrstmas Pyjamas (another Gallagher tradition that all the kids in the family got new ones to sleep in on Christmas Eve) they three of them headed back over to the annex and Mary shot up to bed with no fuss at all, leaving Frank and Fliss to enjoy the rest of their evening which they spent making out like a pair of horny teenagers on the couch until they’d ended up fucking like a pair of horny teenagers on the couch too. Christmas morning Fliss cracked open an eye and grinned as she sat up, listening to Mary who was calling from the spare room, before she started to sing We Wish You A Merry Christmas, which was punctuated by barks from Thor. Besides her Frank gave a groan and she nudged him.

“Wake up scrooge.” “Fuck off.” he mumbled.

She laughed and nudged him again before she climbed out of bed, wearing his T-shirt and pulled a pair of denim shorts on “I reckon you got about 2 minutes before Mary barrels through the door…” "Fucking Christmas…” Frank said, but she caught the smile on his face as he swung his legs out of bed and stretched, the muscles on his back rippling as he did so. Standing up Fliss watched as he moved, his ass looking pretty damned fine in his boxers as he headed to the bathroom, banging on the spare room door as he did. Fliss heard it fly open and a few minutes later Mary came shooting into her room and bounced on the bed, a half-eaten chocolate Santa in her hand which she had unwrapped from her Stocking. Thor followed, taking up position on the foot of the bed and Fliss hugged Mary, grinning. She loved Christmas, she always had done as a kid. Granted, it hadn’t always been fun with he-who-shall-not-be-named, but the last 2 since leaving him she’d gotten that childish excitement back, and today was no exception.

“So, I just stand here do I?” Frank asked as he leaned on the doorway, gesturing to the now full bed. Fliss grinned at him and shrugged.

“We’re not staying here.” Mary looked at him “We got presents to open downstairs…” “Hmmm not sure we do.” Frank teased as he pulled a shirt from his bag in the corner of the room “I mean, does Santa know you’re here and not at the apartment…” Mary rolled her eyes “I haven’t believed in Santa since I was 5”

“What?” Fliss said, horrified “I still believe and I’m like 33!”

Mary gave her a scathing look. Fliss shrugged. “What can I say, I believe in Christmas magic” “I did…” Mary shrugged “Until he didn’t bring me a puppy.” “He doesn’t do live animals.” Fliss reasoned.

“Or a piano.” “Too big to fit on the sleigh.” “Or an algebra book I wanted.” “Yeah, why the hell would he bring you maths books?” Fliss snorted “That’s school work.” “I like it. "she shrugged, before she shoved the rest of her chocolate in her mouth and jumped up, bouncing on the bed. "Come on! Get up!”

Thor looked up, gave a huff and Frank told her to stop bouncing. She flopped down and looked at him, folding her arms and Fliss laughed “ok, let’s go!”

The two of them raced down the stairs, Frank following as Mary burst into the living room to see her presents piled by the sofa, and her eyes immediately went to the large wooden box which wasn’t wrapped that had her name painted on the side, and a large painted white pony on the top, resembling Monty. She moved to it and opened it, giving a squeal as she began to pull out the various grooming products that Fliss had bought her to make her own little pony box. As Mary began to hastily rip the wrapping paper off the rest of the pile of gifts, Frank moved to the tree and pulled out 2 boxes. One large, one small.

“Merry Christmas baby girl.” he said, dropping a kiss to Fliss mouth. She grinned and sat down on the couch, opening the little box first. Inside was a silver necklace a pendant in the shape of a Daisy which Fliss beamed at.

“I love daisies!” she smiled at him “They remind me of home.” “I know.” he smiled as she looked at it again before she moved to the next box. This was the one Frank was excited about. They’d cost him a small fortune but, turns out when you don’t spend every Friday night in Ferg’s you actually saved a fair bit of dough. Who knew? “Oh my god…” she whispered as she cleared the paper away from the contents and glanced down at the tan Cowboy boots. She took a deep breath as she picked one out of the box to examine the detailing on the leather before her eyes widened as she saw her name ‘Lissy’ stitched on the top.

“Do you like them?” he asked softly, although he could tell from her reaction that was a stupid question.

“Frankie…” she looked at him with tears in her eyes, God this man really did listen to every damned word she said. “I can’t…” she leaned over and gave him a kiss. “Thank you…”

He smiled as she slipped them on and stood up, giving Mary a twirl. There was something about her wearing them along with denim shorts that Frank wasn’t ashamed to admit he found a little arousing.

Frank laughed when he got his presents from Fliss, a new Paul Smith shirt, a Red Sox Cap and a new Samsung Smartphone as she informed him his Nokia had gone out of fashion in 2009. Which was before Mary was born, she pointed out. But it was the gifts they both got from Mary that surprised and reduced them to tears of laughter.

Fliss held up the cowboy hat, grinning from ear to ear as she slipped it on whilst Frank held the white Navy Captain’s hat up and shook his head. “Where on Earth did you get these?” he asked, laughing.

“Bill helped me.” Mary shrugged, looking up from where she was now jamming a pink Ariat baseball cap which she had just unwrapped on her head.

“Remind me to thank him later!” Frank rolled his eyes as Fliss snatched the hat from him and stuck it on his head.

“Mary, get in…” she patted Frank’s knee and Mary hopped up, as Fliss held her phone away from them, snapping a selfie of the 3 of them. Frank watched her as she smiled, inspecting it and he had to admit it was a pretty good snap of the 3 of them. All smiling, all wearing some form of head gear, and for the first time in as long time he realised he was enjoying Christmas morning because HE was having a good time, not just Mary. To him it normally meant a fuck load of expense and the fact another year was rapidly drawing to a close. But he was more than happy to draw a close on 2017. Not simply to shut the door on a mentally draining court fight, but also because he was looking forward to the future. He was starting a new job, would be in the market for a new home and moving through all of those changes with his girl by his side excited him instead of filling him with dread.

As Mary slid off his knee to examine another present he turned to Fliss who grinned, knocking his hat off his head.

“Merry Christmas cowgirl.” he grinned,

She smiled, leaning over to kiss him “Merry Christmas Sailor!”

#frank adler x ofc #frank adler #gifted #gifted fan fic

75 notes · View notes

aknymph · 5 years ago

Text

Our Little Secret~ Part 2

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

A/N: Decided to continue this; hopefully more to come! (Another note at the end!)

Characters belong to Leigh Bardugo and The Grisha Trilogy.

**Warnings: mature content, sex, language

Characters: Alina Starkov + The Darkling; Mal, Tolya, Tamar

Read Part 1 here

I let Aleksander show me what he could give me if I indeed decided to rule beside him. I was lost in him, his scent, the feeling of his strong body against mine. Back in the White Cathedral, my body was still weak, but here, with him, I was strong, alive, vibrant even. Though my body here was only a part of myself, I could feel his power flowing through me and mine through him as we explored this bond between us. That sense of surety I’d always experienced at his touch was somehow made different with this joining, as if he too could feel the surge of surety, of rightness when we were together.

“Alexsander,” I moaned, as he thrust himself into me, grazing my neck with his teeth. He had gone slowly with me at first, letting me adjust to the size of him. He was more attuned to me than I imagined it possible for someone to be. He listened to my sounds, responded to my movements, making the smallest adjustments at any sign of the slightest discomfort. As I grew accustomed to the size and feel of him, he allowed himself to grow more fierce in our exchange.

“Yes, Alina?” He was breathless, and he seemed vexed at having to remove his mouth from my body long enough to speak.

“I want this, Aleksander. I want us. I want you,” it was a chore to speak with the things he was doing to my body. He had his hands braced on either side of my head to keep from crushing my body beneath his, and it gave me the most glorious view of us both. Those teeth had made it to the base of my neck, and he bit me, eliciting another moan. Never had I imagined wanting a man to bite me, but the desire that coursed through me at that was unmistakable.

“More,” I ground out, feeling a smile playing at his lips at my response.

Never had Aleksander, had the Darkling, been so obedient to my desires, and I found it thrilled me to have him at my command, even if only in this. He continued to move his mouth lower, marking me with tongue and teeth as he went. When his mouth found my breast, he pulled back, only lightly tracing it’s curve with his tongue.

“Aleksander,” I moaned again, a plea on my lips.

“So eager.” I could tell he was pleased with himself, pleased with the reaction he was garnering with such little effort.

He moved his tongue across me again, this time a brazen lick instead of the light caress from a moment ago. But I was tired of waiting, and as his tongue slid over my nipple, I arched my back, thrusting my breast into his mouth. A moan escaped his lips at that, but he obliged, sucking me deeper into his mouth as I continued to press myself into him. With my back arched, he braced a hand against my bare back and pulled his knees underneath himself to straddle me, pushing himself impossibly deeper inside me. I was surprised to find myself moving then, pulling myself into his lap. I straddled him, wrapping my legs around his waist and grinding myself onto him.

“Fuck, Alina.”

I was impossibly encouraged by his response to my movements as I wrapped my arms around his back to grasp his shoulders. One of his hands slid to grip my ass, aiding my movements against him, the other tangled in my hair as he pulled my mouth to his. Despite our rough, pleading movements, his kiss was tender, his full lips lingering on mine. That tenderness unlocked something inside me, and I bucked my body harder, faster against his. He was so deep inside me, and I could feel myself beginning to quake around him.

“Oh, Aleksander. Yes, please.” I couldn’t make sense of the words pouring from my lips. I just knew that I wanted this, whatever was coming, I wanted it. Both his hands gripped my hips as he helped my move toward that glorious peak. Aleksander was panting with me, doing everything he could to bring me over that edge.

“Come for me, my Alina.” At those words, I broke apart, shuddering around his cock, as I rode out that incredible high, our bodies joined for my pleasure. His name spilled from my lips over and over, the sound of which brought him over that edge with me with a few final thrusts.

We sat there, foreheads resting together, panting each other’s air. After what seemed like hours, I felt his brow furrow, and with trepidation I pulled back, and looked at him, surprised to find a smile spread across his face.

“You’re beautiful, my sun saint,” he said as he traced my lips with his thumb.

It was a whispered confession, spoken across the expanse of our bodies. I found that despite our nakedness, all we’d done, the evidence of which was spilled inside me, those words caused a blush to creep across my cheeks. I turned my face to try to hide my embarrassment, but he slid his thumb down the frame of my face, turning me back to look at him.

“Do not hide from me.” I blinked at the sternness in his voice. I met his eyes, realizing it wasn’t anger, but perhaps hurt that lined his features. “Please,” he added then, almost an afterthought.

My own eyes softened then, understanding dawning on me. No, he wasn’t angry, he was nervous, nervous that after all we’d just shared, I would still turn away from him. I let my hand float up to his cheek. His eyes drifted closed as he nestled into my palm.

“Alina,” he began, still sounding pained, “I don’t want to do this without you. I can, but-”

I was ripped from him then, my body being hurdled away. I tried to reach out to him, but I could no longer feel his body against mine.

“Alina. Alina.” My name was being shouted, but it was garbled, as if I was underwater. I reached for Aleksander again; where had he gone? Where was I being taken?

“Alina, wake up. Come back, Alina.” The voice was yelling now, no longer muted, and I felt my body being shaken. Anger coursed through me. I would not be taken; I would fight.

I threw up my fists to ward off my attacker, and my fist met bone with a sickening crunch. Good, I thought, I could do this.

“Shit. Seriously, Alina? You were dreaming. Fuck, I’m bleeding.”

This didn’t make any sense. I tried to shake the confusion from mind, finally opening my eyes.

Mal stood before me, hand cupped below his nose as blood slid into his awaiting palm. Shit. What had just happened? Had Mal caught me with the Darkling? No, we’d been in the palace, in the throne room. Realization dawned on me then as the room around me came into focus and I felt my presence fully sink back into my body. I was in the White Cathedral. How long had I been with him there, leaving my body forgotten in this tomb?

“Mal?” I didn’t mean for it to come out as a question, but it did none-the-less. My mind was racing- guilt, shame, confusion, frustration all swirling together. I tried to steady my breathing, to remind myself that it was unlikely he had any idea what had happened, what I’d been doing mere moments ago.

“What happened?” I managed, channeling as much of my confusion as I could, to try to mask the anger that was quickly bubbling up inside me. What had Aleksander been about to tell me? Later, I told myself. Later.

“What happened is that you just punched Mal in the nose, Alina,” Tamar responded, suppressing her grin. I grimaced as I realized Mal and I weren’t the only ones in the room. My face flushed, again concerned that somehow these people knew what I’d been doing in a throne room, miles from this place.

Tamar stepped up to Mal then, examining. “Don’t be such a baby, Oretsev. It’s not like she broke it. You’ll be fine.” I didn’t miss the smirk she tried to hide from Mal by turning to face me instead.

“Mal had come to check in on you, and we’d followed,” she said, gesturing between herself and Tolya, “just in case anyone tried to give him any trouble. Only, when we got here, you were out cold. We figured you were sleeping, so Tolya and I stood watch outside your door and left Mal to wake you up.” She glanced to Mal with a slight grimace, “When he started shouting, we figured the two of you were just arguing about something, but after a second we realized it was only Mal’s voice.”

I glanced at Tolya, standing by the door, arms crossed, and found he was nodding gravely.

Mal interjected now, apparently deciding his nose had stopped bleeding enough for him to speak. “You were mumbling and thrashing about, and I thought maybe you’d been poisoned or something, that maybe the Darkling had somehow found us down here and he was torturing you.”

I winced at the mention of the Darkling,wondering what the others would think if they knew I was, in fact, with the Darkling, but that it had been nothing akin to torture that he’d been giving me. Mal must have seen my wince because he moved to sit beside me on the bed and took my hand. “It’s okay, Alina, you don’t have to be afraid anymore. He can’t get to you here.”

How was I going to come back from this? I couldn’t tell my friends that something, everything had changed, because for them, nothing had. But I knew this was different now; our fight was different, I was different, and I needed to sort this out. I needed to speak to Aleksander. We could work this out-- together.

“Hello, Alina?” Mal was waving a hand in front of my face, “Are you listening? Are you there? Saints, Alina, what happened?”

“I, I--” I didn’t know what to tell them. I didn’t want to lie to them, but I also couldn’t tell them the truth. Oh, it’s no big deal, I just went to see the Darkling. We talked, well, we didn’t talk that much, but we talked some. We made up. Everything is good now. We’re good. I don’t think he wants to be our enemy, so we can probably just call this war over and go home now. Yeah, that wasn’t going to work. And was that even the truth? I didn’t know. And I the reason I didn’t know was because Mal’s selfish ass pulled me back here into the hell that I couldn’t escape. My anger was boiling up now, threatening to spill over, and I tried to reign it in, to find details, shards of truth I could share without revealing my own secrets. Mal must have seen my anger though because he was up again, backing away from my bed, hands raised before him.

“Whoa, Alina. Are you okay? What the hell happened?”

“Maybe she’s pissed because she was getting some damn good sleep, and your stupid ass decided to wake her up,”Tamar interjected.

I snorted at that, allowing myself to regain the leash on my anger. These people are my friends, I reminded myself, not my enemies.

“I went to see him,” I finally managed.

“What?” Mal was the angry one now, and I found that pleased me.

“I needed to see what was happening, if he was as weakened as I was.” A half-truth.

“And?” Tolya this time. Ever the sun-soldier.

“He wasn’t.” I could see their disappointment at that. “He seems-” perfect, beautiful, impossibly good at knowing what I want-- “at his usual strength. Though I didn’t ask him for a demonstration.” At least not of that kind, I added in my head.

Mal was still skeptical though. What had he observed from me before he’d drawn the attention of the others? “That’s it? It took me twenty minutes to bring you back, Alina. Did he know you were there? Did you talk to him?”

“Of course I talked to him.” I was feeling defensive now, spinning out at the accusation despite knowing he couldn’t know what I’d done.

“And?”

“Why are you being so hostile towards me? It’s not as if I invited him for tea.”

“I thought he had hurt you again, Alina. I was scared.”

“Again? When did he hurt me before? He lied to me, yes, but when did he hurt me?” I was furious now-- with Mal, with myself, maybe even with Aleksander.

“He cut your arm the very first time you met him, Alina,” Mal spat the words as if I was a foolish child. He was right of course, but that had been a test, to reveal my power. Had there been other times he’d hurt me like that, times I’d merely brushed aside? Mal wasn’t finished though, and I soon got my answer.

“He tried to enslave you with that fucking collar. He tried to feed me to the volcra on the Unsea. He used your power to spread the Unsea over half of Novokribirsk, killing anyone in its path. He had a nichevo’ya bite you when he captured us in Novyi Zem. Then he kept us apart on that Saints forsaken search for the sea whip. Is that a long enough list, Alina? Or should I continue?”

My eyes stung with tears at the unspoken accusation in his voice, and I fought to blink them away before they could fall. I would not cry, not for this, not for him.

“I’d like to be alone.”

“And I’d like to know what important conversation you were having with the Darkling while I thought he was torturing you in your mind.”

I looked to Tamar then, knowing she wouldn’t disobey. “I’m still disoriented from being brought back in that way. Can you three please give me some privacy? When I feel myself again, we can reconvene.”

“Of course, Moy Sovereign’ye.” She stepped toward Mal as if to lead him from the room, but he just shook his head and walked out. Tamar pulled the door closed behind them.

My mind was swimming with so many thoughts. Mal hadn’t been wrong, not exactly, but I also didn’t think Aleksander had done any of those things to punish me, per say. To him, they were just a means to an end, and though that didn’t excuse his actions, I also knew that he was ancient, and I couldn’t imagine how living for centuries without anyone to understand you could warp and twist your perceptions of right and wrong. I needed to speak to him; I needed to know what he’d been trying to tell me before Mal pulled me back to this hell hole.

I slowed my breathing, allowing it to steady the thundering of my heart as I layed back down on my bed. I closed my eyes and reached into my power, our power. I felt the antlers, the heart of the stag, the tendril of darkness I’d taken with me, and him-- I felt for him.

Nothing.

I tried again, feeling the bond that flowed between us, the one that had strengthened through the joining we had shared. I felt it all, brushed against the essence that I knew was him, and again, nothing happened.

It was so easy last time, like walking through an open doorway, but this, this seemed more like a wall. I placed my hand against it, testing, trying to understand what was before me. It was hazy, as if I was looking through a foggy window. I used my hand to try to clear a space through which to see, growing frantic at this barrier that had somehow closed me off from him. It seemed that the haze was beginning to clear, so I kept wiping at the surface, willing my vision to clear. Suddenly the barrier was black.

“No!” I shouted at him. “No!” I hit my fist against the wall that now stood before me, black obsidian glistening in front of me. I stumbled backward, not believing my eyes, wondering still what trick this was.

I found myself in my bed again, curled into a ball, tears spilling down my cheeks.

“No, Aleksander,” I whimpered, “No.” How could I have been such a fool? It had been another trick. I had been that stupid, naive girl again, allowing myself to believe he wanted me, needed me. I was a fool.

My tears fell slightly as I drifted into a fitful sleep. This time, no one came to wake me.

A/N: I thought about breaking them apart and sending Alina back the White Cathedral in the middle of things, but that seemed a torture too much for any of us to bare…I’m hoping to write the next chapter from Aleksander’s perspective!!! Thanks for reading!

Read Part 3

#our little secret #the grisha trilogy #the grishaverse #Darklina #alarkling #alina x aleksander #alina x the darkling #alina starkov #aleksander morozova #the darkling #tgt #leigh bardugo #fanfic #darklina fanfic

52 notes · View notes

shootybangbang · 5 years ago

Text

In which things are asked, and things are promised [Part 1/2]

[Pairing]: Arthur Morgan/Reader

[Rating]: Explicit

[Part 2]

Only read this if you like being both sad and horny at the same time.

Not necessarily canon for my ongoing fic, Talking Bird

———

It’s the inverse of the scene you and he have played out so many times before.

As you unbutton his shirt, you follow every inch of revealed skin with your mouth, trailing a line from his collarbone to his belt. His breath catches in his throat when you palm his erection, the familiar sound now cause for dread, what once signified arousal now a warning of the cough to follow.

You worriedly glance upwards, but Arthur shakes his head before you can speak.

“I’m good,” he says. “Keep going.”

So you lower your eyes again. You kneel before him as he sits on the edge of your bed. The wooden slats of your floor are digging into your knees and leaving pink imprints, but no matter, no matter. He is touching your face and running his thumb across your cheek, he is sighing shakily as you take him into your mouth, as you drag your tongue against the length of him and part your lips around the head of his cock.

It’s not long before he stops you. “Not gonna last with you goin’ at me like that.”

You roll your eyes. “That’s the point of it.”

“C’mon, get up here.” He pats the space beside him on the bed. “Want to be inside you again.”

“You are inside me,” you reply, flicking your tongue against him again.

“Cheeky.” Arthur says, grinning. He lightly pinches the side of your face. “You know what I mean.”

“Help me with my dress, then.” Turning your back to him, you stand between his legs and rest your hands on his knees. Facing him is the column of white buttons like a spinal cord, running from the nape of your neck to your lower back.

He undoes them the way he always has: top to bottom, clumsily pushing each button through its corresponding eyelet. “Never liked these things,” you hear him grumble from behind, but there’s no real resentment in it.

You’ve always suspected that he takes a certain satisfaction in undressing you this way. You both prefer the easy convenience of your usual clothes, but the gradual reveal that your more elaborate dresses provide has an appeal all its own. It’s indicative of a side of him, you think, that takes a slow delight in things. A side few others, if any, have ever seen.

When he’s finished, Arthur slips the dress from your shoulders and pulls it down your hips, lets it fall in a pool of grey cloth at your feet.

“Nothing underneath?” he runs a hand from the curve of your waist to the flare of your thigh and you close your eyes, shivering at his touch. “You make a habit of dressing this way or is this just for me?”

You turn to face him. “Just for you.”

He’s silent as he drinks in the sight of you. Even now he regards your naked body with a look of quiet disbelief, as if he’s being gifted with a sight reserved for better men.

But then the moment passes. The lazy grin returns. He presses two fingers along your slit and you stiffen with surprise.

“Arthur! You —”

When he pulls his hand away, his fingers are shiny with your slick. “This for me too?”

You impatiently yank at his sleeve in response. “Hurry up and take off your clothes already.”

“Easy, girl,” he says, shrugging off his shirt. “Ain’t hardly been here a full hour and already you’re givin’ me orders.”

“That’s right.” You put your hand on his shoulder and give him a playful shove. Arthur falls exaggeratedly backwards onto your sheets, landing with a soft whump against the mattress. “But that’s how you like it, isn’t it?”

“That I do,” he says softly.

He lifts his hips to let you shimmy him out of his trousers, pulling them down to his calves. Then his boots, his socks, until he’s laid as bare as you are.

Now that you’re able to get a good look at him, you realize he’s lost even more weight than you’d originally thought. The slight curve of his collarbone now a steep incline, the shadow of his ribs faint beneath his skin. Paler than he should be, his eyes dark with exhaustion.

You touch the scattered bruises spread along his left side. Mottled violet fading to green, days old. Even in this state, Dutch is still sending him out. The old condemnations weigh heavy in your mouth, but you bite them back. There’s no point in it, not when he’s long since made his choices known.

“Must really look like shit if even you’re lookin’ at me like that.”

“Yeah,” you admit, skimming your fingers over his stomach. “But your mind’s made up, isn’t it?”

He nods. There is a small, tired smile on his face as he gestures towards himself. “C’mere, girl.”

You make your way up to him in increments, starting with a kiss to his thigh, then another to the ridge of his hip, letting your lips linger on the jut of bone there, once hidden under muscle but now so prominent beneath the skin. Your thumb traces over the thin, jagged scar that spans across his torso, and you follow its path with your tongue.

Then you pass your palm gingerly over the dark bruising on his side, the scabbed over cut along his forearm, the myriad scratches and scuffs that litter his body, injuries building up little by little until he’s more a patchwork of scars than a man.

Lightly, delicately, you touch the ugly scar across his shoulder, the bullet hole encircled by the gunpowder burn, pressing your mouth to it as you finally straddle him. You run your thumb along the diagonal set of scars on his chin and lower yourself against him, careful not to put any pressure against his chest as you put your hand between your thighs and fit him inside.

The smooth glide, the enveloping warmth so feverishly sweet and intense, has him squeezing his eyes shut to endure it. He makes a low, guttural noise in the back of his throat as he bucks up, but you stop him, pushing his hips down with both hands as you sit up and hold him still.

“Let me,” you say, soft but firm.

“I ain’t an invalid —”

“Arthur, please.”

He hears the brittle urgency in your voice and relents. Arthur sighs, rolling his head back and gazing up at you with his dark blond hair ruffled against your pillow, then raises his hand to your face and brushes his knuckles across the wet glimmer of your cheek. You close your fingers around his wrist and turn to press your lips to his palm, then bring it to rest between the valley of your breasts, laying the flat of it against your sternum.

“When this is all over,” you whisper. “I’m gonna take care of you. Just like this.”

Then the slow lift of your hips. A pace so deliberately drawn out that you can count the beats of your heart in between each rise and fall. And through it all his eyes are fixed on the join of your bodies, the easy back and forth of it, taking in every inch of you the way he would a passing doe or a heron in flight. Something lovely but fleeting, gone in the next second. Nothing left behind save the afterimage, immaterial as air but in his mind’s eye the essentials of it sharp and clear. Touching your skin like he’s tracing the lines in a book, reading with his fingers the whole of you, so intent and with such solemnity that you immediately recognize the meaning of it.

He wants this moment to last as a frozen instant to call back upon later, a final image to dwell upon should he meet his end tomorrow. The realization swells like a palpable thing in the confines of your breast, and you are full to bursting, heavy with grief and dread alike —

Then Arthur meets your eyes, gazing at you with such frank tenderness that all your words die in your mouth, forgoing speech entirely in favor of pure emotion.

“My beautiful girl,” he murmurs. “I love you so much.”

You whimper, squeezing your eyes shut tight against the prickle of tears. A choked sob rises high in your throat that you try, and fail, to swallow down. And it washes over anew, the bitter futility of it all, the bottomless fear that, even with him held inside you and pressed firm against your hips, that even now he is slipping away, little by little, like grains of sand in an hourglass.

“I love you too,” you whisper, voice hoarse with emotion. “And that’s why I’m so scared that you won’t… th-that you won’t…”

You bite your lip and shake your head. Some small, superstitious part of you is convinced that giving voice to the mere possibility of his death will give it further hold on him.

Arthur braces an arm against the mattress and raises himself up to meet you. He holds you steady, his hand cradling the back of your head as he presses his mouth to your own in a long, lingering kiss. And he is warm against your skin, calloused and scarred and torn, the marks of a life hard-lived rough against your palms as you clutch at the broad plane of his back.

He shifts his hips upwards and the raw ache of him twinges deep between your thighs, the sudden pang of sensation enough to coax from your throat a high, fluttery gasp.

“Ah, there it is,” Arthur says, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Never could get tired of that noise.”

You wipe your eyes with the back of your hand, grinning reluctantly. “That so?”

“Wouldn’t lie to you for the world,” he replies, his voice so earnest that you decide not to bring up your tumultuous second encounter, during which he’d lied profusely.

He lays you down beneath him, the warm weight of him heavy against your hips as he presses deep, breathing harsh as he starts up a hard, steady rhythm.

“Wait, you’re gonna wear yourself out—”

“Let me,” Arthur growls stubbornly. Left unsaid is the latter half of the sentence: while I still can.

The bedsprings creak with familiar protest as he works you over, squeaking shrill and constant under the force of his thrusts. Twisting slow come the first, nascent ripples of pleasure, rising warm and persistent through where he’s joined with you. You appeal to him with an urgent whimper, gripping him tight as he kisses you again.

When you come, it all coalesces — the rough scrape of his stubble against your lips, the raw satisfaction of having him sunk deep inside, pressed so close and so dear… then the rise and fall afterwards, the warm and honeyed feeling of relief flooding soft through your veins. And with it, that momentary state of thoughtless bliss, of naked vulnerability so sweet and unguarded that the words slip out before you can stop yourself.

“Arthur,” you murmur. “Finish inside this time.”

He freezes mid-thrust, takes a long, shuddering breath. But in his eyes is reflected the same desperate, awful want, and you can feel the quickening of his blood, the rush of his own instinctual urge.

“Can’t,” he says weakly. “Couldnt… couldn’t risk leavin’ you alone like that.”

“I know.” Turning your head, you bite your lip and will yourself not to cry. “God, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have —”

“But when I come back… ” he interrupts, his voice a hoarse, unsteady whisper. “I’ll make it up to you. As many times as it takes.”

When he comes back. Only a possibility of a possibility now, that minuscule chance that you’ve held onto so fiercely, flickering and waning and dying bit by bit with every trace of blood in his breath. He’s a fool for saying it, and you’re a fool to believe it, but it’s all you have, god it’s all you have —

“Promise me,” you plead, the ache of your words sharp and bitter as gunpowder in the back of your throat.

“I promise.” He presses his mouth to your neck, and in his lovemaking there is a fervency now that edges upon desperation, his motions jerky and unrestrained. “I swear it, because I want it too, god knows I’ve dreamed it —”

Arthur pulls away with a ragged gasp, and his come streaks wet and warm against your belly as he takes himself in hand, panting hard as he wrings from himself the last, weakening pangs of his own release. Then he collapses beside you, chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath.

It takes him a good minute. When he speaks again, it’s with his throat raw and rough, his words punctuated by the strain of his failing lungs.

“First thing we’re doing when we get out west is getting a decent bed.”

He says it with such casual conviction that it hurts with all the sharp, slivered pain of a knife. As if the narrow possibility of his survival were a certainty, a palpable thing ready for the taking.

But if this is the last time, why drag the ugliness of reality into it? At least for a little while, you want to be soft and foolish with him. A pale simulacrum of domesticity. A reprieve, an idyll.

“One we can both actually fit in,” you say. “Like the big one in that Strawberry hotel.”

“But not too big. Gotta have room left over.”

“For what?”

“For a crib,” he replies, turning to you with a smile so wistful and sweet that your heart flutters in your chest like a caged bird. “Might need to add a couple other rooms too, in time.”

The early evening light is filtering through the window, tinging everything it touches with shades of rose. Under it, the pallor of his cheeks is eased, the dark circles under his eyes no longer so prominent. Under it, he looks almost his old self again.

Settling yourself against him, you tuck your head against his shoulder and lay your palm across his chest, taking quiet comfort in the constant thump of his heartbeat. “Yes,” you say softly, allowing yourself the brief luxury of hope. “Yes, I think you’re right.”

------

17 June 2021: edited to add optional happy ending

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan/reader #arthur morgan/oc #rdr2 #red dead redemption #fic #my work #talking bird #i have no idea what the plot for talking bird is gonna be but i had to write this bc the inherent sad bitch in me refuses to shut up #smut #nsft

65 notes · View notes

maxxfabray · 4 years ago

Text

A Reunion of Sorts | Kolax

Who: Max Fabray & Kolbe Adams ( @ofrestlessheartsx - Kolbe )

When: Tuesday 2.9.21

Where: Max’s Suite

What: Reunited after two months; smut & knife play (unfinished)

Max

The weekend was a whirlwind of emotions. Emotions Max didn't know how to sift through and she had a lot of making up to do. By the time Tuesday morning came, she exhausted. She'd burned through the small amount of positive energy she had left and was now in an endless pit of guilt. Guilt for snapping at her sisters, guilt for standing Mike up, guilt for ignoring Kolbe, and most of all guilt from what took her away from the academy in the first place. Everything was a reminder of her failures and her addiction. The most scaring reminder having happened the previous day when she ran into Ash. It seemed like everything was crashing down and she needed to do something right. She needed to do right by Kolbe. So she went straight back to her room after class to prepare for their scene. She cleaned herself, cleaned her knives and put new sheets onto her bed. All she had to do was wait.

Kolbe

Finishing off a shower and packing some clothes into his backpack after clubs, the submissive checked the time and noted that it was time to leave. Kolbe had been quite annoyed with Max when she had messaged him that morning as though she hadn't disappeared on him, as though she hadn't left him on read. It would have been as simple as just telling him she was going to bed, or whatever, but instead she had just ignored him. He shook his head, trying to push away the frustrations as he walked to Max's room, his bag slung over his shoulder. He didn't even know if he was still spending the night, but he figured it was better to be prepared just in case. Reaching her room, he knelt down and then knocked a few times on the door. This was something he had been looking forward to, and hopefully the night could be reclaimed.

Max

Max didn't know how long she was staring at the wall when she finally heard the knock at the door. She shook it off and refocused on the door, trying to apply some of the confidence she used to wear so easily before. She checked the mirror, making sure her smile was in place then opened the door to greet her guest. At least with Kolbe, he brought some actual comfort and she had high hopes that this scene would help mend whatever Max possibly broke. "Hey, handsome." She ran her fingers through his hair then pulled him up by the shoulder so she could properly greet him with a kiss. Like nothing was wrong... because nothing was wrong. "We're going to have a great time tonight."

Kolbe

When the door opened and Max was standing there, he did let out a slow breath. At the very least she hadn't left him hanging tonight. Kolbe moved to his feet when he was moved to do so and despite feeling the lingering pangs of annoyance and frustration, he returned the kiss. Hopefully this evening together would help him get over being left on read the night before. Normally, that wasn't something that would necessarily bother him so much. But being in a submissive head space, it had left him feeling a bit more vulnerable than he was used to. "I'm looking forward to it, Beaut." He responded, because that wasn't a lie. He had been really looking forward to the night with Max and he still was.

Max

Just seeing Kolbe, then holding him and kissing him made her feel instantly better. This was a good thing. She could get out of her own head and just focus solely on the man in front of her. Closing the door behind him, she linked hands and pulled him in through the living room and into her bedroom. "I got new knives from Fauna for Christmas that I'm going to use for you." She pointed to the table where the knives were laid out on a blanket. She turned to him with a familiar glint in her eyes and pulled at the top of his pants. "But first and foremost, let's get these clothes off of you. You still hard for me?"

Kolbe

He glanced at the knives, humming softly. "They look really pretty." He said honestly, before his attention turned back to the Switch as she grabbed at his pants."Yeah, Queen. I'm definitely still hard for you." He uttered softly. The day in class had been more than a little uncomfortable and part of him had wished that he had made himself cum the night before if only so that class had been more comfortable. But hopefully, at least, he would get something out of not making himself cum when she had disappeared.

Max

At his confirmation, she grabbed him through the front of his jeans as she pulled him into another searing kiss. Her hands made quick work of removing his pants, pushing them down as she nipped at his jaw and neck. She took his length in her hand and stroked it at an agonizingly slow pace. "Is this what you thought of while you stroked your cock for me?" When that wasn't satisfying enough, she dropped to her knees and took the tip of his cock into her mouth. "Or was it this?" She moaned around his length, while one hand stroked the base and the other cupped his balls.

Kolbe

The way his pants and boxers were quickly removed wasn't something he would complain about as his cock sprung free. He gasped as she grabbed his cock, her touch exacerbating what he was already feeling. "Fuck, both, Queen..but I've really missed your mouth. Your mouth feels so good on my cock." Kolbe assured her, doing his best not to to press his hips forward. One thing that he consistently reminded himself of during scenes was that he wasn't in control. And that lack of control actually felt good. Max could do whatever she wanted with him right now and he would let her.

Max

That was a tone Max was more used to and already things started to feel like they were back on track. Max loved the reactions she was getting from Kolbe, the selfish part of her enjoying that it was all for her. Pulling back with a pop, she wiped the side of her mouth and grinned at him as she got back on her feet. "Fuck you look so sexy like that." Take off the rest of your clothes, sweetness and go lay down on the bed for me. And while you're doing that, choose a number between one and seven."

Kolbe

"Yes, Queen." He removed his clothing without a second thought. This was far from the first time he had been naked in front of someone and also wasn't his first time naked in front of Max, so he didn't really hold any worries in removing his clothes. "Between one and seven..." He uttered softly, moving towards the bed and getting comfortable on it. "Five, Queen." He finally responded, curious as to what exactly he had just picked.

Max

Max watched with careful eyes as more and more skin was exposed and Kolbe laid back on the bed. He was gorgeous and sometimes it distracted her, but she maintained focus because she couldn't wait to break into his skin. She smirked and counted down the row of knives. "1. 2. 3. 4. 5." Stopping on the fifth one down, she picked up the longest blade in her newest collection and made her way over to the submissive. "Isn't she pretty?" Max flipped it around so he could get a clear view of it. Then she straddled his stomach and held it to his throat. "Remember our first time?"

Kolbe

"She's very pretty. But not as pretty as the person holding her." He quipped, eyes moving between the blade and the Switch. "Of course I remember our first time, Queen. How could I forget?" Kolbe questioned, fighting against the urge within him to grasp onto her waist. She looked so pretty above him, but he knew that touching without permission was only going to make things more difficult on him.

Max

"Oh, aren't you a charming boy." Max dragged the blade down the front of his chest, carefully so she wouldn't break skin... yet. "You know I think about our first time a lot." She scraped his arms and the tops of his knuckles as she rubbed her ass up and down the top of his length. "It was so evident that you were a good boy. Such a good boy." Max smirked as she leaned down to kiss his chin, then his lips. "It makes me wildly possessive that I was the one that got to see that part of you before you retested. Hm..." She went on, "Where should I cut you first?"

Kolbe

He groaned softly when Max dragged the knife against his chest, fighting against the urge to lean into the touch. "A lot, Queen? How much is a lot?" Kolbe questioned, smirking up at the blonde resting on top of him. Her calling him a good boy caused the content feeling that he always got to settle into his stomach. "Thanks, Beaut. I had a hell of a lot of fun with you that night." He assured her, returning the kiss. His eyebrow quirked at the mention of feeling possessive, looking up at her. "Where do you think it would look the best?"

Max

Pulling up her skirt and pulling her panties to the side, she rubbed her pussy on the top of his cock, moaning at the sensation. "I think about it when I touch myself." she dropped her voice to a whisper. "You know how many times I made myself cum in rehab thinking about that first time?" She smirked. "A lot." Max moved down his body, moving to kneel in between his legs, wanting to wrap her mouth around him again. She moaned around his length, pressing the blade to the top of his thigh. Her intention was to mix the pain with an edge and she planned on doing just that. So she focused on his cock, bobbing her head up and down bringing him closer and closer to the edge. "Remember, you're not a loud to cum. So you better tell me when you're close."

TW: cutting, knifeplay

HC; Every time Kolbe was on the verge of cumming, Max could press the blade into his skin and cut him on his hips and thighs just as his orgasm was ruined. She wanted to tie the two sensations together for the ultimate torture. They did that a total of 5 times before she let him cum, cutting him once more right above his pelvis bone as he fell over the edge, wanting to tie the sensation to something pleasurable as well.

#kolbe #para: kolbe #para: a reunion of sorts #( hooked on a feeling ; and that feeling is you )#tw: knifeplay

1 note · View note

cakesunflower · 6 years ago

Text

Fitoor [C.H. Multi-Shot] Part 1

This is part 1 of a 2 part multi-shot! Hope y’all enjoy! Happy reading!!

All Parts: Part 2

Fitoor—Obsession

She stepped up to the raised level where the bar was, the music around her pulsating and giggles still falling past her lips after dancing with her too drunk cousin who was all too ready to grind her ass against anyone willing. Her ring clad fingers ran through her waist length dark hair, letting out a breath as she tried to ignore the pinch in her feet due to her heeled ankle boots, the click of them against the glittering floor lost in the blaring music playing throughout the club. Even in her lacey, spaghetti strapped bodysuit and black denim shorts, a thin sheen of sweat collected on her body, her uninterrupted dancing and the warmth from the drinks she’d consumed two contributing factors.

Still, that didn’t stop her from approaching the busy bar, managing to squeeze herself between people and folding her arms on top of the bar, waiting to get the bartender’s attention. Blue lights flashed around the club in time with the beat of the music, the red lights of the floor and balcony railings for the second floor creating purple tints, nearly blinding her when they first arrived to the club but was now used to. Multiple times did she try to grab one of the bartenders’ attention, her calling voice lost in the songs, eager to get her drink and head back to the dance floor to her family, letting out an impatient huff when the guy headed down the other end of the bar as her words fell upon deaf ears.

Each failed attempt thinned her patience, lips pursing as she let out a sharp breath through her nose, accompanied by the quiet growl at the back of her throat as she glared at the bartender. Truthfully, she knew it wasn’t his fault; it was a busy night and there were loads of other people to serve. She just became a bit too impatient when she was tipsy, and so she exhaled slowly through her nose, shoulders relaxing as she tapped her nails on the sleek bartop.

“What’s your poison?”

The accented voice caught her attention for some reason, over the pounding music, looking over to her right. Maybe it was the fact that it sounded almost American, a vast difference from the heavy Dutch accents she’d been surrounded by since she arrived in Amsterdam last night. Or maybe it was the rasp that carried in his deep voice. The vague familiarity went over her somewhat hazy mind until she finally looked at the man, and through the reds, blues and purples of the club, it surprisingly wasn’t difficult to figure out exactly who was speaking to her.

The shock that rocked her body was well contained, managing even through her tipsy stupor to control her expression as she gazed at the dark and curly haired man, sitting with his arms folded on top of the bar yet dark eyes trained on her expectantly. For a second, she wondered if she was hallucinating, wondering what were the odds of running into the famous bassist at some random club in Amsterdam, of all places. But there was a heat radiating off of his casual gaze, his eyes glued to her with a subtle tilt of his head, colors flashing against his brown skin, and she understood that this was definitely real. That the heaviness she felt rest upon her body under the weight of his gaze was present and true.

Her lips parted, ignoring the drum of her heart as she managed to answer, “Henny and Coke.”

He nodded, head turning to face ahead as he raised a ring clad hand, easily catching the attention of the bartender who made his way over. The dark haired man stated her order over the sound of the music, and as the bartender began preparing it, she sucked in her lower lip before finding the lost words to say, “I appreciate it.”

“Not a problem.” His lips quirked slightly before turning on the stool, his body facing her as he held out his right hand and introduced, “Calum Hood.”

She resisted the initial urge to let the words I know slip from her mouth, instead swallowing them down and raising her own hand. “Sam Noor,” she smiled, feeling the air lock in her throat at the touch of her hand against his. His skin was warm, fingers calloused, as the soft clink of their rings was lost in their loud surroundings, and Sam could just barely ignore the current of electricity that shot up her arm and spread through her body like a wildfire when their hands held onto each other’s. One touch, and Sam’s stomach was in undoable knots.

He regarded her with intrigued dark eyes, looking up at her with his arm resting on the bar and a slight tilt of his head. Sam felt a flush in her cheeks as he stared at her, wanting to believe the heat that warmed her was due to the drinks she’d had and not the way his gaze seemed to penetrate her thoroughly. She tried not to shift on her feet, tried to think of him as just a random, handsome guy at a bar and not someone whose music she’s listened to and seen all over the Internet. But with a face like that, an alluring expression reading of quiet promises, Sam wasn’t sure how she was still standing on her feet.

“You’re American, yeah?” Calum questioned casually, hand wrapping around his own glass of whiskey as he propped his arm on his elbow. At Sam’s nod, he asked, “Here on vacation?”

He was starting a conversation with her, Sam lazily realized, feeling people shuffle around her as she remained standing in place, not at all wanting to move from where she was. It helped that his gaze kept her frozen in place. “Yeah, with my family,” she supplied, gesturing vaguely towards the dance floor where she had left them as if he had any idea who to look for. “I live in New York.”

The quirk of his lips widened just a smidge, remarking, “One of my favorite cities,” as the bartender slid over Sam’s filled glass. She tried not to track the way Calum’s finger trailed along the rim of his glass as he spoke, “There’s this dive bar I go to a lot, real small, off on fifth street called—”

“Sophie’s,” Sam cut in knowingly, surprisingly, her grin widening with excitement at the mention of one of her favorite places in her city. That particular dive bar consisted of many memories, none bad, and Sam’s heart leapt in her chest at the sight of Calum’s lips pulling back into a wider grin. Sam let out a slightly awed laugh, surprised at someone of Calum’s caliber being familiar with the grimey, tiny bar that she often frequented. “It’s my favorite bar. I go there all the time.”

Calum lifted his chin, looking up at her carefully, the colors flashing across his dark eyes and stirring something in the pit of Sam’s stomach. He was devastatingly handsome sitting in front of her; she’d seen pictures and videos of him on social media and TV, sure, skimming through them because she wasn’t one to take the time and indulge in celebrities and their lives. But the sight of Calum Hood was not one to be just glanced at; in that moment, Sam realized, she wanted to take her time and admire everything about him. He simply demanded it.

“Clearly not all the time, if I’ve never seen you there,” Calum rebutted, his smile playful, the muscle in his jaw jumping as his brown eyes trailed the length of her figure from her toes to her face, bringing the glass up to his lips and taking a sip, eyes never leaving hers. His mere gaze left electricity buzzing in Sam’s veins, throat drying at so blatantly being appreciated, trying to push away the thought of how it’d feel if he admired her with his hands rather than just his eyes. Sam refrained from biting her lip; he had nice hands.

Still, despite the thundering of her heart, Sam managed to keep the easy grin on her face, arching a perfectly plucked eyebrow as she gave a subtle shake of her head to push back her hair over her shoulder. She kept her smirk to herself when she noticed Calum’s eyes briefly admire the sight of her slender neck. “Well, when’s the last time you were there?”

He raised his own eyebrow at her question, eyes zeroing in on the way her lips wrapped around the thin black straw and she took a sip of her drink. The shift of his gaze wasn’t lost on Sam; it was like he wanted to take note of her every movement. It only intensified the buzz running through her. “Last June.”

Sam sucked in her teeth, hip resting against the bar and free hand playing with her straw as she offered a faux sympathetic smile. “Yeah, I was out of the country then,” she told him truthfully, grin returning because, hell, it was kind of hard not to smile at him. He kind of had some kind of silent, daunting aura around him, and maybe it was the drinks that were loosening Sam up, but she didn’t feel intimidated. Not when he was being so obvious about his intentions—all of which Sam was willing and able to live up to. “So sorry about that.”

“That’s unfortunate.” The music and everyone around them seem to die out just then, in Sam’s ears, her attention solely focused on the rasp of Calum’s voice, in the knowing tilt it carried as he watched her intently. He put down his glass, shoulders squaring as he leaned forward, hands resting on his knees as he smirked softly, “Could’ve done all this a lot sooner.”

It was increasingly becoming difficult to think over the pounding of her heart and the warmth she felt spread across her body, this time convinced it was due to the way he was looking at her. Both of them were well aware where this was going, both so willing for it to happen, but this was fun. This light teasing, playful flirting only deepened the anticipation and fueled the desire that was aching in Sam’s bones. And to know that this man—this unfairly attractive, talented, God-like of man—wanted her almost as badly as she did him and was painfully obvious about it, just made Sam feel all the more powerful.

“Could’ve done what?” she hummed, taking a step closer, the sides of her legs brushing against his knees. She kept her glass close to her, twirling the straw around and clinking the ice together as she kept her dark eyes trained on his. Sam wondered if he was admiring the colors flashing against her eyes the way she was with his own, felt the butterflies tickle her stomach when she felt his fingers brush up from her bare mid thigh to rest lightly on her hip. A simple touch had never been so welcome. She tried to find the words she wanted to speak, hoping to keep the coy, teasing tone ever present as she arched her brow once more and continued, “Buy me four dollar beer before I took you to my apartment as opposed to buying me a nine dollar drink and taking me back to your hotel room?”

The promise in her voice was obvious, an assurance that either way, no matter the circumstances, he would’ve bought her a drink and they would’ve ended up in between the sheets. Because when a man looked at her the way Calum was, like he had absolutely no eyes for anyone else in the room and that the entirety of his attention was only for her, be it for one night only, there was no way Sam was passing up the opportunity to see if his touch could light a fire in her the way his gaze was.

Her words prompted Calum to tighten his grip on her, and Sam bit the corner of her lip as his fingers dug into her through the thin, satin material of her body suit. His touch, despite being obstructed by her clothes, felt as though it was searing her skin, a delicious sensation Sam was desperate to feel more of as her heart continued to thunder with excited anticipation.

Calum scoffed out a short, breathy laugh as she remained standing in between his legs, innocently sipping her drink, and his eyes once again found her lips. Absently, his teeth sunk into his lower one as he watched her, and Sam felt something animalistic jerk inside of her. She’d never wanted to kiss someone so badly before. “We’re goin’ to my hotel then, huh?” he questioned, both thoughtful and curious.

Sam released her straw, one shoulder lifting in a shrug. She understood any underlying hesitance he may have; he was someone famous, someone with millions of fans around the world, and if she were him, she wouldn’t necessarily want some random hook up to know his hotel information, either. But they kind of didn’t have much of a choice. “I’m sharing mine with my cousin and we’re close, but not that close.”

Her words enticed a laugh from Calum, head dipping as his shoulders shook slightly, and Sam grinned at the husky sound while she continued sipping her drink. The bittersweet liquid, heavy on the burning bitter, warmed her core as she drank it. But, really, she was aching to be warmed by the musician in front of her. Sam’s hands itched to run through the dark of his curls, to feel the muscles hidden beneath the leather jacket, to find out if those lips felt as soft as they looked.

When he lifted his head, laughter dissolving into chuckles, Sam felt a squeeze in her chest because despite the colors washing over them, she could still make out the crinkles decorating the corners of his eyes as he grinned. Easily, then, Calum mused, “I think you’ve convinced me,” before downing the rest of his nearly finished drink and standing up, prompting Sam to take a small step back as her gaze followed him.

She looked up at him now, admiring his height because while at 5’4” many people were taller than her, Calum stood out. The muscles defining his arms under the leather jacket made him look big, his frame towering and domineering in the best of ways, and Sam bit the inside of her lip and tried to ignore the ridiculous thought running through her mind that had her yearning to climb him like a Goddamn tree.

“Really?” she found herself responding, clicking her tongue as the mischievous look flashed across her eyes, smirking when he cocked a brow. “I was all ready to persuade you and everything.”

He didn’t miss the expression that took over her face, Sam knew he didn’t in the way he shifted his jaw to the side, forehead smoothing out under the few curls that brushed across it. The subtle quirk of his lips told Sam he knew the answer of the question he was about voice, yet that didn’t stop him from knowingly inquiring, “How were you plannin’ on doing that?”

She was hoping he’d ask.

The smirk she sported widened just a bit as she closed the distance between them, watching as Calum’s eyes never leave hers until her front was pressed against his as she moved her glass out of the way. When her free hand came to rest on the back of his neck, finger tips teasing his curls, Sam’s heart was thundering against her ribcage along with the music beating around them as she noted the way his gaze dropped to her lips when she drew closer, not giving either of them much time to think as she captured Calum’s inviting lips in a kiss.

He tasted like the whiskey he’d drank, the taste burning her gloriously, as she sucked on his plump lower lip and felt him instinctively grip her hips to tug her closer. For a moment Sam was relieved he accepted her almost immediately, kissing him slowly and lazily, savoring the taste of him and enjoying the electricity that shocked through her body at the first touch of their eager lips.

They were no longer in the middle of a bustling club; all Sam could hear was the hammering of her heart and the only heat she could feel was ignited by the softness of Calum’s lips. She wanted him right then and there, stomach twisting into knots and fearing that her legs wouldn’t be able to support her as she felt the stubble on his chin rub against her, the sensation nearly drawing out an involuntary moan. Sam could feel herself melting into Calum, into the way he leisurely moved his lips against hers and dug his fingers into her body, just as unwilling to let go as she was. But to do what they both craved so desperately, they needed to get out of there first.

So Sam pulled away, breath a bit unsteady as her forehead pressed against his, Calum ducking his head to be able to do so. Her eyes remained closed, hand still on the back of his neck as she breathed out, somewhat shakily, too dizzy from the exhilaration of the kiss and using his grip on her hips to anchor her to reality. “Was I persuasive enough?”

His hands remained on her hips, giving them a squeeze, and Sam opened her eyes just in time as Calum pulled away, and a shiver ran down her spine at the fire dancing in his eyes she hadn’t seen before. His lips looked gently kissed, Sam’s mouth dropping open ever so slightly as she was overcome with the desire to kiss him again, desperately and bruisingly and noticeably. She craved it, especially when he kept his brown eyes on hers and swiped his tongue across his lower lip, licking off any lingering taste of her. The wolfish look in Calum’s eyes told her he craved her, just as badly, too.

And the way he reached up to grab her hand on the back of his neck, grip firm and promising, and tugged her in the direction of the exit, too desperate to give her a chance to put down her still full glass, answered her own question. Her method of persuasion had been, as it seemed, heavily effective.

*****

It was like sitting inside of a painting, the colors around him bright and vivid, everything appearing picturesque as Calum leaned back in his chair and let the heavy cloud of smoke curl out of his mouth slowly, inhaling it through his nose as he held the joint between his fingers. He sat comfortably, right ankle resting on the top of his knee as the sun rays danced in between floating clouds, though sunglasses still covered his dark eyes as he took in his surroundings.

They never got to do much of this while they were touring; a few hours in the day were taken out to go and see whatever city they were stopped in, but the anticipation of a concert to be put on later that night always lingered. It made things feel rushed, never really allowed Calum to truly stop and drink in the sights around him and actually take the time to appreciate where in the world he was. The fast paced lifestyle of being on tour was exciting and thrilling in its own way, a part of his life Calum was grateful for, but sometimes he just wanted to stop. He wanted to take a break and indulge in his surroundings, enjoy himself without worrying about running late for a soundcheck or interview. Which is why this band holiday, being in Amsterdam with his three best friends, was much needed and appreciated.

So he sat there in a coffee shop by a canal, a bitter cup of coffee on the small round table in front of him, a joint in hand, and Luke sitting across from him. They sat outside in a bustling neighborhood, boutiques and restaurants lining the streets along with residential areas up and down on either side of the canal where a boat or two would sift through every now and then. Old Dutch music was playing through the street as well, circulating the air like the neighborhood’s own soundtrack, and it relaxed Calum almost as much as the cannabis circulating his system. While smoking wasn’t entirely legal in Amsterdam, it still provided more freedom for Calum to be able to do so sitting outside a coffee shop and smoking at his own free will. He’d always loved Amsterdam.

“The fact that you wanted to smoke at ten in the morning should be concerning, but since we’re on vacation, ’m not gonna say anything.”

Calum rolled his eyes from under his sunglasses before looking at Luke, who was watching him with raised eyebrows as he nursed his own cup of badly made coffee. It was all part of the experience, wasn’t it? “That, in itself, was you sayin’ somethin’,” the bassist lazily pointed out, taking another hit.

Luke chuckled as he looked off at the canal to his right, elbows resting on the wooden armrests of the chairs and fingers linked together. “Can I say something about those, then?” he questioned, jutting his chin at Calum, who realized after a second of confusion that the blonde was referring to the few marks scattered around the skin of his neck. Calum knew exactly where they were, could still feel the electric tingles of where her lips had been the night before last; knew there was one right by his pulse point on his neck, another by his throat, and a few on his collarbones hidden under the material of his shirt.

The purple marks had been noticeable the very next day when Calum had woken up to an empty yet slept-in bed. And that had unnerved him; usually he appreciated when the girls left on their own accord instead of sticking around and forcing him to kick them out, but that morning when he woke up and Sam was nowhere to be found, Calum had battled a stab of disappointment he hadn’t expected. He pushed it away because it was only a one night thing. He’s done that loads of times before. This shouldn’t be any different.

Letting out an amused yet impressed laugh, Luke hummed, “We’d only been here for a day and you already managed to snag someone.” He raised his cup, dimples in full view as the sun peeked from behind clouds and the rays delicately danced upon the golden of Luke’s curls. “Good on you, mate. What was her name?” he asked before taking a sip of his drink, face scrunching up slightly at the taste.

“Sam,” Calum answered, her name rolling off his tongue in a smooth drawl, head tilting back slightly as he gazed up at the sky. He recalled, in that moment, how her name had fallen past his lips amidst satisfied curses and grunts the other night, and suddenly the sound of her breathless voice chanting his name like a prayer with her fingers tangling in his dark hair echoed throughout his mind. Calum’s throat worked, scratching his temple with his finger. “She’s visitin’ from New York.”

He thought of her, just then; thought of her dark eyes and silky hair and lips that worked him over expertly. He thought of how he’d woken the next morning with his back slightly stinging with the marks her nails had dragged down, and his stomach stirred as he thought of how her fingers had been tight in his hair as she pressed him closer to her and prettily moaned out profanities as he worked her over with his lips and tongue and took in everything she had to give him.

Calum tightened his jaw, throat working as he shifted slightly in his chair, feeling the subtle tightening of his pants his blood rushed and forced himself to think of anything but the way he’d fit so perfectly in Sam Noor.

At Calum’s words, Luke let out a snort while giving a shake of his head, and Calum raised his eyebrows questioningly as he took another hit. He felt the blunt burn the back of his throat familiarly, the haze he felt clouding him only gradually thickening as he lolled his head to the side, curious as to why Luke rolled his eyes once more. “You found a New York style cheesecake in the middle of Dutch delicacies,” Luke stated, snickering at his own analogy as Calum slowly furrowed his eyebrows. Shrugging his shoulders, Luke clicked his tongue. “You’re in Amsterdam, man.” He briefly held his arms out. “Expand your horizons.”

For a moment, Calum wondered if he’d taken too many hits and was too out of it to the point where he misheard Luke’s words. Had he just. . . Compared Sam to a New York cheesecake? His friend has said some pretty weird shit, but this was kind of ridiculous. Parting his lips, Calum gestured to Luke with the joint in his fingers, eyes narrowing as he debated, through his high, if Luke was being genuinely serious. “If Sierra heard you talkin’ about women like they were dessert, I think she’d give me full permission to kick you in the balls.” Calum paused, lips quirking into a smirk before correcting, “She’s short enough to do it herself, actually.”

“I—wh—no!” Luke sputtered out, letting out a short groan as he closed his eyes and bent his head to pinch the bridge of his nose. Calum stared at him with a raised eyebrow, amused at the blonde flustering, before Luke’s blue eyes looked at Calum and he quickly corrected, “I just meant that, like—”

“Stop talkin’ before you have an aneurism,” Calum cut in with a laugh of his own, taking pity on his friend trying to backtrack on his terrible choice of words. Luke let out a huff, running his fingers through his curls as he leaned back in the seat and tilted his head all the way back, facing the sky. Calum merely grinned, the smile coming easier to his lips thanks to the effect of the drug dancing around his system, shaking his head in pure amusement as he let his gaze wander.

The serenity that rested upon Calum was wholeheartedly welcome, watching his surroundings through hooded eyes as people ate and shopped and walked and rode bikes. He admired the colorful bushes of flowers by the bridges over the canal, let his head sway side to side gently in time with the music still playing around them, the smell of weed heavy and familiar and undisturbing. Calum let out a slow, satisfied breath as the sun shone down on them; everything felt so authentic, so real and waiting to be admired. It wasn’t like Calum never appreciated the beauty of the places he was in while he was on tour, but it felt different this time. This time, he could actually sit and smell the roses, so to speak.

His gaze trailed over the bridge over the canal closest to them, and suddenly Calum��s eyes narrowed as he tried to figure out what he was looking at. Left arm on the armrest, he used it to push himself up, raising his glasses to his forehead to look without the nonexistent obstruction of his sunglasses. A surprised scoff escaped him as he realized that he was, in fact, looking at Sam Noor leaning against the railing of the bridge and posing for pictures with another girl.

“No fuckin’ way,” Calum breathed out, watching the way as the girl and Sam wrapped their arms around each other, wide and happy grins on their faces as a guy, standing with two others, took their photos. He wondered if he was conjuring her up through his imagination, a daydream brought on by him constantly thinking of her since the night he met her—a fact he tried not to think of too much.

Luke’s head straightened. “What?” he asked, furrowing his brows at Calum’s disbelieving expression before looking over his shoulder and trying to follow his gaze. The bridge wasn’t that far, his eyes going in the right direction, though unsure of what he should be staring at. Impatiently, Luke prodded, “What’re you looking at?”

One blunt wasn’t enough to completely put Calum out of it, but he still blinked a few times to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. Honestly, he wasn’t sure why he was so shaken at the sight of Sam. Maybe it had to do with the disappointment he’d felt when he’d woken up to an empty bed, his unexpected desire for wanting her to still be there when the sun came up. Part of him had thought he wouldn’t see her again, just being allowed one night with the girl with pretty brown eyes and a gorgeous sunflower tattoo on her sternum he’d peppered with kisses and yearned to do so again.

“That girl on the bridge,” Calum murmured slowly, eyes still narrowed and lips quirking. She looked good, showing off her legs and long hair fluttering in the breeze. “The one in the yellow dress, she’s—that’s Sam.”

“Oh, shit,” Luke laughed, glancing at Calum and taking in the way the bassist couldn’t seem to tear his gaze away. And then, without allowing himself to think too much about it, to get too lost in his thoughts that would psych him out, Calum settled his glasses back on his face and stood up to his feet, causing Luke to raise his eyebrows. “What are you doing?”

Absently, Calum passed the joint to Luke, who took it in a haze of bewilderment as he expectantly looked up at Calum, who had yet to look away from Sam. “’M gonna talk to her,” was all Calum said before walking away from the table, feeling light on his feet as he went. He knew he wasn’t entirely sober, feeling a familiar heaviness take over his body that wasn’t as weighty as it could be, but was enough to remind him of the high that made his head feel a little bit in the clouds.

He wasn’t even sure what he was going to say and, frankly, that should’ve been enough to have Calum turning back around and letting Sam go about her day without him interrupting it. But it was like that night in the club all over again; he’d seen her on the dance floor, a wide grin on her face as she danced with, Calum realized as he approached them, the same guys and girl she was with right now. He’d wanted to go up and talk to her, but Calum wasn’t nearly as drunk to actually dance, so he stayed by the bar, taking in the sight of her from a distance and silently hoping to be able to do more than just watch.

And then she had come up to the bar, right next to him, and Calum seized the opportunity. It had, unsurprisingly, gone just like he had hoped.

It should’ve just been the one night, but looking at her right now in a yellow sundress with thin straps that stood out against her brown skin, lips pink and glossy and utterly kissable, Calum couldn’t bring it in himself to stay away. She stirred something in the pit of his stomach, tightened the muscles of his heart, and in the back of his mind he knew nothing would quell until he talked to her. At least once more.

He’d never been one to shy away from what he wanted physically. And that’s what this was. That’s what he kept telling himself this was.

He got to where they were in the middle of the bridge, standing in a circle and looking through the pictures just taken, and the breeze tickled Calum’s skin wonderfully as his voice drawled, “Guess this city’s not as big as it seems, huh?”

Sam’s head lifted from looking down at her phone, moving her head to look around one of the guys’ frame before her dark brown eyes landed on Calum standing just a few feet away. He saw the surprise that flickered across her face, eyebrows raising and lips parting, and it wasn’t until Calum felt the weight of her gaze where he finally considered what if she didn’t want to see him. What if the one night had been enough for her and that was it? Fuck, was he about to make a complete fool out of himself?

Her shock wore off, relatively quickly, and Calum watched with a tight throat as her expression softened into a smile. “It’s not New York, that’s for sure.”

The sight of her grin, one Calum hadn’t been able to get enough of that night, warmed his heart more than anything weed could do for him, relaxing his shoulders as he kept his hands buried in the pockets of his deep red bomber jacket. Remembering his manners, Calum looked at the four other people standing around, all staring at him in confusion and surprise, until his gaze landed on the other woman next to Sam as she leaned over to the slightly taller girl and, not too quietly, hissed out, “Is that Calum friggin’ Hood?”

Hearing her loud and clear, Calum let out a deep chuckle, shooting the incredulous woman a grin, who merely smiled back before looking at the other guys with widened eyes. Waving her off, Sam approached him as she crossed her arms over her chest, quirking an eyebrow. “Surprised you recognize me in broad daylight.”

Calum scoffed as someone rode by on a bike, though his attention was solely focused on Sam. The sun made her skin glow, golden tones dancing across her cheekbones as she peered up at him with long lashes, the sunlight glinting against the gold nose ring she had, and the breath caught in his throat as he gazed at her. Undeniably beautiful, is what she was; if he thought she was gorgeous in the flashing lights of the club, than looking at her under the brightness of the sun was downright overwhelming.

So many pretty faces he’d seen in his life on the road. Hers was one he’d be hard pressed to forget.

They stood close, so close but not enough, as Calum looked down at her without truly lowering his head. She smelt like a sweet mixture of shea and cocoa butter, a scent he’d gotten intoxicated by that night. With a lazy, boyish grin, Calum responded, “Can’t forget a smile like that.”

Her smile widened, biting into her lower lip as she questioned thoughtfully, “Are you normally this flirty or is it ’cause you’re high?”

Calum let out a short laugh at that, raspy in sound as he ducked his head and scuffed the toe of his Vans, raising his head to see her brown eyes watching him. The subtle flutter in his stomach was increasing by the second, the longer he spent in Sam’s presence. “’M normally an ass. The weed helps,” Calum answered through an easy smile, “gave me the push to come up and talk to you. Wasn’t entirely sure if you’d want me to.”

She gave a roll of her eyes. “You’re not an ass,” she said easily, as if she had the appropriate amount of history with him to sound so confident in her statement the way she did. Sam glanced over her shoulder briefly, nodding vaguely at her friends who took the hint and walked a few steps away, and she turned to look back at Calum with a tilt of her head. She squinted slightly, the sun reflecting in her eyes, curiosity dancing across her delicate features as her eyebrows subtly drew together. “And why wouldn’t I?”

“You left without sayin’ goodbye,” Calum responded, as if that was a reasonable answer, and in his mind it was. He refused to think about how desperate he sounded, hoping the causality in his tone would mask it. God, he didn’t know why he cared. He was practically an expert at one night stands, quite often preferred them and knew it was always better if one left before the other woke up to avoid awkward wake up calls. So why was he so persistent on this? What was so special about Sam?

He took one look at the girl in front of him and his throat tightened. He didn’t want an answer to that.

The surprise flickered across Sam’s eyes, the furrow in her eyebrows smoothing as her head straightened at his response. Her gaze averted momentarily, watching as a few people strolled by them as Calum licked his lips, fearful of his words sounding too. . . Attached. . . before her dark eyes met his once more. “I thought you’d appreciate my discretion,” she told him truthfully, her voice a murmur.

His teeth sunk into his lower lip, feeling the same kind of pull crackling between them like electricity the way he did at the club, and Calum understood one night with Sam hadn’t nearly been enough. He needed more. His body fucking craved it—craved her. That’s what it was, he was sure. The physicality of it all, nothing more. “Any chance I can appreciate it tomorrow night?” Calum questioned, his voice a smooth drawl. He was being forward, he knew, but he didn’t care. He was high and he didn’t care.

Sam looked at him, the insinuation in his words not at all lost on her, and her stomach did a flip of excitement as she took a quiet breath through her nose. The last thing she had expected when she booked her flight to Amsterdam was that she’d be screwing around with Calum Hood, but it was ridiculously funny how things worked out sometimes. It would, she knew, make for a memorable trip.

So she smirked, never one to shy away, as she lifted her chin and brushed her hair over her shoulder. Calum’s eyebrows raised a bit behind his sunglasses, waiting for an answer, and Sam briefly couldn’t believe she was doing this. But her heart was thundering and her body, admittedly, missed Calum’s touch, was desperate for it, and who was she to deprive herself of his expert fingers and sinful mouth? And with him standing there, the hickeys she’d left fading yet a physical reminder of their night together, she couldn’t resist. The confidence and coyness was clear in her voice as she responded with glimmering eyes, “You can appreciate it for the entire two weeks I’m here, if you’re up for it.”

Oh, she was going to be the death of him.

Calum pressed his tongue to the back of his lower teeth, lips curled up into an agreeing grin. He felt the kick of excitement at her proposition, the thrill much stronger than the high he was on, thanking God he was in Amsterdam for about two weeks too so he could make the most of this and her. It was all kind of strange, on Calum’s part; if he was being honest, these kinds of arrangements weren’t anything new for him. What was new was the toe curling anticipation he felt where Sam was concerned. Whatever the hell he was feeling wasn’t something he’d experienced in a long time; he felt a bit ridiculous for being so eager. The woman in front of him had some kind of effect on him and Calum just couldn’t fucking explain it. Physical, it’s only physical.

Still, he nodded with that boyish, eye crinkling grin and said, “I’m up for it.”

It felt so easy as Sam let out a gentle laugh, lips parting to speak up, only to be cut off by a girl’s voice calling out, “Samina, we’re gonna be late for the boat tour!”

Calum watched as she looked over her shoulder and called out “hold on!” before looking back him, and he blinked in realization over the revelation over her full actual name. “Samina,” he sounded before he could help himself, her name sweet on his tongue, and she looked up at him as he did so, her own lips lifting into a smile as she gazed at him promisingly. With a thoughtful mumble, he added, “’S pretty.”

“Sounds pretty when you say it,” Samina told him easily and, shit, Calum was really into how bold she was, how effortlessly she let him know exactly what she was thinking and didn’t at all shy away from what she wanted. Fuck, this was only his second interaction with her and already he was just. . . He didn’t even know what because her words brought such an idiotic grin to his face that he couldn’t even control it. Samina held her hand out and said, “Give me your phone; we can meet up later tonight.”

He pulled the device out of his pocket and unlocked it before handing it to Samina, who did the same for him to put in his own number. Calum did so easily, never really being one who felt hesitant on giving new people his number despite the risk of it getting out, feeling himself smile when he saw her wallpaper that consisted of a dark brown pitbull with bright blue eyes, looking directly into the camera with his tongue hanging out.

When they switched phones back, Samina’s eyes met Calum’s and she raised her eyebrows, pointing at him with her phone. “This is just a two week thing, alright?” she told him, gaze pointed as Calum blinked at her, a mixture of amused and surprised. Samina began walking backwards, the impatient calls from her family increasing. She flashed him a grin, dangerous and gorgeous as Calum held his phone in his hands. “What happens in Amsterdam, stays in Amsterdam.”

He understood that. Hell, he appreciated it. Despite the excited churn of his stomach and the tightness of his chest the sight of Samina brought, Calum wasn’t looking for anything more than a good time while he was in the Netherlands. Honestly, he was well aware that his mind hadn’t left him alone by bombarding him with thoughts of Samina, but he was convinced it was because he wanted more than just one fantastic night with her. Two weeks should be more than enough to satiate him before he got back to his hectic life. Calum knew once he was back home and thrown back into his face paced life consistent of band duties, he wouldn’t have a spare moment to think of the gorgeous girl from New York.

Two weeks was enough to have his fun with Samina before going back to reality.

So Calum scoffed out a chuckle and told her, “If it makes you feel any better, I’ll delete your number after two weeks.”

She grinned, the distance between them growing as the breeze blowing behind her had her hair flying over her shoulders, tickling her face. Raising her own phone in agreement, she called back, “I look forward to it.”

*****

“I should probably go,” Calum’s voice sounded from the bedroom, a sigh following his words, and Samina raised an eyebrow at her reflection in the mirror as she dried her hands. Pulling the door open the rest of the way, she leaned against the doorframe of the bathroom and shot Calum a questioning look, not at all shying away from admiring the naked man on her bed. He sat up against the headboard, tattooed chest and arms on full display with dark curls messily sitting atop his head, a combination of sex hair and bedhead, a delicious sight against the white of the bedset. He raised his hand, running it through his hair as the muscle of his tattooed bicep flexed and he said, “Yasmin probably wants to be back in her room. I feel bad that we’ve kicked her out.”

Samina let out a soft chuckle at his words, glancing at the empty and made up double bed next to the one Calum was occupying. Pushing herself away from the door, she approached the bed, smirking slightly as she saw Calum’s hungry gaze take her in, unbothered with the desire swimming in his eyes. She was in nothing but his black Conway Studios shirt, dark hair over one shoulder, and she felt her unwavering confidence merely intensify under his intense stare.

He was looking at her like he couldn’t wait to have a taste despite the fact that they both had woken up just minutes before, and Samina’s stomach tightened into excited knots at the hope of giving him exactly what he wanted. “Don’t feel bad,” she told him, flashing a smile as she climbed onto the foot of the bed, sitting on her knees. “She’s sexiled me a bunch of times. I’m only returning the favor.”

Her cousin, well aware that Calum would be arriving, had gathered whatever she’d need for the night and the morning and promptly gone to her older brother’s room across the hall. Samina had made a mental note to pay for lunch today as a way of thanking them for letting her have her fun.

Calum raised his eyebrows, lips tilting into a small amused smile, and Samina would have to be blind not to think how good he looked. Sitting there, just a few minutes after waking up and speaking in a voice hoarse from lack of use and brown eyes ever so slightly sunken in from sleep, a healthy pink flush in his round cheeks. The white bed sheets were gathered at his hips, his wallet and phone discarded on the table between the two beds, looking utterly comfortable where he sat. It tightened a knot in Samina’s stomach, gazing at him and the few marks scattered across the skin of his collarbones and neck. Marking him, she realized belatedly, was becoming a favorite pastime of hers. He was a picture to be painted. Head still leaned back, Calum tilted it to the side before asking, “So basically you’re fuckin’ me to get back at her?”

Samina laughed at the teasing tone in his voice, admiring the glint in his dark eyes and wondering if it was there because he felt as lighthearted as she did or because of the sunlight peeking through the dark purple curtains of her hotel room. She crawled closer towards him, movements slow and purposeful as she said in a honeyed tone, “Revenge is sweet.”

When she got close enough, Calum reached forward and grasped the side of her neck before his hand slid to the back of it just as quickly, pulling her towards him and silencing her surprised laugh by slanting his lips over hers. He kissed her almost bruisingly, feeling her hand press against his chest and likely feel the thrum of his heart as he nipped and sucked at her lower lip, tasting the vanilla flavored chapstick she wore. “I know somethin’ sweeter,” Calum mumbled against her lips, tone gruff and daring as he pulled away slightly, both of them breathing each other in, his lips brushing against hers as he added, “Want you to sit on my face, doll.”

His words prompted a shudder to pass through Samina, the smile wiping from her face as she bit her lower lip when Calum pulled away completely and shifted lower on the bed to lay on his back. She could already pathetically feeling her bones begin to tremble just at his command. Her lack of underwear came in handy, pressing her lips together when Calum let out a groan as she settled her legs on either side of his head and hovered over him, hands gripping the top of the sleek headboard in preparation for what was about to come.

This wouldn’t be the first time she’d felt his mouth on him. It was because she knew what he was capable of that had her heart already erratically beating in her chest, the anticipation of feeling his lips where she desperately craved overwhelming.

Calum’s fingers trailed up her bare thighs, goosebumps being raised by the light touch, his hot breath tickling her gloriously as he dragged hot lazy kisses up the inside of her thigh. Samina could already feel the subtle scratch of his stubble, breath hitching in her throat as his large, warm hands slid up to grasp her hips and, without a word, was tugging her down until his mouth was right on her heat.

She inhaled sharply, eyes shutting and head tilting back at the sensation of Calum’s tongue licking through her folds, feeling the appreciative hum he released vibrate through her body as he got a taste. Samina’s grip on the headboard tightened, knuckles white, as she felt plump lips wrap around her bundle of nerves, paying special attention to it as her left hand instinctively reached down to tangle her fingers in his thick curls, parted lips allowing for a sinful moan to pass.

Every nerve in her body was standing on its end as Calum’s mouth worked her over, fingers digging into her hips almost bruisingly, his skin searing into hers as Samina’s heart pounded in her ears. She felt him deep in her, not for the first time, knowing exactly what to do with his mouth as he licked at her expertly. Samina felt lost in him, in way he made her feel, not for the first time, dizzy and overwhelmed.

“Taste so good, love,” Calum mumbled against her, his throaty voice resonating in her chest and body clenching as his hands teasingly trailed up and down her sides. Her grip on his hair tightened and he groaned into her, and Samina’s closed eyes tightened and her heart damn near burst out of her chest. “So pretty like this.”

She ignored the voice in the back of her mind that told her she’d stay like this forever if she could.

*****

“I can’t believe you’re just. . . Casually having sex with Calum Hood,” Yasmin scoffed as they walked along the pathway, careful not to get in the way of bike riders as she ate from her small cup of ice cream.

Samina shot her a look, plastic spoon in hand so she could scoop out her own frozen treat. “It’s just for while we’re in Amsterdam,” she reminded her cousin, the round framed sunglasses settled on her face preventing her from being blinded by the sun peeking through the trees. It was a beautiful day, sunny with little to no clouds in the sky, and she was strolling through Vondelpark with her family as their first week in the city came to an end. One more and then they’d be going home. “Like, the smallest of summer flings,” she added dismissively after swallowing a mouthful of chocolate ice cream.

Yasmin rolled her light brown eyes, not having any of Samina’s attempts of waving off what she was doing. “Whatever it is, it’s still with Calum Hood. That’s crazy.” Then, after a moment, Yasmin let out a gasp before facing Samina and asking excitedly, “Are you gonna become a groupie?”

Her question could be heard by their brothers walking ahead of them, laughter erupting from them as Samina’s jaw dropped and eyebrows drew together indignantly, a bit affronted that Yasmin would even ask her that. “What? No!” she denied with a huff, clicking her tongue as her grip on the plastic spoon tightened. “I told you, it’s only while we’re here. When we get back to America, it’s over.” She shot Yasmin an insulted look. “Pagal.” (Pagal = stupid).

With a disbelieving shake of her head, Yasmin looked down at her ice cream as she scooped some up in her spoon and hummed unconvincingly, “How you can just smash and forget about someone like him, I don’t even know.”

Samina chuckled, eyes shifting to the body of water to her left, glittering under the bright sun. “I’m sure I’m not the only girl who’s had to do that with Calum.”

Yasmin clicked her tongue. “I don’t care about the other girls. I care about you. Meri behen who is sleeping with Calum Hood,” she added, her voice dropping to a dramatic, thrilled whisper as she leaned towards Samina to say it. (Meri been = my sister).

Bumping her hip against Yasmin’s as she snorted, “Oh, God, chup ho jao,” which only served to make her cousin giggle. (Chup ho jao = be quiet/shut up).

The five of them found a nice spot by the water, settling down on the grass under a tree that provided optimal shade because of Samina’s dislike of being in the sun for too long. The grass tickled Samina’s bare legs thanks to her shorts, but she enjoyed it, just like she enjoyed the cool breeze hitting her over the body of water ahead of them. Sitting cross legged, Samina admired the view in front of her, listened to the vague sounds of people all around her enjoying the beautiful day, and she let out a wistful sigh.

Amsterdam was so bright and colorful, and while New York had its own beauty that she couldn’t live without, Samina knew she was going to miss being in the Netherlands when she went back home. She hadn’t been out of the country in a while, the last time being when she was about twenty and she’d visited Turkey with her parents and brother. But being in Amsterdam with just her brother and cousins gave her a lot more freedom, which, okay, she had when she lived in New York, but being a whole country away had its own fun.

“Hey, appa, it’s your friend,” her brother, Ali’s, voice sounded, the suggestivity he held in his tone not missed by any of them as they followed Ali’s gaze. (Appa = big sister).

Samina’s back straightened at the sight of Calum making his way over, dressed in black pants and a peach Elvis shirt, accompanied by his band mates. She bit the inside of her lower lip at the sight of him and his unruly curls, his dark eyes obscured by his sunglasses. For a moment Samina had forgotten that she’d told Calum he and his friends were welcome to join them on their park outing after asking her family if it was okay with them, and Calum had agreed.

It was a short term friendship they had formed, Samina understood. They screwed around but were friendly, even so far as hanging out together with all of their friends—Yasmin had a field day meeting all of 5 Seconds of Summer, and Samina had been proud that her cousin saved her freak out until they were in the quiet of their shared hotel room.

Truthfully, Samina enjoyed Calum’s company—how could she not? The two of them talk quite a bit when they’re together, casually getting to know one another laying in bed after they were both spent, or out on the balconies of their respective hotel rooms as Calum pulled out his packet of cigarettes. He talked about the band and his music and his dog, talked about everything with passion in his voice and a bright glimmer in his eyes that had Samina listening intently. Calum absolutely loved what he did, Samina could tell just by the way he spoke of it, and frankly, she loved listening to him talk. Could do so for hours.

She’d listen to him, and as they’d sit on the balcony of his hotel room drinking mimosas that he’d ordered from room service just because he could, Calum would listen to her tell him some things about her own life. He’d scroll through pictures of her dog, Jax, and coo over how adorable he was, and take in every word she spoke about her dream job of working as a writer for a successful beauty care magazine. It was so easy with him, Samina couldn’t help but think. There were no awkward moments or pauses, conversation flowing easily whether they were in bed or in the shower, soft giggles and amused chuckles sounding as he’d watch her do her makeup or he’d screw around and pull some questionable dance moves in the room when the music was playing and he was just in his boxers and an undone button up.

She was comfortable with him, too much so over just the short amount of time she’d known him, and it was. . . Disappointing that all of it would just be a memory of Amsterdam after they parted ways.

The four Australians reached them, all sounding their friendly greetings and doing that guy handshake thing with her cousins and brother before settling down on the grass with them. “Hey,” Calum greeted her with an easy grin, settling next to her as he crossed his legs. Up close, she could make out his eyes from behind the lens of his sunglasses, and caught the way he gave her a once over, taking in her denim shorts and a colorful striped crop top. “You look pretty.”

Samina grinned, the compliment blushing her cheeks and making her heart jump, but she didn’t let any of that show save for the brilliant smile she shot him. “Flattery will get you everywhere,” she promised, still beaming as she wrapped her lips around a spoonful of ice cream and everyone dissolved into their own conversations.

He returned her smirk, leaning back against the thick trunk of the tree raising his cup of iced tea and bringing the straw to his lips as he teased, “I’m well aware.”

She let out a startled laugh through a dropped jaw, eyes widening as Calum dissolved into snickers and she bumped her shoulder against his. “Shut up,” Samina shook her head, the grin still on her face as Calum leaned into her as she straightened, arms still pressed together, the scent of his no doubt expensive cologne wafting over her. She felt the warmth of his body seep into her where their arms touched, neck tensing as she looked down at her ice cream before scooping some into her spoon and looking at Calum. “Want some?”

“Chocolate?” At Samina’s nod, Calum opened his mouth and she snorted in amusement, holding the spoon out and watching as his lips wrapped around it and ate off the ice cream. His eyes were trained on hers, looking at her over the rim of his sunglasses, and even with them being shielded from the sun she could see the glint in his eyes that made her stomach tense.

“Ballsy move on your part,” Samina found herself saying once the spoon was returned to her, quirking an eyebrow as Calum’s throat worked to swallow the ice cream. “What if you were caught by the paparazzi?” she asked in mock horror, widening her eyes dramatically before falling into giggles, unable to keep a straight face.

Calum snorted, unfolding his legs to bring his knees up to his chest, head leaning back against the tree. “We’ve barely been photographed while we’re here. Amsterdam is one of the chillest places we’ve ever visited.” He smirked once more, looking over at Samina as he added, “Our secret’s safe.”

Samina raised her eyebrows, her smile playful as she joked, “You mean you don’t wanna be seen with a pretty Pakistani girl?” She scoffed with a roll of her eyes, tossing her hair over her shoulder before shrugging. “Your loss.”

He laughed, amusement lighting up his face as he rested his arms on his knees, hands still holding onto his cards as he ducked his head towards her, eyeing her expectantly. Samina leaned towards Calum as he lowered his voice, as if he was about to tell her a secret, and murmured, “Want the pretty Pakistani girl to myself. I suck at sharing.”

His words brought a fierce heat to Samina’s cheeks, throat drying at the effect he had on her. But she grinned anyway as he smiled, charming and boyish, satisfied with his answer, as she watched her cousin Daniyal, or Danny as he preferred, pull out a deck of cards and asked the group if anyone was down to play something. So they rearranged the way they were sitting, forming a circle to easily play. Samina picked up the cards she was dealt, pressing them to her chest and leaning away from Calum as he tried to get a look at her hand, and the grin on her face couldn’t be wiped off if she tried as he laughed an adorable laugh that was equal parts deep and breathy.

Samina looked around, the smile on her face turning fond yet lessening as she realized as fun as this was, it was only temporary. She glanced at Calum, who was laughing at something Ali had just said, crinkles by his eyes and cheeks pushed up happily, and Samina expertly ignored the tug in her chest. Temporary.

Refusing to think of the times she and her family joined Calum and the guys for lunch or to bars because they all truly got along was going to be difficult. Trying not to think of how in a week’s time, all of this would be a mere memory and she’d never get to feel Calum’s lips on hers or his hands memorizing her body was slowly but surely becoming something she wasn’t too sure she’d be capable of doing.

A fling was all that she wanted, nothing more, as did he. She was sure she could handle it.

Despite her heart jumping every time she heard Calum laugh, or feeling her skin burn wherever he touched it, Samina repeatedly told herself that she could handle it. Reminded herself she didn’t have time for anything more than what they agreed upon. It would never work anyway.

Her with a man as talented and demanded as Calum? The fact that she was sleeping with him in the first place was utterly ridiculous. Nothing more would come of it.

Samina’s eyes slid over to Calum, who was gazing down at his hand of cards with a look of adorable concentration on his face, before he felt her gaze upon and him looked at her. He smirked, leaning away ever so slightly as he teased, “Hey, quit lookin’.”

She let out an absent chuckle before dropping her gaze back to her own cards, teeth pressing together as she suppressed the disenchanted sigh threatening to escape. Eventually, all she would be able to do was look. She’ll only be able to look at pictures and videos of him, unable to feel him against her the way she got to do now. It left a bitter taste in her mouth, and no amount of chocolate ice cream would be able to sweeten it.

*****

They faced each other, the last of the two who had yet to say goodbye, standing in the middle of the bustling airport before they went their separate ways to their separate gates. Samina wasn’t going to lie—to herself, at least—but she felt a subtle weight settle on her chest as she gazed at Calum. Her two weeks in Amsterdam had been the best she’s ever had, the freedom she got to take part in with her brother and cousins a taste she’d never forget. And the time she got to spend with Calum, which, admittedly, was a lot more than she’d spend with any casual fling, had been dizzying. Actually hanging out with him and his bandmates hadn’t been part of the plan, but when things just happened, she went with the flow, and Samina was glad she did.

But now there were here, standing in the middle of Amsterdam Airport Schiphol, about to turn their backs on one another to go back to their respective homes and leave Amsterdam behind them. It was almost funny, Samina considered, that they happened to be leaving on the same day with their flights just a few minutes apart.

“What happens in Amsterdam, stays in Amsterdam, right?” Calum spoke up, smiling down at her with a raise of his eyebrows. She tried not to think of how cosy he looked, dressed in grey sweats and the black Conway Studios shirt she’d worn just recently, a backpack on along with a cap covering his dark hair.

She returned the easy smile, hand gripping the handle of her carry-on suitcase, as he repeated her words back to her. Samina, honestly, felt a tug in her heart as she thought of the realization that, yeah, this was it. This was what they agreed on. Fooling around in the haze of Amsterdam before they were taken back to reality. Hell, it had been her idea and, for the most part, she’d been perfectly content with that.

So she expertly ignored the dullness she felt at the inevitability of saying goodbye.

“Right,” Samina responded with a breathy smile, throat working as she pulled out her phone and unlocked it. Her dark eyes met Calum’s, quirking an eyebrow as she asked with a subtle laugh, “Shall we?”

Knowing exactly what she was talking about, Calum let out a breathless chuckle of his own and pulled out his phone, the lack of case something that made Samina extremely nervous. Samina turned her attention to her own device, looking down at it as the smile on her face faltered ever so slightly when her gaze turned to Calum’s contact on her phone. She’d already deleted their text conversations, that in itself making her stomach twist uncomfortably, and deleting his number would just make it even more real. Confirm the fact that after this, they wouldn’t be seeing each other again unless they happened to run into each other randomly, and even that was a slim chance.

God, did she even want to see him again?

Samina’s gaze briefly flickered up at Calum, who was looking down at his own phone with dark curls falling over his forehead, and swallowed the tiniest of lumps that had formed in his throat. Of course she wanted to see him again. But she wouldn’t and, Samina knew, with time she’d learn to be okay with it.

She looked at her phone and pressed delete.

“So this is it.” She looked up and saw Calum looking at her, a small close mouthed smile on his lips as he pocketed his phone, and Samina wondered if he was experiencing the same confusing, conflicting feelings that were mucking up her mind and heart. Did he also feel this weird sensation of wanting to stay, of wanting just a minute longer? Or was she the only one unsure of what she was feeling? His smile widened a fraction as he said sincerely, “I had a lot of fun, Samina, and not just. . .” He trailed off with a near sheepish laugh, ducking his head as he did so because he didn’t exactly want to say what he was going to, and it brought a smile to Samina’s face too, despite the weight settled on her shoulders. Calum looked back up, brown eyes meeting brown, as he added, “I enjoyed gettin’ to know you.”

For a moment, she wanted to tell him that they didn’t get to know each other, not really. They talked about their pets and their careers, with speckles of conversations dedicated to their families, but that was it. They’d barely scratched the surface in all of the talks they had. Samina knew it was because that what they had was casual, a fling that had no real depth in it, so there really was no point in divulging their life stories to one another—especially Calum’s, whose life for the most part was out there for the world to look into. It was understandable he kept whatever privacy he had left to himself, and she never really expected for him to let her in on more than just an acquaintance level. Casual, casual, casual.

They didn’t really know each other. All they knew was each other’s bodies, what made them tick, what was good for them. They knew each other physically. That had been the plan. Samina ignored the seed of disappointment that was planting itself in her heart.

And despite the thoughts running rampant in her mind, she didn’t dare let it show.

So she faked it. “Same here, Mr. Rockstar,” Samina responded, grinning teasingly as he scoffed out a laugh. Her smile softened, lips pursing momentarily as she said, “I’d say hit me up if you’re in New York, but—”

“What happens in Amsterdam, stays in Amsterdam,” he repeated knowingly, his own smile lessening ever so slightly as he fixed his cap, and Samina took in a breath. When those words had been playful when she first uttered them, in this moment, they wrapped around her heart like a fist and squeezed almost painfully.

Overhead, an accented voice announced that Samina’s flight would start boarding soon, and her eyes met Yasmin’s who looked at her expectantly. “Say hi to Sophie’s for me.” Calum’s words dragged Samina’s gaze back to him and she let out a soft chuckle. “And have a safe flight.”

“You too,” she returned, surprised that her voice didn’t get as tight as she felt it being, taking a breath. This was it. She ignored the ache of wanting to stay, of wanting to feel his kisses once more, forcing a smile onto her lips.

Calum let out a breath and Samina wasn’t sure why she was so surprised when he ducked and pulled her in for a hug, arms wrapping around her shoulders as her cheek pressed against his chest. It shocked her, despite having given him casual hugs before, but this was different. This had her wrapping her arms around his waist as she pressed her hands against his lower back below his backpack, eyes closing as she was engulfed in his strong arms and familiar scent.

She could feel his cheek pressing against the top of her head, and Samina’s throat tightened as her eyebrows knitting together slightly. The acknowledgment of never being able to feel this again sat heavily in the pit of her stomach, dried her throat as they held each other one last time. Yet, somehow, this felt more intimate than anything else they’d done. And that hurt.

They pulled away reluctantly, both acutely aware of their friends looking at them, though they paid them no mind. Calum’s hand was on the spot where her neck met her shoulder, where it once had been in much more incriminating circumstances, and his thumb rubbed at her skin briefly as he gave her a smile and let go. “Bye, Samina.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck, she didn’t want him to let go.

She held onto the handle of her carry-on once more, her grip tight to anchor herself as a way of ignoring the turbulent emotions she was trying so hard not to acknowledge. Emotions she wasn’t supposed to be feeling in the first place and kept telling herself that Calum wasn’t feeling them at all. Maybe that would make it easier, to know it was all in her head, that it was unrequited.

Samina took a step back, offering a gentle smile, not the brilliant ones that made his heart jump into his throat. Though, even the smallest of grins had his breath rushing out of his lungs, if he was being honest. “Bye, Calum,” she returned softly and, with a bite of her lower lip, turned around and followed her family to where their gate was.

Calum stood, watching her go, feeling his friends step up around him. He tried to look away from her retreating figure, told himself that it was stupid of him to expect for her to look back. Yet he stayed put with his heart in his throat and a chant of come on, come on, come on being whispered through his mind, hoping she’d turn around. What that’d do for him other than just twist his heart, Calum wasn’t sure. Still, he yearned for it. Just one last look.

“It’s okay to want to miss her,” Ashton spoke, his tone quiet and understanding.

Calum watched her go, watched her turn the corner and disappear from his sight, and his stomach dropped like a rock, disappointment flooding him as he told himself almost immediately what an idiot he was. Why would she look back? It was pathetic of him to expect her to do so.

He took a step back, hands gripping the straps of his backpack and eyes still looking where she had disappeared, the heat of his friends’ gazes burning his skin. Calum’s throat worked and jaw tightened, and he took a breath. “There’s nothin’ to miss.”

tags: @irwinkitten @glitterprincelu @sweetcherrymike @meetashthere @valentinelrh @softforcal @astroashtonio @hereforlukescruff @novacanecalum @captain-what-is-going-on @angelbbycal @singt0mecalum @hopelessxcynic @lfwallscouldtalk @bodhi-black @findingliam-o @softlrh @calntynes @calumsmermaid @erikamarie14 @quintodosuniversos @longlastingdaydream @babylon-corgis @lukehemmingsunflower @spideyseavey @imfuckin10plybud @livibii123 @pastelpapermoons @malumharmonies @conquerwhatliesahead92 @rotten-kandy @metangi @neigcthood @ohhmuke @old-zeppelin-shirt @5sos-and-hessa @trustmeimawhalebiologist @vxlentinecal @pettybassists @vaporshawn @lu-my-golden-boi @heartbreak-5sos @thew0rdneedsmcreycghurt @visualm3nte @isabella-mae13 @dontjinx-it @lifeakaharry @neonweeknds @antisocialbandmate @ixcantxdecidexwhosxmyxfave @calpalbby @grreatgooglymoogly @sunnysideblog @cocktail-calum @miahelizaaabeth @madelynerin @dramallamawithsparkles @hzi0 @aulxna @mermaiden004 @theagenderwhocriedwolf @kaytiebug14 @hoodskillerqueen @bitchinbabylon @empathycth @xhaileyreneex @inlovehoodx @calistheloml @aestheticrelated @hoodsmelancholy @iplaybassfor5sos @josierosie @cal-pal-cuddles @calsophat @cashton-queen @sublimehood @bloodlinecal @flannelpunkcalum @ghostofch @ghostofhood @5sos-stan4lyfe

637 notes · View notes

neo-culture-mafia · 6 years ago

Text

She’s Mine (l.ty)

Requested: Yes

Warnings: |Cuteness| |Some Swearing|

Songs Listened to While Writing: She’s Mine by VAV (SONG IS A BOP [another group who shouldn’t be slept on]) Her by Block B

I made a bunch of scenarios to make up for me killing people in my writing...so sorry...again. But I hope you enjoy!!💚

--------

You got ready to go out with all the rest of the girlfriends from the unit. Taeyong had gone to an important business meeting with the rest of the 127 unit, so he was gone for at least another day. You were taking your small window of freedom and you were running with it.

Your makeup, hair, and outfit were perfect for the feeling of a night time club. You twirled yourself down the hall in your favorite pair of heels; the clanking sound echoing on the marble floor. You twirled a final time, putting your hand on the front door handle, so close to freedom.

"Where is my princess going so late at night?" You heard from behind you. Your shoulders instantly fell as you leaned your head on the wooden door. You softly banged your head against the door in order to wake yourself up from this 'nightmare'. Yet, a hand was met in between your forehead and the door. "Don't do that, you'll hurt yourself, honey." He said and you whined.

"I wanted to go out with the girls." You said motioning to the door. "But I'm home early and wanted to spend a night in with you." He said grabbing your waist and pulling you closer, using his big pouty eyes to lure you into his loving trap.

"And plus," he began trailing a finger down your neck and across your exposed collar bone. "I should be the only one to see you in this type of outfit."

-----------

You danced around the kitchen in one of Taeyong's hoodies he left for you to wear; always freshly sprayed with his cologne.

He came home early from a mission, so you sent him to take a nap while you cooked a nice hearty dinner for the both of you to share together. The music blasted in the kitchen so only you could rock out and not disturb your sleepy husband.

Yet, your fooling around left you with a burnt hand; you had completely missed the pans handle and touched the hot iron of the pan itself. Your yelp broke through the music as you clutched the hand to your chest.

In less than 10 seconds, you were in the arms of Taeyong who had woken himself up from your whimper of distress.

"Let me see." He gently grabbed your hand. You whimpered at the lightest touch. "Here, let's run it under cold water." He said picking you up with one arm and setting you on the cold marble counter next to the sink.

He had to gently pry your hand away from your chest. He turned on the water, and slowly brought your hand under the stream. You yelped again, your hand retracting to your chest as your body turned so you were fully on the counter. Your legs were folded like a 5 year old as silent tears welled into your eyes.

The water was shut off. "Awe my baby." He said grabbing the back of your knees and pulling you to the edge of the counter. He situated himself between your legs and rubbed your arm and thigh soothingly. "Awe don't cry baby girl." He whined along with you, his thumb coming up to wipe your already fallen tears away.

"We have to wash it off, baby." He said and you sighed, knowing it had to be done now rather than later.

Your hand was now independently hovered under the non-running faucet. You squeezed your eyes shut and looked the other way. "I'm ready." You said and you heard him chuckle. "You're too cute." He said lightly pinching your cheek.

He held your hand away from the faucet as he set the temperature. "What are you making for dinner, baby?" He asked and you though for a moment. "Chicken...and vegetables...and noodles...and-" "Done." You heard him say.

You looked to him quickly where he held your soaking wet hand. "Already?" You asked in shock. He patted your hand dry. "Yep." He spoke before kissing your palm sweetly.

He grabbed your waist and pulled you down gently. He leaned against the counter and ran a hand through his hair. "Now go relax while I finish dinner." He said holding your hip loosely. You pouted, pointing to the food you were making. "But-" "No 'buts'...go relax and I'll tell you when you need to wash up because dinner is almost ready. I don't want you getting burned anymore." He said letting go of your waist and putting his hands behind him on the counter.

You opened your mouth to fight against him, but his cocked eyebrow made you rethink. He was ready to fight against anything you had to say. Once you realised this, you shut your mouth quickly.

You sighed and turned away to go out of the kitchen. "You're forgetting something, little lady." He said and you turned back around, stomping over. You leaned up and pecked his lips before running out of the kitchen and into the living room.

-----------

You were with Taeyong at one of the usual business parties he had with other groups in the area.

He was surrounded with men he held close to him, and you were with other women of the business.

Taeyong always told you to stay with 2 other people he trusted, or stay within his eye sight. You agreed, knowing you could never win against his wanting of protection for you.

So when the 2 girls you were with had to leave with their husbands, it was time for you to start heading back to Taeyong.

He didnt even falter when he felt your presence next to him, if anything it looked as if he relaxed even more. His hand instinctively found your waist and his hand gripped lightly. "Men, I'd like you to meet my beautiful wife, y/n." He introduced you. You bowed politely and sweetly. "Wow. You are so well mannered compared to other women of the business." One of the men said and the others hummed in agreement.

"Well one thing me and my wife model to our members -- of all ages, is respect. We would go no where without it." Taeyong said and you nodded, ultimately agreeing with him.

After a few minutes of the men talking, you were thirsty. You tugged on Taeyong's suit jacket lightly. "I'm thirsty. I'm going to go get a drink." You whispered in his ear once he leaned down a little for you to speak quietly.

"Okay, just make sure to stay where I can see you." He said and you nodded. He kissed your cheek softly and you were off to the bar to get a water; not wanting the burning of alcohol in your throat tonight.

You called the bartender over. "One water please." You asked and he nodded, going to the end of the bar for the water.

You scroll through your phone, messaging some of your friends what you had been up to lately. The man returned with a glass of water. You picked it up and was about to take a sip, before the cup was in the hand of your husband.

"Why don't you drink it?" Taeyong asked, his death stare coming out towards the man. He made sure you never saw this side of him, for the fear of scaring you...and it did scare you.

Taeyong's hand found yours under the bar, where he put you behind him a little bit. "...uh..." the man stopped at your husband's request. "What did you put in her drink?" He asked and you finally understood what was going on.

"N-nothing. How dare you accuse me of doing such a thing!" The man yelled, getting everyone's attention in the gala room.

"...then drink..." Taeyong cocked his eyebrow at the man.

The man just looked down to the ground. "I can't do that." The man spoke softly. Like lightning both Taeyong and the man pulled out guns toward each other, causing the rest of Neo Culture to run to their leaders side.

Taeyong still held your hand tightly. "You mess with her...you mess with us...you mess with me." Tae seethed and it was shocking to see this new side to him. You knew he cared...just never this much.

"Mark, Hyuck. Take y/n home and make sure she is alright and not hurt anywhere." "Got it, boss." They both rushed to your side, ushering you out of the gala where people stood shocked at the stand off.

---------

You walked around the house, reading a book while making twists and turns through the hallways. Yet, you missed the corner and stubbed your pinky toe on the corner of the turn.

You dropped your book and held your foot. Taeyong's office door opened and he rushed out, reading glasses still on. "You okay?" He asked holding you steady on one foot. "Y-yeah. Just...stubbed my toe is all." You waved him off.

"Awe my poor clumsy baby." He said helping you stand on your uninjured foot. "Hey!" You turned quickly and ended up landing on your butt like a 3 year old, both legs outstretched infront of you. "As I said..." He trailed off, picking you up in his arms. He walked across the house to the bedroom and threw you on the bed softly.

"It's 1 pm...take a nap so you can't hurself you big baby." He kissed your forehead. "...im not a baby..." You pouted. He started walking out, "Yeah whatever you say...baby." He mumbled. You groaned but decided a nap wouldn't be the worst.

~~~~~

You woke up, the pain in your small toe minimized to a dull ache. You got up, rubbing your eyes and seeing it was 4:30. You got up and slipped on one of Tae's hoodies that was laying on the arm chair in the room.

You opened the door and walked down the hall to be met with a chaos. EVERY SINGLE CORNER IN YOUR HOME WAS BUBBLE WRAPPED.

"Taeyong!" You yelled, walking down to his office. You didn't bother knocking and walked straight in.

"You basically baby proofed the whole entire house?!" You screamed and he had a smirk on his face. "Yeah...so you can't get hurt anymore." He said as if it was no big deal. You just sat there, with your mouth hanging wide open at your husband.

"Now go drink some water before you get too worked up."

-----------

You walked down the long hallways of the base to the main meeting room where a huge meeting was being held. Tae had you run and get an important document in his office as the meeting carried on.

You were dressed how you usually were for the office days where you worked on base - skirt, dress shirt, and heels ( basically what everyone else wore ).

But you always got more attention than the other women. You were gifted with a beautiful body ( A/N: guys...everyone is beautiful, and everyone has an amazing body ) and other men who didn't come around often kind of forgot who you were here for in the first place.

You walked into the meeting room, a person from finances was talking in the front of the room. You snuck over to Taeyong at the head of the table and put the file infront of him. "Here you go." You smiled sweetly. "Thank you, Mrs. Lee." He smiled and read the documents.

"Could you go make a copy of this listed document?" He asked quietly, pointing to a list. You bent over a little to get a better view. "Which one?" You asked, and he pointed it out again. You nodded and made a note of it on a piece of paper.

"Anything else?" You asked. "Just one more thing, and it's super top secret." He said and wrote it down on a piece of paper. You looked once he was done and you giggled quietly. "What's for dinner?" It read. You looked down. "Well, what do you want?" You asked quietly.

"I think you know." He winked. You rolled your eyes. "Chicken it is then." You say and he quietly punched the air in happiness.

"I'm going to copy this." You said and started to walk out, but everything was stopped once a loud slap came around the room. You stopped, feeling a sting on your bottom.

You also knew that Taeyong didn't have elastic arms...and you knew that the giggling boys standing next to you wouldn't make it another week in Neo Culture.

You slowly turn around towards the meeting room again, and was met with stares...at you...Taeyong...and the younger recruits...waiting to see what would happen.

"What?" The young men asked, realizing that everyone was staring. Taeyong just sat there, his gaze fixed on the young men.

"Men...do you know who I am?" You bent down towards them a little. "Mrs. Lee...from the personal filing department?" One of them answered.

"Yep...Mrs. as in I am married..." You began and caught the other staring down your shirt. You gripped the clothing to your chest, and you heard a deep sigh come from Taeyong's chest.

"Now...I'm married to one of those fine gentlemen sitting at that table...could you possibly guess who it is?" You asked and they shrugged.

You heard a chair roll from behind you. You sighed, dropping your head in disappointment.

You felt a hand on your lower back, so you stood up. "Me...you dumbasses. She's married to me." Tae said getting close to the men's faces. "And you touched what was mine...no one touches her except me...she's mine."

/////////////

Well damn...I guess me writing fluff isn't that bad...

....also Domestic!Mafia!Taeyong is a concept...

You guys actually don't know how hard this was for me to write. I usually make the other admin write all the mushy gushy stuff because I usually end up killing someone ??

I might take more fluffy reactions because I now realise it's not that bad...it just take me some time to become all soft and gushy.

Love,

#nct #nct 127 #nct mafia au #nct taeyong #lee taeyong #mine #fanfic #nct imagine #imagine #kpop mafia au #kpop au #kpop fluff #neo culture technology

1K notes · View notes

tertiaryembarrassment · 6 years ago

Text

Unexpected (Pt.10) - Paul Lahote x Reader

it’s been 84 years!! congrats on waiting this long, I’m a mess and I never write but I love every last one of you for sticking with me. here’s your reward! it’s short and silly but I enjoyed writing it and I hope I will have the power to make more soon

word count: 2208

tags - @bookluver01 @mrs-hemmings96 @glimmering-darling-dolly @eleganttravelercloud @vxidnik @wandering–in–fangorn @fangirlbitch02 @steggy4ever @the-main-pumpkin @alphakelsey @thisgirlisahufflepuff @delnquents @my-current-fandom-is @tlittlet @lime-001miniwroetofreezymd @newtycuty @bisexualtwilight @le–petit–croissant @fuckyourgondola probably more but I’ve lost the list forgive me

The tent and the festivities inside are faint in both sound and sight before either of you speak again. Strangely, as you follow the dark-haired boy further into darkness, you feel no words that need to be said. You wonder where he’s taking you, but the wonder roots itself in excitement, in anticipation, in… trust? There is no fear, and you decide it is better left a surprise, so you do not pressure him to explain. He squeezes your hand, tosses a smile at you over his shoulder, and continues leading you down a winding pathway, curving just over a subtle hill to resume the steady downwards slope. Hand enveloped warmly in his, you welcome that all-too familiar family of butterflies in your middle.

“A few more minutes,” he assures you quietly, as if not to disturb the forest. “Sorry about the trek.”

You shake your head. “Not at all, this is way better than what I was doing a minute ago.”

Paul lets out a quick breath, a snort of a laugh as he nods in response, allowing the silence to return.

Another minute passes, then two, then five. You watch your feet closely, carefully scrambling over rocks and branches and soft mounds of moss, following Paul’s steady lead, before he suddenly stops short.

Craning his neck around, he turns to face you, his face set in a sideways grin you’ve come to know well. “We’re here,” he says, hopping off a slight ledge below him before reaching up to help you down, wrapping strong hands around your waist and lifting you with ease, gently setting you on the ground beside him.

“It’s… beautiful,” you say, and you mean it. As your feet settle back on the ground, your eyes fall on a gentle creek, soft current bubbling in the quiet forest. A thick layer of moss covers the clearing, crawling up the sides of the looming ash trees that circle the creek, forming a barrier between the grove and the outside world, a trickle of light seeping in from the cracks of sky overhead, a puddle of moonlight illuminating spots of water, the soft ground beneath you, the tall boy who you now realise is still holding your hand.

Instinctively, you jerk yours away, tucking it in the crook of your other arm, crossing them over your chest. Paul glances towards you, brows knitting together in an emotion you can’t quite read, before softening his face and turning towards the brook.

“Isn’t it? I found it one day when I was on patrol. I come here all the time, to… you know, get away from the guys. Be alone for a bit,” he says, taking a few steps closer to the water, crouching down to wave a hand through the current.

You’re silent for a moment, biding your time, drinking in the sight of the clearing before you open your mouth to speak again. Paul beats you to it.

“I’ve never brought anyone else here before,” he says. You can’t see his face, but there’s a waver, ever so slight, in his steady voice. He hunches further over the creek, leaning back on his heels until he’s sitting in the moss.

Two slow, hesitant steps, and you’ve closed the gap between you, kneeling beside him, shoulder to shoulder. You turn your face to his, gazing on his strong profile, gently sloped nose and soft, full lips. “Then I’m honoured,” you say, leaning your weight on him ever so slightly.

Paul chuckles, half-lidded eyes lowering to examine his hands folded neatly in his lap. “You should be,” he says, meeting your eye again. They’re smiling, they almost always are. But you know his eyes now, better than you’d ever expected to – and the smile is only half of them. They’re sad, too, buried somewhere deep beneath his jokes and his teasing and his lighthearted demeanor.

Allowing a slow smile of your own to pass over your lips, you reach down to your feet a slip off your shoes, a flimsy pair of pink ballet slippers – you hadn’t exactly planned on a hike today – and dangle your bare feet over the water, slowly lowering them to dip your toes in. A shudder shakes your spine as the cool river washes over them. It passes as quickly as it arrived, and in a moment you’re standing again, dancing on the slick riverbed, soaked halfway to your knees.

Grin still plastered on your face, you watch as Paul leans over, carefully untying his dress shoes and rolling up his pants, glancing up at you with a cocked brow. He returns your smile, and you can’t be sure but… you think this one was all smile.

A moment later he’s standing beside you, closing the space between you until you’re pressed together, as he reaches for your open hand once more, guiding the other to rest on his shoulder before placing his own on your hip. One more smile, and you search his eyes for sadness. You can’t find it.

A hot blush rushes to your cheeks, and you pray he can’t see it in the blue light. “What’s this for?” You ask, almost silently, a whisper, barely audible over the bubble of the stream at your feet.

“You promised me a dance,” he says, casting dark eyes down at yours. His gaze never wavers.

A quick laugh escapes you. “I guess I did.”

Another beat of silence, two bodies swaying in the water together. There’s something about silence with Paul, it never feels… empty. As though you there’s nothing that needs to be said, the comfort of the other’s presence is enough. Warm, gentle, comforting… safe. That’s the word. Paul is safe. Your mind wandering, you almost don’t notice your head moving to rest on his chest, him tightening his arms around you, enveloping you in his embrace.

“Y/N.”

Your eyes flutter open, suddenly aware of where you are, what you’re doing. For once, you don’t pull away. “Yeah?”

He doesn’t respond right away. Pressed against his chest, you can feel his heart beating in rhythm inside him, the gulp in his throat, almost hear the cogs turning in his mind. “You remember… that night on the beach? When we were talking? About… you know. Life, and imprinting, and… friendship?”

“I do.”

He lets out a long breath. “I’ve… been thinking about it. A lot. I know you said what you said, and if things haven’t changed for you, I won’t ask again, but - ”

He stops short.

He steps back.

“Get down,” he says, crouching to the ground, motioning for you to follow. “Shit, shit, shit. This isn’t happening.”

You follow suit, wrapping a trembling hand around his bicep, the edge of your dress dipping into the river. His face has grown so dark, miles away from the look he was giving you an instant ago. You’ve never seen him so grave. “What? What’s happening?” You whisper.

“Shhhh,” he says, eyes scanning the darkness, pulling you out of the water and onto the land. “Something’s here. I can smell them… and if I can smell them - ”

“They can smell you. Astute observation, for a dog.” A voice carries through the darkness, it’s owner nowhere to be seen. Whoever it belongs to, it’s deep and drawling, soaking with something like enmity. “Although, I must admit, I expected you to notice me sooner. I could smell your stench miles away, it’s downright sickening.”

Paul bares his teeth, lets out something like a low growl. You wince, leaning in closer, trying to make out what he said. It’s not until he shoots a desperate look towards you that his words register – Get back. And you do, scrambling backwards on the soft earth, putting distance between you and the boy before he starts to tremble, roaring in agony and anger as his body begins to shift, twist, accompanied by that awful sound of cracking bone and snapping jaws.

And then, where Paul was a moment ago, stands a hunched over, gigantic, looming grey wolf. He curls his lips, fangs gleaming as they pass through a patch of moonlight, releasing a steady, gravelly growl into the air, taunting the speaker to come out.

You look around, from the wolfen figure of Paul to the darkness around you, afraid of who could have scared Paul so badly, crouching beside the trunk of a moss-covered tree, pressing your back to it.

The voice calls out once more. “That’s really sweet, you know? Toying around with humans. You guys do that, I guess, don’t you?” In an instant, standing at the top of the ledge Paul had carried you down a few minutes before, a man appears in a blur. He’s dressed very nicely, a sharp black shirt buttoned to his collar and crisp dress pants, a trim coat thrown over his shoulder. The darkness of his clothes contrast against the whitest skin you’ve ever seen – almost glowing in the moonlight. A styled mop of blonde hair is slicked back on his head, and he gazes down at Paul with two intense blood red eyes. “She’s your special one, isn’t she? What do you call them?”

Paul growls again, aggression dripping from his voice. The man only laughs and crouches down to his knees, flickering his eyes to where you’ve hidden yourself in the darkness. “Your friend here can’t speak at the moment, it would seem. Care to enlighten me, hon?”

“I-” You start, and the man hops of the ledge, as if to make his way over to you. He hasn’t even reached the ground before the full force of a shapeshifted Paul slams into his form.

You’ve seen the wolves fight before – with their sheer strength, their speed, you know well enough that no regular human could go up against one of them alone and survive. Although… you had an inkling this man was no regular human. Sure enough, a moment after he’s knocked down, he’s back on his feet, eyes darkening as he focuses on Paul, a sly smile peeling across his thin lips.

The man barrels towards him, wrapping two arms around the wolf’s middle and lifting him into the air with ease. You watch in horror as Paul slams into the ground on his side, a high-pitched whimper escaping him before he rolls quickly to the side to avoid a second blow, the man bringing his hand down in a claw, only barely missing his middle.

This earns the well-dressed man a snap at the ankles, the slash of a claw across his face, the baring of a powerful jaw at his side. The two exchange blows in unison for what feels like an eternity – the man holding his own to your amazement. What sort of creature was this, that could stand against something as strong as you’d known the wolves to be? The creatures move in a blur, both impossibly fast as they dart around the clearing, batting away bites and swings with ease, seemingly perfectly matched. You know Paul would want you to run, he’s buying you time – if he fell, there would be nothing protecting you from whatever this man is, whatever he came for. But you can’t move, your legs locked in place, your eyes glued to the scene before you. In what was once a silent grove, most certainly now rings loudly with growls and grunts, the sound of bone against bone and claws ripping through flesh, but you hear nothing. You heart pounds in your ears, blood rushing past, the sound of worry all you can hear. What if something happens to him? What if he’s not strong enough? All of the sudden, a most desperate fear curls its dark fingers around your throat.

What if Paul doesn’t make it?

You fall backwards on your feet, desperately resisting the urge to go to his side, to take the man in your hands and pull him apart for threating your… what is Paul to you, anyway? A moment ago, you would have said friend. It doesn’t seem to fit quite right anymore.

As if on cue, three more figures burst through the treeline, baring sharp, gleaming fangs and dark, canine glowers at the pale man, whose confidence seems to waver for a moment. The three new wolves – you couldn’t be certain, but judging by the silver coat, the slender, muscular figure, you would bet the one on the far side was Leah.

It’s not a fair fight anymore. The three new wolves descend upon the man, who struggles to dodge and dart away like he had with Paul, wherever he arrives, a set of powerful teeth are waiting to greet him. You hear him cry, and in a moment one of the wolves is at your side.

As she saunters closer, you know you would recognize her anywhere.

“Leah,” you whisper, feeling hot tears tearing across your cheeks.

She lowers her head, motioning to her back, then to the pile of wolves. Tentatively, you reach up, placing your arms on her strong back, eyes flickering to her face for permission. She nods, and you pull yourself up, straddling her sides, gripping her fur tightly in trembling fists.

And then you’re flying through the night.

#twilight #the twilight saga #twilight fanfiction #Twilight FanFic #twilight imagine #paul lahote x reader #wolf pack #paul lahote #paul lahote fanfic #uley pack #canon x reader #leah clearwater

1K notes · View notes

crushedbyhyperbole · 5 years ago

Text

Good Ole Stuffing

A/N: For @xxloki81xx ‘s 2019 Xmas writing challenge, filling the song prompt: It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas - Michael Bublé. Thanks for organising this badass challenge

This is a Bucky Barnes x Reader w/ powers fic where their relationship is established. The story is set a couple of years after another of my fics, Disco Ball Diva. I think I might make a cluster of fics with this reader character because she’s hilarious and sassy as fuck.

Read Disco Ball Diva | Main Masterlist | Mobile Masterlist

Words: 3.3k

Warnings: 18+ only please... Smut, threats of bodily harm, and terrible terrible language.

Summary: The early arrival of Christmas and a prank courtesy of Sam ‘turkey boy’ Wilson ruins your super-chill fall vibe. Bucky makes it up to you, and let’s face it, his recipe for stuffing is right up your street.

November 1st. You sighed blissfully. This day always felt so peaceful, like all the tension that built up over the course of a year just seeped away leaving behind a fresh, crisp, new-feeling world much like the old one but lighter; unpacked and unburdened. This was one of the things you loved about Halloween, aside from the dark occult connotations, and the child-like excitement that came with this holiday, All Saints Day had its own special feel; everything felt cleansed. Except your mind – that was always filthy.

Halloween at the Avengers compound had been an evening garden party with a bon fire, a haunted house marquee, carnival games and spooky themed circus acts. It was more for the families of all the Avengers and Stark Industries staff (families with children), but you but you loved every second regardless. Kids in costumes running around excitedly with candyfloss, completely hyperactive on sugar and E numbers. ��Adults in costumes running around excitedly, completely hyperactive on alcohol. But that had been later in the night, after all the kids had gone and all who were left were those of your who lived in the compound.

This year, you and Bucky had done the couples thing. Collaborating costumes for the first time had been fun and your adaptation of Sweeny Todd and Mrs Lovett had gone down swimmingly, especially since you actually baked pies for the party; apple and blackberry, made to look like a bloody filling. Delicious.

It wasn’t the first Halloween you’d had together, you’d been together 2 years now and things were going great. You’d danced around each other when you’d first joined the team but as time grew on you came to realise that you truly cared for the man formerly known as The Winter Soldier, and learned that he felt the same. And boy, did he! Bucky poured his heart and soul into you, giving life to the aching hope you cherished, that one day all the tension between you would evolve into something amazing. And that he’d fuck you senseless. Phew! That man was passionate on a whole other level, even the thought of him was enough to get you going.

Sweaty and in desperate need of a different kind of release, you quit the gym having worked through your hangover, and hit the showers. If you’d have told yourself a couple of years ago that you’d be an exercise-loving badass Avenger with a badass Avenger boyfriend, you’d have told yourself to suck a dick. You’d come a long way since Tony Stark picked you up, back when you were a hotdog seller whose superpower was simple prismatic projection. Now you were a fully-fledged Avenger whose power could both protect and harm, as well as look snazzy as fuck. Your Avenger name was Suncatcher, which was a hell of a lot better than Rainbow Brite - the name Bucky first called you when you joined up. That asshole!

The communal area in the compound had a different feel altogether. Not the calm you loved about All Saints Day, but something glowing and bright and-.

“What the fuck is this shit?”

Your gym bag was heavy as you toted it the final few steps into the lounge where you observed a kind of carnage you’d never seen before, not even in the aftermath of battle.

Bucky’s head snapped in your direction, his glitter-covered hair fanned, sending sparkling dust everywhere. There were fairy lights wrapped around his metal arm, plugged in, no less, and he had baubles on the floor all around where he knelt.

“Hey sweetheart.” He was at your side in seconds, having ditched the lights and come to give you a hug and a soft peck on the cheek.

“Where’s the Halloween shit?”

Bucky’s mouth flapped in surprise at seeing your deep scowl, and he thumbed over his shoulder at his friend.

Ahh yes, the other culprit. The Falcon.

Sam had been knelt by Bucky, hidden from view when you’d entered. Now he was out in the open, exposed, and he was struggling to stifle his mirth.

“Well, this ain’t happenin’. Hell fuckin’ no!” You stood in front of the partially assembled Christmas tree, hands on hips, bristling. “I will fucking fight you both.” You were sure you looked fierce. Amazon queen that you were.

“C’mon, Rainbow Brite.” Sam smirked. “Tis the season to be jolly.”

“Fuck that!” You gripe indignantly. “It’s Halloween until December 24th and not a day before.”

“You tolerate this woman?” Sam jibed at Bucky, rolling his eyes with a long-suffering groan.

“Get stuffed, turkey boy.” Your irritation was only half serious, you loved talking shit, especially to Sam. “I light up his life like the glorious disco ball of sexy bitchin’ badassery that I am.”

Bucky pulled you in for a hug, chuckling against the top of your head. “Speaking of stuffing.” He murmured.

“Oh baby!” You moaned salaciously when his hands slid down to your ass. “You know I love me some of that 100 year old sausage meat stuffing.” You cackle with glee at the disgusted noise Sam made.

You were sorely tempted to push Bucky down on the sofa, straddle him and make a scene of dry humping him just to get Sam to flee the scene. Bucky would let you do it too, he’d long since stopped being embarrassed by your exhibitionist behaviour. But you wanted this man to fuck you senseless and that called for the soundproofed bedroom in which he slept.

Nightmares. It was for the nightmares, alright. But it certainly served your needs.

“If I’ve got to tolerate this Christmas bullshit before the corpse of Halloween is even cold then you,” you paused to poke his pec playfully, “robocock, are going to make it up to me.”

With a grin, Bucky tapped your thigh and bent down a little. Jump up, his eyes said.

No sooner were your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, were his lips on yours in a searing kiss and he carried you away. Somewhere in the background Sam was muttering something about being scarred for life, counselling needed and some other lame ass complaint. You didn’t care. Bucky had you and he was going to take you.

There was no preamble once his bedroom door banged shut against the frame. Bucky threw you down onto the bed and tugged down your yoga pants, knickers and all. He knew what you needed from him, he was great like that, reading your mood and desire like you were an open book. It had come with much practice, but it had come.

You were yanked by your ankles to the edge of the bed and Bucky was inside you immediately, where he stilled, eyelids fluttering as he allowed you both a moment to adjust. You were tight, even after all this time as his lover. More so because he hadn’t warmed you up beforehand, but you were great. Perfect, in fact.

You grinned at his sharp intake of breath at the purposeful flex of your pelvic floor, teasing him, goading him to fuck you sore. To leave you with that burning throb that reminded you for days of the feel of him buried deep in your cunt.

“Lose the shirt.” You commanded with a sly smile and he obeyed instantly. “I’ve been thinking about you naked all damn day.”

“Yeah?” He threw your legs over his shoulders folded you in half, leaning over you until his hair tickled your face, swaying as he started a slow rhythm. “Been thinking about my cock too? I bet you have.”

You groaned deep as he slammed into you hard, once twice, three times. “What girl – doesn’t love – vintage – accessories?” Your grin was taunting and your hit your mark. You loved it when he talked dirty.

“I’ll give you vintage.” He growled, dragging your hands up above your head to pin you down, his hands locked with yours. “You’ll feel this tomorrow, for sure.”

It was brutal. The depth and force of his thrusts, and the angle he achieved by forcing your knees down onto the mattress by your ears using his weights as leverage. You could hardly breathe, but that was half the thrill. Gasping and keening, dizzy but exhilarated, you took every inch of him as he drilled you down into the bed. Paying rent, you called this.

“You gonna come for me, huh, sweetheart?” Bucky read the violent flush blooming on your face and décolletage with an arrogance smirk. “Gonna let me feel that sweet little pussy flutter? Yeah, you are! I’m gonna fuck you until you come around my cock.”

You had no words for him, only grunts and gasps made of what little air was in your lungs. He didn’t mind, he was giving you this, fucking you how you needed. It wasn’t always brutal like this, sometimes you couldn’t bare anything more than the softest touch, when you asked him to make love to you instead of fucking you into oblivion.

“Feel that?” He slammed into you hard and ground against you for a few beats, his pubic bone wreaking havoc with your clit, before resuming his punishing rhythm. “I’m gonna destroy that gorgeous hole of yours so bad you won’t sit right for a week.”

He was so close, straining to hold back until he pushed you over the edge. Impossibly he picked up the pace, pounding you ruthlessly until your eyes rolled back into their sockets. You practically drooled on yourself, groaning as you crested the huge mountain of intense pleasure he built for you. The wave crashed, destroying what was left of your self-control. You cried out, tears undammed as they spilled forth. It was exquisite, the sharpness of your climax and the painful burn where you were stretched so perfectly around his swollen prick.

The first violent contraction of your cunt dragged him with you, his cock twitched almost painfully as the pressure between his hips exploded. The air around you grew heavy to the point where he couldn’t draw breath, and as he filled you to brimming with his jism small flecks of multi-coloured light erupted all around.

He slowed and sat back on his knees, prolonging your orgasm with slow deep strokes until you began to relax. The light show was spectacular, undulating spectrums layered over one another, growing in size until you came back to yourself.

Bucky stroked his hands up and down your thighs gently, watching as your breathing settled and your eyes cracked open to meet his. Your shock was temporary, followed by guilt and suddenly he could breathe more than short shallow breaths. You hadn’t realised you’d used your power; it was a reaction to the intense emotions you’d felt. The first time it happened, Bucky panicked, but now he knew to ride it out, and sometimes it added to his pleasure.

“How was that?” he whispered, lowering your legs to the mattress and curling himself against your spine.

“Best stuffing, evarrrr…” You spoke quietly but with a smile, blissfully worn out and on the verge of unconsciousness.

“Not bad for 1940s vintage, huh, sweetheart?” He pressed a kiss into the hair at your temple and pulled you closer, feeling you relax back against his chest.

“They don’t make ‘em like they used to.” You mumble and Bucky chuffs a soft nasal chuckle, rubbing his stubbly cheek in your hair as you succumb to complete peace.

It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas

Everywhere you go…

Take a look at the five and ten, it’s glistening once again

With candy canes and silver lanes that glow…

You stirred from sleep, grumbling at the infernal racket that was threatening to ruin the amazing dream you were having about Bucky kissing every single inch of your body.

It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas

Toys in every store…

But the prettiest sight to see is the holly that will be

On your own front door…

The muffled vibrating that accompanied the horrendous tune pulled you further from sleep and made you crack an eye open like a sleeping dragon. A phone. Someone’s phone was ringing. Some Christmas-loving heathen’s phone. Ughh!

A pair of hop-a-long boots and a pistol that shoots

Is the wish of Barney and Ben

Dolls that’ll talk and will go for a walk

Is the hope of Janice and Jen

And Mom and Dad can hardly wait for school to start again…

You were soon bolt upright, slightly woozy but too grumpy to care. You scoured Bucky’s room for the source of the annoyance and fixed, confusedly, on your gym bag. What the fuck? Hands frantically searching, you pulled out your phone to find one missed call from ‘Fist of Victory’. Bucky must’ve called you to wake you from your nap. Blissed out as you were, he must’ve left you to sleep while he ran some errands and did some chores, like bringing your gym bag from the common room.

The screen flashed and the voice of Michael Bublé piped up once more. Bucky again.

It’s beginning to look a lot like-

You killed the call and, with an irritated nasal sigh, you delved into your settings to undo whatever heinous crime had been committed on your phone.

It’s beginning to look-

“Nope.” You swiped the red button, growing more annoyed by the second. Your phone asked you for a password but your pin didn’t work. “Don’t do this to me!” You groaned, trying everything you could think of short of factory restoring your device.

It’s beginning to-

“What the actual fuck?” You raged. It was no use. Some bastard had set your ringtone and locked you out of your own security. “Fuck Christmas!”

Dirty yoga pants pulled on in haste and phone in hand, you raced from Bucky’s room towards the common room where you hoped to find your beau or at least someone who could fix this travesty. Micheal Bublé’s voice chased you down the halls until you were about ready to flush your phone down the nearest shitter and call it quits.

Shoving through the door of the lounge, you were faced with 4 pairs of eyes around a dinner table laden with food; Bucky, Nat, Sam and Steve turned to look at you. Bucky’s smile faded when he saw the state of you, dishevelled and panting, pink thong over the top of your inside-out yoga pants; furious. You froze, cringing as the song continued uninterrupted in your hand.

It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas

Everywhere you go…

There’s a tree in the Grand Hotel, one in the park as well

It’s the sturdy kind that doesn’t mind the snow…

There was confusion from three of the four, Bucky included as he ended the call, but Sam – oh that bastard! You lunged for him and almost got to him too, before a solid metal arm wound around your waist and pulled you back.

“You!” You struggled hard against Bucky’s strength, but even if you got free Steve was ready to stop you before you could hurt yourself, and it would hurt, but it would be worth it to punch that smug parrot in his weak-looking jaw. “I’m gonna fucking pluck you, roast you and feed you to the homeless.”

The amused glint in Sam’s eyes goaded you further but you succumbed to the calming effect of Bucky’s arms tightly gripped around you. You dropped your head against his chest and groaned.

“C’mon, y/n! Get into the Christmas spirit.” Sam chuckled and you flipped him the bird.

He knew he’d won this round but you’d find some way of paying him back. Maybe you’d set fire to his tree on Christmas Eve so Christmas Day would have that vibrant bonfire smell that reminded you of Halloween, which was only yesterday. You huffed.

“Is this why the tree is up so early?” Nat said judgingly with a slight roll of her eyes. “You should probably fix her phone.”

“Hell no!” Sam snorted around a mouthful of food. “This is too much fun.”

“Suit yourself.” Nat hid her smirk behind the rim of her coffee cup. “I’m not going to save you when she chokes the life out of you, Darth Vader style.”

Coughing and choking preceded grains of rice spluttered into a napkin as Sam’s wide eyes flitted between you and Nat. “She what?”

“Wanda has been working with her on expanding the range of her powers so she can effect larger areas further away from her body.” Steve chimed in. “It’s impressive.”

“The air gets thick and suddenly you can’t breathe.” Nat cocked a brow. “She doesn’t even need to touch you and you’re choking to death.”

“From over there?” Sam pushed his chair back a few inches, like that would make a difference.

Steve and Nat nodded deliberately, solemnly.

You grinned, projecting a light show worthy of your wrath. Sam was out of his seat and backing up before Bucky turned you and positioned himself between you and your target. Sam didn’t know you couldn’t reach him and it was fun to make him squirm so you tried, like, really tried to stretch your power outwards at that winged menace. The air grew heavy and it seemed like everyone held their breath, everyone except you.

Bucky stroked his hand into your messy hair and tilted your head ready for his kiss. You knew he was trying to distract you, and it worked. Lips and tongues eagerly danced until you were moaning into his mouth and pressing yourself against his growing arousal. The room relaxed as he ravaged your lips, forgetting you were not alone. Your tummy growled aggressively and broke the spell, bashful giggles followed.

“Looks like I’m going to be making it up to you again, darlin’, on behalf of that bird brain.” Bucky kissed the tip of your nose.

“Well…” You drawled. “If you’re going to fuck me every time he pisses me off then I might sign him up on a contract.”

Bucky smeared his lips against yours in a passionate but tongueless kiss before swiping a plate full of food from the table and shoving it into your hands.

He swept you up bridal style and spun you around once for good measure. Nat caught your eye and you mouthed ‘thank you’ to her. She winked subtly with that pursed lop-sided smirk she does when she’s highly amused. Steve was looking elsewhere, seeing his childhood friend head-over-heels in love and so confidently displaying his emotions was a moment of awkward pride for him.

Sam was forgotten as Bucky carried you back to his room with a grin on his face that already had you weak. Your phone was forgotten, turned off in your hand, and as you disappeared down the hallway, those in the common room would swear they heard you humming a tune. A tune that fit with the words now playing in your head.

It’s beginning to look a lot like sex-mas

Several times a day

Take a look at that perfect bum, and that juicy pair of plums

And the cock that’s going to fuck my cares away

It’s beginning to look a lot like sex-mas

Get the toys and stuff

If I’m still walking straight, and not with a funky gait

Then he hasn’t truly boned me hard enough

A pair of nipple-clamp bells and some lube that smells

Like cherry and not something yuk

A straining hard cock that gives my ovaries a knock

And I’m gonna give it a suck

And when we’re done, we’ll watch some porn until we’re ready to fuck

It’s beginning to look a lot like sex-mas

Fingers tease me slow

When he’s giving me metal three and working them ruthlessly

Until I’m screaming and I’m ready to explode

It’s beginning to look a lot like sex-mas

And we’ve ruined Bucky’s bed

We’ll take it to the floor or stood by the door

Where I’m on my knees so I can give him head.

It’s beginning to look a lot like sex-mas

He’s gasping as he comes

Filling me to the brim and holding me close to him

Rubbing my cheeks so tender with his thumbs

I do love Bucky’s plums.

If you’ve enjoyed this, why not try my other Suncatcher fic, Disco Ball Diva. Same sassy reader character, just earlier on in her Avengers career.

#xxloki81xx2019xmas #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #reader insert #reader with powers #bucky barnes fan fic #marvel fan fic #writing challenge #my writing #suncatcher cluster #cloudy's writing

39 notes · View notes