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bvbygrl-writes · 1 year ago

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Wrong House

Pairing: Stu Macher x Nerdy!Reader x Billy Loomis

Word Count: 3.2k

Summary: A step into wrong house leads to a night of the right fun.

A/N: I was not supposed to upload this tonight but I'm too excited about it. I'm not proof reading this long ass shit either so if something is spelled wrong use your imagination to fix it, mwuah! <3

Warnings: reader has afab anatomy breaking and entering, knife play, homoerotic themes (they kiss but nothing more than that), mentions of murder, eiffel towering, loss of virginity, coercion and ultimatums, rope bandage, panty kink, and panty sniffing.

THIS FIC IS 18+!!! MINORS / ACCOUNTS WITHOUT AGE DNI YOU WILL BE BLOCKED WITH NO WARNING BUT THIS ONE.

(Y/n) was naturally an anxious girl but, with her parents out of town and the string of murders happening, she was on edge. She had every single light on in the house, the downstairs tv on, anything to make it seem as though the house was full of life. The reporters on the radio had told people to stay together and while most of the students in school had that option, she didn’t. Nobody wanted to be friends with the quiet girl who still wore Care Bear sweaters and could recite Star Trek lines from memory.

Nibbling the end of her pencil, she let out an exasperated sigh. She had been staring at the same math problem in her textbook for a good 45 minutes. “Focus, (Y/n/n), focus. If you do end up living through all of this, you’ll want to get into a good college.If you fail, mom and dad will make you wish you were dead.” she said out loud to herself, a sad laugh falling from her lips. At that same moment, her stomach began to grumble. When was the last time she ate? Reaching for the phone, she dialed the number to her favorite chinese food place. She loved it because the food was cheap and they were one of the only places that delivered something other than pizza after 10PM.

“Alright, thank you!” she said, placing the phone back on the receiver. It’d be about a 20 minute wait, giving her time to focus more on her work. Sighing she sat back down in front of her textbook, staring at the page until the numbers started to blur together. “Well, that’s enough of that! I should get the money for the delivery driver seeing as it’ll be here in…” glancing at the clock on her wall she sighed, “Twenty minutes.” ignoring that face, she stood up, bunny slippers stomping over the carpeted floor to the piggy bank on her dresser. She pulled out a 10 dollar bill along with a 5 for the tip. But before (Y/n) could even get to her door, she heard a noise at the front door.

“Th-that’s weird. There’s still nineteen minutes an-” she shrieked at the sound of the door bursting open. Every anxiety filled thought she had had since being home by herself was coming true. The blood drained from her face, her body growing light at the sound of the voices coming from the living room. Tears began to form in the corner of her eyes as she turned off the lights and closed her bedroom door. The sound of footsteps coming up the stairs put in perspective just how real this all was. She silently cursed her dad for never fixing the damn lock on her window. She might’ve broken a few bones from jumping, but that’d be better than being completely dead! Looking around her room she made the decision to jump in her closet, closing the accordion door.

She became aware of how loudly she was breathing, clamping her hands over her mouth. Her body trembled with terror. ‘Is this how I die? Alone, never experiencing friendship or love?’ Was this really the time to be feeling sorry for her lack of social and love life? ‘Well to be fair, this may be one of the last times I’m able to feel anything whatsoever.’ The sound of her bedroom door opening instantly made her mind go blank. The girl felt as though she was having a heart attack and honestly? She would have preferred that to whatever death she was about to experience.

“Are you sure this is the right house? This doesn’t look like Chelsea’s room.” A male’s voice remarked, the lights flicking on. She could see through the small slots on the folding door that there were two men. One had dark hair and a knife in his hand. The other one was taller with blonde hair and a backpack with god knows what inside of it.

“Yeah, dude! This is 345 Avalee Lane.” the other one exclaimed, an almost sinister grin on his face. The dark hair one made a sound that was a mix of a growl and a sigh.

“You fucking idiot! Chelsea lives in 348, we’re in the wrong house!” he pinched the bridge of his nose, kicking over the little trash can near her desk across the room. (Y/n) relaxed a bit. Maybe since they weren’t looking for her they’d just leave?

“Well at least no one’s home, we can just get out of here.” The blonde one rasped out, eating a piece of candy off of her dresser before tossing the wrapper on the ground. ‘Rude’ she thought.

“The lights and the tv were on. Someone’s definitely in this house. I’m going to go check the other rooms and you look around this one a bit better. We can’t take any chances.” The brunette exited the room and in the distance he heard the sound of different doors being opened.

The blonde one began to hum, snooping around her room. He walked over to her dresser, opening up her panty drawer. A smile grew on his face as he held up a pair of white ones with a pink lace trim, shoving them in the back pocket of his baggy jeans. “Cute.” he said to himself (or so he thought). Walking over to her bed, he tossed the covers back before bending down to check under the bed as well. Next, he walked over to the cupboard of her collectable figurines, opening up the door. “Hm.” he shrugged before beginning to exit the room. She removed her hands from her mouth, placing them on the floor beside her as she let her body relax. However, before he could leave, she could see a lightbulb go off in his brain as he turned around walking towards the closet. The girl’s eyes went wide as she shook her head. As he opened the closet door, she couldn’t even manage to make a sound. A look of surprise made its way onto his face before he began to grin. “You’ve got cute little undies. Hey Billy!”

All (Y/n) could do was sit there in shock. She recognized this boy, he was in her art classes although he rarely showed up. Now that she could really see his face, he was quite attractive. Before she could delve into why she was letting herself think that, the other one (who she assumed was Billy) appeared right next to him. Although he had a scowl on his face, he was just as attractive. ‘Well, you always said you wanted a cute guy to notice you. There’s two! But you should’ve been more specific, huh (Y/n/n)?’

“She’s kind of cute in a dorky little way, ain’t she?” Stu commented as Billy used his knife to lift her chin. She didn’t dare stop making eye contact with Billy for fear of what he might do with that knife the second she did. He tilted her face around, examining it from all sorts of angles before he chuckled.

“She is. (Y/n), right? You’re the girl that’s always winning those sciences awards at school. We have AP English together.” he said in a calm tone. This was the strangest thing she had ever experienced. Why were they dragging this on so much when they could just kill her and get it over with?

“M-mmm-mhm!” she stuttered out, nodding her head ever so slightly so she didn’t cut herself on the blade.

“Although I agree with my friend here, you still find yourself to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. See, I’ve got a plan and if I let you live, there’s a big chance you’re going to blab and ruin it for me.” he said, his words coming out through gritted teeth towards the end. “So unfortunately, your time’s up.”

“No, no please! I-I-I won’t blab and tell! I don’t have any friends or anyone to tell I won’t tell please! I promise!” she sobbed, begging for her life as he pressed the knife against her neck harder. Adrenaline was coursing through her veins, which would also explain the sensation happening between her legs. Fat tears continued to stream down her face. “I promise please there’s gotta be a way!” she continued to plead for her life, waiting for something, just anything to happen. Whatever it’d take for this situation to be over. However, she was surprised when the knife suddenly was no longer pressed to her neck. Looking up, she saw the blonde one’s hand had moved it away and he was whispering something into Billy’s ear. Their eyes kept flickering to parts of the room and then back to her before Billy gave a singular nod.

“It seems my friend Stu here has taken quite a liking to you so here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to have a bit of fun with you and if we enjoy it, you live and we’ll be back to get you after we finish some…business. And if not, I’ll slit your throat right after we finish. Does that sound fair?” Billy said, tugging her from her sitting position to be in between the both of them. She nodded frantically, happy to have even a small chance of living. She knew they were probably going to kill her when they were done, but at least that moment was suspended for a bit longer.

“Wh-what do I need t-to do?” she asked, her heart racing as she looked up at the two of them. They were completely dwarfing her with their size, it was like being trapped between two incredibly hot trees. Stu grinned at her once again before stepping back a bit.

“Well you can start by stripping!” he instructed, phrasing it like a suggestion even though she knew it wasn’t. She nodded, taking off her cream colored sweater, sliding her Power Rangers pajama pants down right after. She began to hesitate slightly as now she was just in her slippers and underwear.

“Allow me.” Billy said, using his knife to snip off her bra. He started at the shoulder straps, taking a moment to stare at her breast before tearing the backband as well. She didn’t try to cover up, knowing her chances of survival would dwindle to none. He went to pull down her panties but Stu stopped him, shaking his head.

“Leave those on her.” he said, before getting down on his knees in front of her. Billy held her arms behind her back with one of his, peeking over the girl’s shoulders to see what his moronic friend had planned. What she didn’t expect was for him to bury his face into her underwear-clad pussy and sniff. Stu let out a low moan as he did, eyes rolling back in pleasure. He continued to sniff at her front, his nose nudging her clit through the fabric. “God that’s amazing. Looks like she’s enjoying it too.” he said, rubbing his finger on the wet spot forming on her panties. He gently pressed his fingers against the fabric causing (Y/n) to squirm a bit, a gentle moan falling from her mouth.

“Oh, that’s such a pretty noise.” Billy purrs lowly in her ear. Standing from the floor, Stu lifts his fingers up to Billy’s mouth and without thinking, he opens it. The girl watches in awe, her clit beginning to throb at the way the two men were interacting with one another. Stu slowly pulls his fingers from the man’s mouth, biting his lip as the other man licks his. “Did you want a taste?” he asks in a deep tone. At the same time, they both lean over and begin to share a passionate and heated open mouth kiss. Little moans and grunts fall from them, a gasp falling from her own lips as Stu grips at her waist, beginning to grind against her front, his bulge slotted between her slit. Billy mimics his actions, grinding his cock against her ass. She was glad the two were holding her up, because at the current moment she wasn’t sure if her legs would work. This was a whole new world for her. She had never been kissed or even touched by one man let alone two. The noises falling from her mouth were completely out of her control, the sensation of their rhythmic rubbing along with the scene of them kissing above her was all too much for her to handle.

As though they could hear her thoughts, they pulled away from their kiss, turning their attention back to her. She hadn’t even realized that the knife was completely gone now. If she wanted to, she could’ve ran and gotten away. If she wanted to. Billy gripped her arms once more, beginning to walk her over to the bed. She felt her face grow warm at the collection of stuffed animals, causing her to look at the ground. “They keep me warm at night.” she defended weakly. Stu laughed, cooing at her before picking one up and turning it to face the wall, repeating the action several times with the other one.

Billy groaned, annoyed. “Seriously?”

“What? I know how the girls get about that sort of thing.” As Stu continued with his antics, the brunette reached for his friend’s bag. (Y/n) eyed him curiously, thinking he had changed his mind on their deal but was relieved when all he pulled out was a bit of rope. Wait, rope? He tossed it up and down smirking at her before positioning himself behind her as he began to tie her hands together. ‘This is better than whatever they usually probably use this for.’ She tugged at the rope, the friction causing a mild irritation from the action. He pushed her a bit, causing her to fall forward onto the bed. Her ass was in the air while the upper part of her body fell down due to having no support. She listened to the sound of belts and pants clambering before feeling the bed dip down behind her. At that same time, a pair of legs kneeled in front of her as well. She felt as a hand carded it’s way through her hair before tightening, lifting her face to be eye level with a cock. Peering up, she saw that it was Billy.

“Are you gonna open up or am I going to have to do it for you?” he asked, causing a bit of panic to flash through the girl’s (e/c) eyes.

“S-sorry. I’ve never done any of this before.” she muttered, causing a whistle from behind her. She could imagine the grin on Stu's face.

“A cute virgin?! How lucky are we tonight? Oh this is going to be fun. I haven’t popped a cherry in quite a long time.” Stu gushed, rubbing his hands together. “I can barely contain myself!” her panties were then pulled to the side, long fingers beginning to rub all along her slick covered folds. She let out a whimper, her knees trembling as he began to rub circles on her clit. As he slid a finger in, her mouth fell open which Billy saw as the perfect opportunity. Gripping her hair a bit tighter, he began to slide his cock into her mouth slowly. He stared down at her face, watching as her mouth began to struggle with the girth of him, tears falling down her face.

“You better stop with all those tears, I really don’t wanna cum this early.” Billy teased, beginning to rock his hips back and forth. He hissed in pleasure at her tight and warm little mouth, tossing his head back as he let out a guttural moan. Behind her, Stu had managed to work the third finger in, stretching and scissoring them around.Gripping her hip with one hand, he used his other to glide his cock along her lips causing them to both moan. “Hurry up, I wanna pick up the pace but I’m trying to make it easier for you.”

“I’m going!” and with that, Stu slid his cock in with one swift motion. His grip on her hips tightened at the same time her walls did as he fell forward for a bit, head resting against the small of her back. “G-god, oh fuck! You’ve got a tight little pussy, huh?” he said through gritted teeth, beginning to pound into her at an almost animalistic pace. Her pussy drooled around his cock as she continued to moan around Billy, choking as he also picked up his pace. Their thrust were alternating. As Stu would pull his cock out some, Billy’s would enter her throat deep, barely giving her a chance to get used to anything. She had already came around his cock twice, the feeling being overwhelmingly pleasurable.

They were using her like a doll, holding her up and angling her just right. All she could do was sob and take it, the only thing on her mind was their cocks and her life. She didn’t even care if she was going to die after this, this was the best thing she had ever experienced in her life.

“You look so helpless when you cry. God, Stu I wish you could see her right now.” Billy moaned out, staring down into those wet (e/c) eyes. Picking up his pace, he gripped at her scalp, full on skull fucking her now. His thrust had grown sloppy and so had his counterpart’s.

“Tr-trust me, my view is just as good. I’m cl-close!” he whined out, reaching a finger down to rub at the girl's sensitive and swollen clit. (Y/n) screamed around Billy’s cock sending him over the edge. Pulling out, he coated her face and hair in a load of sticky white cum. Watching Billy stroke his cock over her face pushed Stu over the edge as well, causing him to bounce her back on his dick, whimpering as he came deep inside of her.

The room fell silent and as (Y/n) came to her senses, the question of the hour came back to haunt her. Was she going to live?

“Are you satisfied, Stu?”

“More than, man.”

“Well..” Billy trailed off, stepping off of the bed. As Stu pulled out, she felt cold and exposed. Both men stood behind her, staring as the load of cum began to roll down the back of her legs. The brunette reached forward, grabbing her wrist rather roughly before untying her. “I guess you live. We’ll be back. In the meantime, get cleaned up.” the sound of the doorbell ringing caused the two men to look out the window, thinking she had somehow managed to get in contact with help. However, they both relaxed at the sight of the delivery truck on the outside of the house.

“Make sure you save me some chow mein!” Stu said. The girl rolled over on her back, letting out a breathless laugh watching as the two quickly got dressed. Before they headed for the bedroom door, Stu took her panties off of her, sticking them in the front pocket of his jeans.

“For good luck!”

#scream #billy loomis x reader #billy loomis #billy loomis x you #billy loomis x y/n #billy loomis x female reader #billy loomis x stu matcher #stu macher x reader #stu macher #stu macher x you #stu macher x y/n #stu macher x billy loomis #scream imagine #ghostface x reader #billy loomis x reader x stu macher #billy x reader x stu #stu macher x reader x billy loomis #stu x reader x billy

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pitchsidestories · 2 months ago

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make the season bright II Millie Bright x Arsenal!Reader

masterlist | word count: 1023

summary: Millie and reader go shopping for christmas, but the Chelsea defender has a special gift for the Arsenal player in mind.

author's note: dear readers, the oneshot is based on this lovely request, we hope you'll have fun with it.

The shopping centre was full of life so close to Christmas. People hurried from store to store to buy presents and decorations while Christmas songs blared from the speakers. In contrast to your girlfriend, you enjoyed the pre-holiday hustle and bustle. It got you into the Christmas spirit while Millie was just stressed out by it.

Knowing this, you quickly pressed a quick kiss to her cheek: “Love, I’ll be right back. I’m just getting a present for Hempo.“

Millie nodded, looking relieved about being able to wait outside the store: “Yes, love. Take your time.“

“See you soon.“, you waved and disappeared into the Lego store.

Millie watched as you entered, making sure that you would be busy browsing the aisles for a while before sneaking away from her spot in front of the store.

With determined steps, she walked towards a jewellers shop and started studying the rings on display.

“So you’re looking for an engagement ring?”, someone said to her right. Looking up, she saw an older man with a friendly smile who seemed eager to sell something.

“Yes. I was thinking a gold one, not too big. Something classy.“, Millie described quickly what she had in mind.

The salesperson nodded slowly and led Millie to another ring display.

“How about this one then?“

“Oh, this is beautiful.“, Millie said, taking a closer look at the filigree ring. It was almost exactly what she had imagined. A simple gold band with small oval-shaped diamond in the middle, elegant and not too flashy.

The smile on the man’s face grew wider, either because he was able to help his customer or because he was about to sell something: “Would you like me to wrap it up for you?”

“Yes, please. But no bows or anything. And I don’t need a bag, it’s supposed to be a surprise.“, Millie replied. Her gaze nervously wandered towards the clock, she’s been inside the shop for almost fifteen minutes already.

“Got it.“

Still, he took his time putting the ring into a small pillowed jewellery box while Millie waited impatiently with her credit card already in hand.

The payment was processed just in time as you entered the store after spending minutes to find her.

“Hi love, what are you doing inside here?”, you smiled at her.

“I was just looking at some earrings. Found what you were looking for?”, your girlfriend asked innocently.

You opened a huge yellow shopping bag, showing her its contents: “Yes. Look, I found this big set. Doesn’t it scream Hempo?”

“It does.“, she agreed as you left the jewellers shop together.

For a second her face whitened, fearing you might discover the rings somehow.

An amused smile appeared on your lips, while you realized. “I hope she doesn’t own it yet. Wait are those Christmas jumpers for our dogs, you know I don’t-“

“Promise me you won’t be mad.”, Millie looked at you puppy eyed

“Only a little bit.”, you admitted releasing a deep sigh.

“They’ll look adorable in it, Lucy and Beth agree with me!”, she defended herself.

“Of course they do.”, you commented eyerolling.

“Hey, even an Arsenal player is on my side.”, the defender added in a teasing tone.

“Just because I’m a gooner doesn’t mean we’ve to share the same opinion.”, you countered.

“Oh, you don’t? I thought you all just use one brain cell together.”, a smug grin was on your girlfriends’ lips.

“Excuse me? You can sleep on the sofa tonight if you keep talking like this Bright.”, you warned her, playfully punching her in the side.

“With the dogs in their matching Christmas sweaters? I don’t mind that.”, Millie shrugged laughing whole-heartedly.

“No, they’ll sleep on your side of the bed.”, you corrected her trying your hardest not to chuckle.

“Rude.”, the blonde pouted which looked adorable in your opinion.

“You started it.”, you reminded her smiling.

Both of you walked side by side, you left the shopping centre behind you as you made your way to the underground station.

Even after all the years you’ve lived in London now, you still got starstruck by their Christmas lights. Your girlfriend called your name and brought you back to the here and now.

“Sorry, I got distracted by the beauty of it. They’re especially pretty this year don’t you think?”, you apologized, a soft blush creeping up on your cheeks. That’s when you noticed the snowflakes falling to the earth, making the scenery even more magical.

“I couldn’t have planned it any better.”, Millie stated overjoyed.

“Planned what?”, you frowned confused.

“This.”, she replied sounding matter-of-factly, while kneeing down revealing the engagement ring which the defender had carried in her pocket all along.

“You weren’t looking for earrings.”, you muttered.

“I wasn’t. Will you marry me?”, the Chelsea player declared solemnly.

“Yes, I’ll, Millie. The ring is beautiful.”, you told her with tears in your eyes.

“You like it? I saw it and knew it had to be yours.”, Millie beamed.

“It’s so elegant, I love it.”, you answered truthfully.

“Just like you.”, the blonde whispered lovingly. She paused for a second before continuing with a cheeky smile on her face. “Now you can’t be mad about the dog sweaters anymore.”

“Oh my god.”, you groaned.

“Just joking.”, your fiancée reassured you, placing a gentle kiss to your lips.

“Let’s go home love. Also, we need to take a photo with the ring there as well as of the dogs in their Christmas jumpers for all the group chats.”, you hummed excitedly.

“We do.”, Millie agreed delighted by that prospect. When you stepped out at the underground station to walk the rest of the way home a thin layer of snow already covered the ground.

The season would be merry and bright indeed the blonde thought to herself and she couldn’t wait for you to take her last name.

lionesses group chat

y/n just posted..

Beth: Congrats, my loves! But where did you get those cute Christmas jumpers for your dogs? Myle wants one as well! 🥰

Alex: The cutest! Congrats 😍

Lucy: About damn time that you two tie the knot!!! 😂

Ella: So happy for you! 😍

Christmas/Winter Oneshots

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meazalykov · 2 months ago

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abnormal

barca femeni x reader

summary: nobody can know this about you, not unless you wanted your career to end

warnings: alternate and unrealistic universe

you’ve always felt like you didn’t quite belong, like there was a hidden thread connecting you to something no one else could see, relate to, or feel.

ever since you joined la masia, you focused on one thing: football. your love for the game, the thrill of defending against the best forwards that other teams could offer, the camaraderie—it was everything. football grounded you. it gave you purpose when your reality felt so strange.

strange because deep down, you carried a secret no one could ever know.

it wasn’t something you asked for. you weren’t bitten by a radioactive spider or hit by lightning. one day, when you were barely eleven, you kicked a ball across your backyard, and it didn’t just roll. it stopped. mid-air. it hovered for a moment, trembling, before flying back toward you.

your jaw dropped. you tried again, staring harder this time, and the ball moved without you touching it. the fear and thrill of it coursed through you like nothing else.

at first, it was exhilarating, like a private joke only you were in on. however, iit didn’t take long for fear to creep in. this wasn’t normal. no one else could do this, at least not anyone you knew. you stopped experimenting when strange things began happening without your control—your mom’s coffee cup exploding off the counter when you were upset, a book tumbling off your shelf after a nightmare.

you quickly learned to suppress it, to shove it deep down where no one could find it.

yet, as much as you hated it, you couldn’t deny it gave you an edge on the pitch. when you moved to barcelona and began training at la masia, your abilities became harder to ignore. you’d watch a ball curl just wide of the post and feel an ache to pull it back.

you’d see an opponent break past you and have the urge to drag them back, not with your body but with your mind.

you never let yourself. never once.

well, almost never.

tonight, in the second leg of the champions league semi-final against chelsea, you broke your own rules.

the game had been relentless. chelsea’s attack was aggressive, and you’d been stretched thin keeping up with their pace. 1-1 on aggregate, and the clock ticking toward the 90th minute, the tension on the pitch was suffocating. the stadium packed, the crowd being loud with every touch of the ball, but you barely heard them over the sound of your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

lauren james cut around you with a burst of speed you couldn’t match. she was lethal tonight, her movements unpredictable, her energy endless. you sprinted after her, desperate to close the space, but she was already setting up her shot. you glanced toward cata in goal—she was positioned, but the angle was tight. if lauren’s shot was on target, it’d be almost impossible to stop.

panic gripped you. time seemed to slow as lauren struck the ball, the power behind it undeniable.

before you could think, before you could stop yourself, you did it.

you reached out—not with your hands, but with your mind.

the ball veered sharply, impossibly, skyward. instead of heading toward the goal, it soared over the crossbar and into the crowd. the stadium fell into a stunned silence for half a beat before erupting in confusion. even lauren looked bewildered, turning to stare at the ball’s trajectory with disbelief written all over her face.

for a moment, it seemed like everyone thought the ball had gone in—it had been that close. but when it didn’t, the tension shattered.

you took a deep, shaky breath, your chest heaving as the adrenaline surged through you. your head started to throb, the telltale sign of your powers taking their toll, you didn’t care. the ball hadn’t gone in. barcelona still had a chance.

it was cheating, but there were no rules about telekinesis in fifa.

cata quickly reset the play, kicking the ball back into action, and you forced yourself to focus, to push the incident from your mind. as the minutes ticked down and the final whistle blew, signaling extra time, you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone might’ve noticed.

had anyone seen you? surely not—it wasn’t like you’d waved your hands around or made some dramatic gesture. you didn’t need to. your mind was enough. still, doubt bit at you.

the game ended with barcelona scraping through by the skin of their teeth. the celebrations on the pitch were euphoric, your teammates swarming each other with hugs and screams of joy. you joined in, smiling and cheering, but inside, you were terrified.

what if someone asked questions about lauren’s shot? what if there was footage? would people think it was just an awkward miss, or would they start looking at you?

you brushed it off as best you could, but the thought lingered for weeks.

it wasn’t the first time you’d used your powers, and you knew it wouldn’t be the last. every time you did though, the stakes felt higher. what if someone found out? what would happen to you? would you be banned from football forever? would they test you, experiment on you, torture you? the idea made your stomach turn.

months later, during the new season, you came dangerously close to being discovered.

it was a quiet afternoon after training, and you were alone in the locker room. your water bottle sat on the far bench, just out of reach. you were tired, your muscles aching, and without thinking, you let your guard down.

you focused on the bottle, willing it toward you quickly. it wobbled for a moment before lifting off the bench and gliding through the air, landing softly in your hand.

the relief was instant—until you heard voices. the locker room door swung open, and aitana and fridolina walked in, mid-conversation. you froze, the bottle clutched tightly in your hand, your heart racing. had they seen? you glanced at their faces, searching for any sign of suspicion, but they didn’t even look at you.

they just kept talking, grabbing their bags and saying goodbye to you like nothing had happened.

you exhaled slowly, your hands trembling as you shoved the bottle into your bag. it was too close. far too close. you promised yourself, again, that you’d be more careful. you couldn’t risk it. no matter how much you trusted your teammates, no matter how much you wanted to share your secret, you knew you never could.

this power—it wasn’t just a quirk. it was dangerous. it wasn’t just about what might happen to you if people found out. it was about what you could do. the temptation to use it in games, to bend the odds in your favor, was always there, lurking in the back of your mind. and the more you used it, the more the headaches grew, like your body was warning you that this wasn’t natural.

you couldn’t stop. not entirely.

for all the fear and doubt, for all the secrecy and guilt, there was something intoxicating about it. the power. the control. the ability to change the outcome of a match, to make the impossible possible. it was a part of you, whether you liked it or not.

as you sat in the locker room that day, alone again, you wondered how long you could keep it hidden. how long you could keep balancing on this knife’s edge, between the life you’d built and the secret that could tear it all apart.

you didn’t have an answer. for now, you’d do what you always did.

you’d keep playing. keep winning. keep pretending everything was normal.

and hope, desperately, that no one would ever find out.

masterlist

#barcelona femeni #fc barcelona #woso fanfics #woso community #woso x reader #alexia putellas #aitana bonmati #esmee brugts #ingrid engen

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semischarmed · 10 months ago

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River

River was a walking enigma.

Instagram, TikTok, Facebook- hell, I even tried looking for a yearbook. Nothing. I had nothing on the guy. Like an illusion, he merely appeared, did his work diligently and then promptly vanished. In fact, his most common phrase around the office was a “Sorry, I can’t- busy.” His distance seemed to put some people off. That only made me want him more.

When Chelsea threw a quitting party, he dropped in, chatted for a few minutes and then left without saying goodbye- except to Chelsea. He wasn’t rude by any means. I’ve only ever seen the guy be polite. I personally found it quite hot. His mysteriousness brought an allure about him.

During another quitting party- a dinner for Mark this time, I tried to make conversation, asking him why he was named River. I actually asked the question in a few roundabout ways. Most I ever got was a “just what my parents named me- they thought I’d have brown hair”. I tried to pry for his hobbies, asked what he did for fun and he only responded with a “I watch baseball, go to the gym, watch TV. I guess”, before asking me about mine. The conversation was cordial, and probably a little boring, but I was captivated. This had been the closest I ever sat next to him.

My breathing quickened, ever so slightly, as I watched his shirt struggle to contain the form within. I traced the vascularity in his hands, the craftsmanship in the sculpt of his neck, the fabric of his shirt stretching taut when he would reach to grab a napkin. There was a full plate of food in front of me but I was only salivating at one thing.

The conditions were not ideal- but what choice did I have? The guy was like a ghost. I laughed a bit at the irony. I sat right across, trying to filter the scents and the sounds of food and camaraderie to focus on him. This would take all my brain power. I steadied my breathing and sharpened my focus, as I continued to answer and ask mundane questions about some work projects we both had. I started my work, mimicking every microexpression, every slight movement. I tailored every word from my mouth- even my delivery to slowly match his. This had to be subtle, of course- I’ve found out the hard way in the past how creepy this process could look in public if done too quickly.

River’s eyes blinked slower, like a haze was forming in his mind. I followed suit, weaving my slight impersonation in and out of our conversation. Like a pulse, I felt our movements begin to sync. Almost there. Now came the tough part, slowly drawing him out and isolating him without lo-

“C’mon, let’s all get shots- uh… River you ok bro?” Mark asked.

He shook off his daze, surprised at himself before laughing off the weirdness.

I was pissed the rest of the night, forcing myself to hide the permanent glare I would have worn for Mark.

As the night drew on, River left early- of course, and I continued on, staying a bit longer to wish Mark well in one final toast for the night.

That would be the last time in a while I’d be so close to him. The following drought was unbearable. For the next few months, no one quit. No big holidays were coming up, and our office wasn’t much for parties. Instead, I had to satiate myself with glances and the occasional short conversation.

= = = =

“Does that work for you two?” My boss asked. I nodded readily, eyeing River’s response. Another nod.

Fuck. I practically jumped when the boss said those words. A presentation. A presentation with River. A chance.

I think I deserved an Oscar for my acting in the few weeks after we were both tasked with the presentation. A wrong font here, corrupted save there, a missed chart. I “worked” tirelessly on the presentation with River, making sure to leave enough mistakes and gaps to drag the process out.

The guy was too polite, and I knew I had to use that against him. I ran the clock, watching the days progress into weeks and his brow furrow as stress deepened. Of course, I had to play my part, acting innocent at every step. A quick “sorry” for every mistake I planted was enough to ease suspicion. I even faked a confession about roommate drama causing my decline in performance. I thanked how private he was in that moment- I lived alone. Ever the hero, River was quick to take on the responsibility- even covering for me on few occasions. I knew I had to get inside this man.

Then came the day before the big presentation.

“I- uh… okay. Maybe we can finish this at my apartment,” He stated, clearly uncomfortable. I held back a moan.

= = = =

“You can set your stuff down there”.

It was a bit boring compared to what I expected. He was definitely put together at work, so it was a bit surprising to see some mess littering his apartment.

A few posters dotted the walls. Some basketball guy, I guess. An action movie. A generic college banner. His furniture boxy and grey, and the carpets running through the floors were in need of cleaning. Perhaps unsurprisingly, his kitchen was pristine, practically sparkling, aside from a small collection of protein powders and supplements.

“Uh.. sorry I don’t really have any snacks.”

He sheepishly opened the near-empty fridge and offered me a choice in drink. Some kind of pre-workout beverage and water. I took the water.

“Okay, I need to head to the gym for a bit. You still have a few slides you wanted to add, right?” A Hoodie-wearing, duffel-toting River asked. I nodded, trying not to look too eager and straining to keep my eyes from staring at his well-defined legs.

And then, there I was. Alone in River’s apartment. Alone with River’s apartment. I ran to his dirty laundry pile.

“Mmmphhhh” My eyes rolled back as I took the deepest inhale of my life. These were River’s boxer briefs. The same ones he had just worn. Doused in the scent of a day’s work. It was damp- guess River was a sweaty guy, though the long walk and couple flights of stairs to get to his apartment may have also been culprit. I was paralyzed in bliss, as I took in every note of his natural musk.

It reverberated deep in my chest as I continued to circulate every ounce of River I could inside me. The underwear was practically glued to my nose and mouth before I finally relented and drew them away, gasping for air. Exquisite.

My dick jumped at the sight of a single strand of his pubic hair, like flickering flame. A perverse smile planted itself on my face as I gingerly pulled my clothes off. I shivered as the cold, damp fabric that had just touched his bare flesh was now touching mine. I felt his hair on my flesh, now caked in his sweat. The elastic snapped around my waist as I released, a bit tight. My breaths fell shallow, ragged as I sat there basking in his cold embrace.

Next came the tank top. I mentally hit myself for not putting it on first, as it was a significantly less erotic experience. Still, as I slipped my arms through the holes that his once filled, my dick couldn’t help but twitch in approval.

I ran to his bed, gripped his sheets, and stifled another moan with his pillow. This man had, until today, been a full on mystery to me. And now, here I was- deep in the recesses of his apartment, nestled in the indent on his bed, buried in fabric stained with traces his scent and natural grime. I was drowning in the all aspects of his daily life. It was an intimacy with River previously unheard of and practically a miracle I hadn’t cummed yet.

The next few moments were sluggish, mind hazy and drunk in pleasure, as I wore my jacket and pants over the River clothes I had already had on me. I mentally thanked myself for wearing tighter clothing earlier today, as I felt them compress River’s undergarments tighter on my flesh. I walked back, sitting on the dining table and pretending to work.

A few minutes later, the door clicked open and a panting River waved. He no longer had a hoodie on and left nothing to imagination. I eyed the feast before me.

I fucking knew it. This kid was ripped.

I salivated as my eyes followed every contour of the body that would soon be mine. His flesh was flush and glistening with sweat.

“M-must have been some workout,” I mumbled. I couldn’t stop myself from staring.

“Yeah, fucking kicked my ass today,” River said with a short laugh. My dick twitched. River never swore, never gave off a jockish vibe at work, but here he was, beaten tired and unable to contain his natural state behind a facade of politeness.

My lip quivered when his post-workout scent wafted into my nose. It was divine. True to his name, River had an earthy, deep musk about him. A delayed, almost sour afternote followed, the kind that clings to the nose. It riled me up, knowing this offensive, raw blast of testosterone had been working next to me for the past two years, hidden by layers of work clothes and pleasantries. River was cleaned, masked and sanitized for corporate America. And now I had a private showing to it. I was feral. I wanted-no, needed to be piloting this hunk for myself.

My trance was broken when River dropped to his couch, laughing slightly. This wasn’t his normal laugh- it dropped all pretense and I recoiled out of reflex, thinking back to that same laugh that emanated from the football jocks back in high school.

A lazy pair of eyes drifted up to meet me. “Sorry bro, just new a few minutes.”

I gulped. This was my chance. No need for precision, no need for focus. River was vulnerable. In any other circumstance, I’d be syncing to his movements, slowly, imperceptibly altering his as he would start following mine. Then I could pull him into my trance, lead him to a safe area as I continued the process. This was different. River served himself up on a platter for me, beaten to near immobility by his workout. No way was I gonna miss this. I stripped quickly, abandoning my original plan.

Without a word, I walked closer to him, grabbing his wrists.

“W-what are you”. In that instant, i jumped on top of him, allowing my body to follow the contours of his.

He grunted in defiance while I began to grind in pleasure. “Ughhh! Fuck bro. I can’t! I can’t wait. I can’t wait to be River!”

The process was quick- his drenched, energy drained flesh practically grabbed at mine, drawn by my own energy into itself. It was osmosis. I moaned as I saw the process start, and River’ meaty form encapsulate my own. His arms and legs splayed as he screamed at the intrusion. “What the fuck are you-“ He grunted in pain as he felt our two forms begin to meld. I laughed a perverted laugh, eyeing how deep I was inside him. His lack of energy had been his downfall.

I licked the inside of his head, feeling him shiver and whimper at the intrusion. I whispered venomously. “What am I doing?” I thrusted myself deeper into his muscled form, “I’m becoming River. I’m gonna wear you like a fine red suit.” I felt my facial muscles match his and pulled him into a smile he did not intend to make. “You boring prude. This body was built for sex. You’re starving this poor thing. I bet it’s backed up.” I whined in half-whispers. “Let me take you for a ride.” River moaned in horror, kicking his legs into the sofa in discomfort as his muscled back began to close over me. Possessing the ginger felt like a warm, dank hug. “You feel that?” I teased, this time his voice mimicking mine. He could no longer respond as it had become my mouthpiece. Instead, his head repeatedly slammed the sofa in resistance, forced to wear a smile that was not his own.

I laughed, feeling our combined chest heave in deep pleasure as I jammed my fingers deep into each bicep. I drilled into each arm, relishing in feeling his muscle fibers slip past me. Power. He shook as he tried in vain to resist my fingers filling into his. Putting on those vascular hands like well-fitted gloves. “Fuck yeah bro… that’s the stuff. Dominate me. Command me. Control my every move. My nerves are itching for their owner. Put this ginger meatsuit on…” I mock in his voice. Tears welled in my eyes, as I felt him continue to slam our slowly merging head into the sofa. I purse our lips before moaning further. “Wear my clothes…” My legs wove into his, twisting and binding into one. “Wear my personality…” the bottom half of our merged face laughs, while my new eyes blink away angered tears. I felt his memories begin to flow and surround mine. His rage and desperation flowed through me. The slamming slowed, coming to a complete halt as a reborn River’s eyes blinked into a lewd, sinful glee. “Wear my life.”

I stood up, piloting my new body towards the mirror. “You’re still in there, aren’t you?” River’s outward defiance no longer showed over his perfect flesh but his mind was a raging storm. “Good.” His body lit in searing pain, sore muscle tendon and fiber forced to flex. I felt the storm calm as he was stunned. I myself winced slightly before my arousal imprinted itself through River’s face. This was my pain now. I could feel every fiber of his musculature tearing and repairing themselves. Building back stronger with the pre-workout mix he had drunken earlier. Building back with me embedded deep inside. Our leg wobbled in pain, before I slapped it back into submission, forcing it to flex. “Fuck yeah, that’s the stuff.”

I roared and patted my new chest and abs. “YEEAAAH!” Just one last piece of me was left. An intentional dessert I had left not internally bonded with River.

I let his normally stoic face relay the erotic pleasure I felt in wearing this flesh. I then pulled a “serious” face, bringing pained biceps into a flex. “We gotta live up to our name bro… gotta let the river flow”. A greedy tongue licked the dripping sweat hanging off ginger hairs of his armpit. I wanted to savor this. The tangy, salty nectar lingered in our shared tongue before I began to make out with my new reflection. With a grunt, I slammed River’s pelvis into the mirror, groaning as my growing hard-on began to fill into his dick. At first contact, I felt our senses mingle and the cold metal of the mirror. I grunted, trying to reign in the lust. With our linked sensitivity, I could feel my original body’s dick worming itself into my soon to be River-flavored cock. I thrusted my rod up, relishing in the soothing bare metal beneath the perverse cock and cock sleeve combination.

I grabbed at my new rod with one hand, while the other greedily dragged across my new body, feeling every new muscle and crevice and damp piece of the hunk. River thrashed inside me, disgusted at feeling his own flesh violate itself. At watching this new carnal entity that wore his face and name.

“S-someone’s gonna find out. Someone will fix this” He threatened in my mind.

“No bro… you’re the perfect host. No one at work knows a thing about you”. I cooed in his voice. “When we quit, when I take this thick ginger cock for a joy ride-“ tug “No one…” tug “No one will know.” I groaned as the last of his dick bonded to mine. We were complete. “I’m River now!” I shouted before devolving into whimpers of pleasure as I felt River’s warm seed stream out of me.

River’s softening, sore wood was forced back into full mast as I eyed the full extent of my- now his- depravity. Not wanting to waste a drop, I smeared my new lotion onto my new flesh, caking in layers of his drying sweat with layers of drying semen. I could only hear gagging in my mind as River was forced to taste his own produce. It’s my body now anyways, why shouldn’t it reek of sex and his natural musk?

#male possession #male merge #male corruption #male skinsuit

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winedarkthoughts · 2 months ago

Text

how to submit

↳🔒 pairing: dom!jimin x sub!fem.reader (feat. taehyung and jungkook)

↳📓 genre: bdsm!au, slight angst + fluff (aftercare)

↳☕ word count: 6.8k

↳🍳 summary: after countless unfulfilled nights, you finally cave and seek out the services of a professional dominant to meet your needs.

↳🕶 content warnings: anxiety, sex work, mentions of internalized kink/slut shaming, pre-established boundaries, master/sub dynamics, blindfolds, rope bondage, touch starvation,

↳🍕 a/n: inspired by transference by dark-muse-iris on ao3.

You never thought you’d ever regret arriving somewhere early. Until this exact moment.

It gave you too much time to overthink it all. It being the fact that, in just a few minutes, you’d be discussing the details of your very first professional BDSM session.

You chose a table on the cafe’s sunny patio instead of inside, since the chatter outside meant a lower chance of any other patrons overhearing the quickly approaching conversation. A conversation you never thought you’d actually be having with a real person. Not face to face, at least.

You’re clutching your iced coffee in your hands, using the chill to ground you.

Honestly, you’re impressed with yourself for going through with this, for giving yourself something you’ve always wanted. If you can manage to get through the initial nerves, maybe you’ll even allow yourself to enjoy it.

Just as you’re about to check the clock for the twenty-sixth time, you hear someone approaching your table. Several someones.

Throat momentarily closing, all you can think is don’t freeze, don’t freeze, don’t freeze. You can’t make yourself look up until they’re hovering at the edge of the table, waiting for you to acknowledge them.

First your gaze meets their shoes. Two pairs of sneakers and one pair of black Chelsea boots. You only force your eyes to move any higher until you hear one of them say your name in a questioning tone.

A beat of silence...that becomes much too long.

You take a deep breath, swallow hard, and think of the only string of words that helps you push yourself out of your comfort zone.

Fuck it.

“Hi,” you finally respond. “Yes, that’s me. Please, have a seat.”

They take you up on your offer with polite, and slightly relieved, smiles.

“I’m Jimin.” The man wearing the boots says cheerfully, extending a hand for you to shake. He’s dressed in a button-up coat, blonde hair styled up out of his face.

He slips the chic black sunglasses off his nose, revealing a pair of kind brown eyes. He’s very attractive, almost unfairly so. It makes you want to avoid eye contact.

The one wearing a white t-shirt and backwards cap makes that easier by introducing himself next.

“Taehyung,” he says, shaking your hand as well.

He’s gorgeous too damnit, with black hair curling at the nape of his neck under his hat.

Move on, move on. Immediately averting your eyes, you turn to the third man.

“I’m Jungkook, it’s nice to meet you,” he says shaking your hand firmly.

You’ve got to be kidding. Wide, doe eyes, long brown hair hanging in front of his face. He’s dressed in joggers and an oversized sweatshirt, all black.

Every single one of them is extremely attractive. You can’t tell if it makes this whole thing easier or harder.

“Thank you all for meeting with me,” you say, looking at each of them very briefly before returning your eyes to your drink.

“Thank you for contacting us! We're excited to discuss some details,” Jimin replies, sounding enthusiastic.

Your gut does a little flip.

You’re reminded of the fact that before scheduling this initial consultation, you’d spoken at length with Jimin online about your preferences for the session. But there’s something about being a faceless avatar, about hiding behind a screen, that gave you enough courage to talk openly about your fantasies. In-person was another story.

The fact that the three of them had all agreed to meet with you, had all agreed that you’d be “a good fit,” was somehow just as unnerving as it was reassuring.

It made perfect sense for all of them to be in the know about their clients, they were business partners after all, and you should be glad to hear that they were considering taking you on, but something about being the one with all their cards showing...it makes you squirm.

Maybe he senses how nervous you are, because then Jimin is suggesting that they go order something themselves. Jimin and Taehyung get up to go inside the cafe, leaving you alone with Jungkook.

You’re equally relieved and nervous at the fact. On one hand, it discourages you from making a hasty, anxiety-fueled escape that you’d most likely regret later. On the other hand, you now have to make conversation while simultaneously pretending that you aren’t sweating straight through your clothes.

Stealing a glance, you watch him brush the fluffy hair out of his eyes. He looks at you warmly, calmly.

There’s something about Jungkook that makes him a little less intimidating compared to Taehyung and Jimin. Maybe it’s his oversized clothes or his doe eyes. Either way, you feel a little less apprehensive around him.

“So, how’d you hear about us?” he asks, saving you from the awkward silence. You suppose they must be used to dealing with nervous newcomers.

“Oh umm...google.”

Mmm hmm “google.” That’s the short version. You don’t mention how it took you weeks to simply type “BDSM” plus the name of your city into the search bar.

Not to mention the hours spent staring at the glowing screen in an otherwise dark room (secrets seem safest in the dark), plucking up the courage to finally admit that you have kinky desires, let alone book a consultation.

“Oh yeah? Most people seem to find us through social media,” Jungkook replies.

Yes, you’ve looked into their social media platforms. They’re quite popular on Instagram and TikTok. They don’t show their full faces in their videos though, only partially. You suppose that makes perfect sense if you want to retain some anonymity or have a side gig, but after seeing how attractive they all are, you can’t but think that they’d be even more popular if they—

“Is this your first time?” Jungkook asks. It must’ve looked like you were spacing out, because he’s tilting his head trying to catch your gaze.

You meet his eyes for a moment before shifting your focus down to your fidgeting hands.

“Mm hm. Yup.”

“First time engaging in kink or first time with a professional dom?”

Jungkook tucks a strand of hair behind his ear. When your eyes flick up to follow the action, he’s still watching you with that warm smile on his face.

It’s hard for you to believe that the endearing man sitting in front of you is a “professional dom,” as he calls it. Especially when his form is engulfed by his humongous clothes, sleeves hanging well past his wrists.

You don’t realize that he’s asked you a question until he cocks his head to the side, waiting patiently.

“Oh! Umm, sorry. Kind of both I guess,” you answer.

He chuckles, and all you can think is oh god he’s laughing at me oh god this was a bad idea this—

“You don’t have to be so nervous, you know,” he says reassuringly. “I know our website says we can be selective with our clients, but we already think you’d be a good fit. I mean, Jimin was pretty much sold after he read your responses to the prompts.”

You remember answering those prompts. After you’d mustered up the courage to reach out to them, the application process began with an individual profile and a questionnaire. You remember being equally impressed and intimidated by their attention to detail.

Most of the questions were pretty basic (kinks, preferences, boundaries), but towards the end they delved far deeper than you expected, asking things like why does BDSM appeal to you, what’s your own definition of a healthy, consensual scene, what made you seek out the services of a professional dom, etc.

And yes, maybe you got a little carried away with your responses since no one had ever expressed interest in them before, but obviously it benefited you in the end.

A bit of tension eases inside your chest, along with an exhale of relief.

“Ah, that’s good to hear,” you breathe out, cracking your first real smile, and Jungkook returns it with earnest.

“So, um, how long have you guys been doing this?” you ask, finally starting to find your voice after Jungkook shared that bit of comforting information.

“Five years now. Really, it’s crazy how time has flown by,” Jungkook says. “It started out as a hobby. I met Jimin and Tae at a Fetish Con, and we just instantly hit it off.”

You try and fail to imagine Jungkook’s sweater and joggers switched for latex and chains. It’s a little hard to picture him being assertive at all, really.

“We started growing and networking, and soon it turned from a side gig to a real business! We’re really lucky to get to do what we love for a living.”

His eyes shine with passion, and it’s clear that he genuinely enjoys his work.

It reassures you even more. One of the reasons you’d never engaged in any kind of kink before was because of a persistent fear of the other person feeling burdened by your desires. You’d never felt comfortable enough to divulge any of your kinks in case your partner was only going along with it because of you and not truly enjoying it themselves.

By using the services of a professional dom, it was much more likely that they would derive just as much pleasure as you during the experience. And you wouldn’t have to feel guilty because you were compensating them for their time.

“So, how long have you been interested in this kind of stuff?” he asks, voice filled with good-natured curiosity.

In an instant, you’re brought back to every sleepless, unfulfilled night. Every time one of your past partners couldn’t get you to cum, every time you were left wanting more after vanilla sex.

That same ache, the ache that comes with wanting something you’re ashamed of, creeps right back into your mind. An itch left unscratched for too long.

You’re brought back to the glow of your laptop screen in the dead of night, fingers hesitating over the keyboard in your desperate search. At first, a search for like-minded people so you wouldn’t feel so alone. Then, eventually, for someone willing to scratch the itch itself.

Jungkook brings you back to the present by fiddling with his earrings.

“Umm...awhile,” you finally reply.

Even though your response is brief, Jungkook still nods his head in understanding.

“Vanilla just doesn’t do it, huh?” he asks playfully.

“No, not really,” you say, chuckling along with him.

“Sometimes...” you begin, trying to find the words to describe it. “Sometimes it’s not even about sex at all. Sometimes it’s about the catharsis, you know? I just want to turn my brain off sometimes, give someone else the reins, if that makes any sense?”

Jungkook nods, a knowing smile on his lips.

“I think we’re gonna get along real well,” he says.

It’s then that Jimin and Taehyung return with their order, placing various drinks and pastries on the table.

“Caffe latte and butter croissant,” Taehyung says, passing said items to Jimin.

“Hot chocolate and cinnamon roll,” Jimin replies, passing said items to Taehyung.

“And a cold brew with a peanut butter cookie,” Taehyung finishes, passing said items to Jungkook.

You notice that Jungkook never told them his order. Either they took a lucky guess, or they must know each other pretty well.

“Everything going okay over here?” Jimin asks, shooting you another radiant grin.

You can only hold eye contact for a few seconds, feeling blinded. They’re so handsome it’s almost criminal.

“Mm hmm,” you mumble, sipping on your coffee to distract yourself.

“Good, good,” Jimin replies, running a hand through his hair.

He stirs a few sugars into his latte, lazily swirling the spoon as he scans you up and down.

“So, were you looking for recurring services?” he asks.

Your hands tighten around your cup.

Yes, yes you are. But is that too much to ask? Will that scare them away? Do they even do that sort of thing?

Clearing your throat, you remind yourself why you’re here. Fuck it.

“Mm hmm,” you affirm with downcast eyes, fighting the shame bubbling up in your throat. “If that’s okay with you guys. If the first session goes well, I mean. You know, if you do that kind of thing. And if you’re willing, you know.”

You hear them chuckle.

“Of course!” Jimin says, cheerful as ever.

You don’t see it, but he’s been trying to catch your gaze ever since he sat down.

“But I’m getting ahead of myself,” Jimin jokes. “For the first session, we usually recommend a one-on-one scene so you can get comfortable.”

Now you’re focused on picking at the skin around your nails, honed in on every word they’re saying despite avoiding eye contact at all costs.

“Okay, sounds good,” you reply.

Jimin tilts his head to the side, an amused smile on his face.

He can tell that you’re nervous, and that you’re shying away from his gaze. But you have nothing to worry about, if only he could express that with his eyes if you’d just look at him.

“Do you have any preference when it comes to who conducts your first scene?” Taehyung asks.

They all know that Jimin usually volunteers for the first session. He’s the best at planning and easing in the newbies, establishing the sacred trust that makes their job so fulfilling. He always enjoys chipping away at the exterior, no matter how tough, to get at the soft center that just wants love and acceptance and relief.

You shake your head, still looking anywhere but their faces.

“Alright then,” Jimin says, immediately deciding that he wants to be the one to break down your walls and give you what you really need.

“So all that’s left is the consent forms, since you’ve already completed the questionnaire,” Jimin continues, handing over a few sheets of paper.

Oh god, it’s really happening. Holy fuck...

You can hardly believe it. Heart beating fast and loud enough to worry that they might hear it, you take the forms and scribble out the last few signatures.

It’s okay you dumb bitch, you hear in your head. Just calm down and don’t fuck this up.

Jimin calls your name and you whip your head up, only to avert your eyes immediately.

“Sorry, sorry!” you blurt out almost instinctively. “I’m just a little nervous.”

“No worries!” Jungkook replies, tilting his head to the side to try to catch your gaze like Jimin is still doing.

But your eyes dart around to avoid looking at any of them.

You’re a tough nut to crack, all three of them will admit that much.

You don’t see it, but Taehyung and Jungkook look at each other, sharing a knowing smile. They all enjoy a challenge, especially when the challenge presents such a compelling reward. Because from the looks of it, you share all of the same interests, values, and boundaries that they're compatible with.

Once you hand back the forms, Jimin pulls out a black composition notebook.

Taehyung and Jungkook know what that means. Now you're getting into the thick of it, the juicy details.

Jimin always takes detailed notes, preferring to flesh out the scene in writing so it practically comes alive under his hands. Taehyung and Jungkook will take occasional notes, on their phones or on post-its, preferring to listen and let their imagination fill in the gaps. But Jimin finds a particular joy in acting as the main orchestrator of each session.

Your first scene will be first and foremost about building trust, Jimin tells you.

"We'll get you nice and comfortable with the dynamic, exploring what works best," he explains enthusiastically, pen twirling in his hand.

The scene will be bondage-focused, nonsexual, with Jimin as your dom.

There's a swarm of butterflies in your stomach, and it isn't helped by the fact that Jimin still keeps trying to hold eye contact with you.

The four of you chat for a while longer, discussing the finer details. Jimin advises you to wear comfortable clothing, and to show up well-rested and hydrated.

You can't believe this is actually happening.

"I should probably let you know," you begin, hesitantly. "I have an anxiety disorder, and there is a possibility that I might have some sort of...attack."

They're watching you so intently, and their eyes are filled with nothing but openness and understanding. You're not used to it.

"That's perfectly fine. We're quite familiar with working with anxiety. If you have an attack or feel one coming on, we'll be there to help you through it. Make sure to bring your medication, if you take any," Taehyung advises.

You nod, mostly to yourself, making a mental note to bring extra pills to the session. You're hoping that the scene will be a temporary relief from your anxiety, but there's always the possibility that your mind will find a way to sabotage that.

"Thank you for letting us know," Jimin says, giving you another warm glance.

It makes a different kind of warmth bloom in your stomach, the warmth of understanding and acceptance.

You sign a few more forms, discuss a few more details. Then the four of you are shaking hands and saying your goodbyes.

You walk away from the cafe with a racing heartbeat, equal parts nervous and excited.

You're early again, sitting in your car in the tiny parking lot. Their location is in a downtown neighborhood of old, cottage-like houses that have been converted into small businesses, all painted neutral shades of blue and white.

The sign by the driveway reads P.K.J. It's their surnames (Park, Kim, Jeon), nondescript and unassuming. Though if you were to look at it a different way, the P could very well be a cursive D, and the J could be a swirling letter S. DKS, Designed Kink Scenes. The name of their BDSM service.

So you know you're in the right place, and the minutes are quickly ticking by.

It's a cute little place, with a cobblestone pathway leading to the front door and flowerbeds under lush trees shading the yard. Not at all what you'd expect when you think of a sex dungeon. Or...whatever they would call their place of business.

You came close to bailing several times, your anxiety seeming to creep up your throat as your breathing picked up speed. But after popping a few prescription pills, you were able to calm yourself down. And you know you really want this. If you chickened out now, you know you'd regret it.

So when the clock strikes five till, you take a deep breath and force yourself out of the car, muttering another quiet fuck it to yourself.

There's an intercom button next to the door, and you press it after wiping the sweat from your palms.

"Hello! Who is it?" a chipper voice calls, sounding like Jungkook.

"Hi!" you squeak out, maybe sounding a little too excited. "It's ____, I'm here for my...appointment."

Appointment? Session? You aren't sure what to call it. But Jungkook knows what you mean.

"Okay! Jimin will be there in just a minute!"

You're only kept waiting about fifteen seconds. The door opens to reveal Jimin dressed in jeans and black cap, greeting you with a radiant grin.

"Hi! Glad you could make it," he says, every bit as cheerful as Jungkook, but there's a mischievous tone to his voice. He gives you a slight smirk as he opens the door wider to let you in.

Ah. He must've seen you waiting in your car for the last twenty minutes, anxiously twitching and talking to yourself as you debated on whether to abandon the entire endeavor.

"Ha ha," you say awkwardly, deadpan. Jimin just chuckles, as if to say just teasing.

You enter into what looks like a very small waiting room. Clean carpets, thriving houseplants, calming paintings on the walls, and two plush armchairs.

There's comfortable silence as Jimin leads you up a set of narrow stairs and into another room. It's painted in the same neutral colors, beige and cream, with floor mats to soften the ground. Various cabinets and dressers line the walls, and you don't have to guess what they're storing.

"Alright," Jimin says, cracking his knuckles after he closes the door behind you. The small gesture sends shivers down your spine.

"Go ahead and put your stuff down here and disrobe to your comfort level."

You do as he says, setting down your bag and slipping off your shoes. Just being in your socks seems strangely vulnerable. You opted for a pair of comfortable leggings and loose tank top, not quite ready to show any more skin than strictly necessary.

Jimin digs through a few drawers, and when he turns around, several bundles of rope hang from his hands. It's then that you notice how the muscles of his arms strain against the sleeves of his gray sweater.

He's a lean man, but certain parts of his body are especially defined. His thick thighs in those jeans, the sharp jawline and chiseled neck, the way his top slopes down the slight curve of his chest. Even his hands, distinctly veined and sinewy, are eye-catching.

He's looking at you from under his cap, calculating.

“Come here,” he says, his voice gentle but firm.

You immediately step onto the mat where he wants you.

The ropes still dangling from his hand, he begins to walk in a slow circle around you, methodically scanning you up and down.

“Tell me your safe word,” he commands gently.

“Turtleneck,” you reply, earning a small smile from him.

“Good.” Just that one word makes you feel weak in the knees, because something in his voice changes. His tone deepens, seeming to curl around the edges, and it drips with authority. It says you will listen now, I’m in charge.

“Here’s what's going to happen,” he says, still circling around you. “I'm going to tie you up, and then we'll talk for a bit."

Your brows furrow slightly, eyes fixed to the bamboo-colored mat under your feet.

"Talk?" you say. About what?

"Yes," Jimin replies swiftly. "I'd like to get to know you, _______."

Somehow, that idea is more terrifying than everything else combined.

Again, you offer nothing but another awkward, deadpan laugh.

"Won't you kneel for me?" His voice drips like poisonous honey.

You swallow the nervous buildup in your throat, and after a few moments of hesitation, you drop to the floor one knee at a time.

Jimin smiles at you, pleased.

"Good," he praises. "We'll go nice and slow, okay? I know you're nervous."

How does he manage to sound so comforting and authoritative at the same time? It's something about his voice, naturally high-pitched but with an edge that he uses to his advantage.

You manage a nod.

"And from now on, I'd like you to use your words," he instructs.

You nod again, but he raises an eyebrow at you.

"Uh, yes, okay," you mutter.

The corner of Jimin's mouth twitches like he isn't quite satisfied. He begins to circle you again.

"Hmm, what should I have you call me?" he says, half to himself.

There's a pause of reflection, and you start to ask a question before you can help it. Jimin looks at you after you cut yourself off.

"Speak, lovely," he instructs. Being called "lovely" from anyone else would surely make you cringe, but somehow Jimin makes it work effortlessly, making your face heat up a bit at being the target of a pet name.

"What do you like to be called?" you ask curiously. You may be paying him to perform a service, but kink is a two-way street, and you want him to enjoy himself as much as possible too.

He offers another radiant smile in response.

"What a good question," he practically purrs, smirking slightly.

You're starting to descend into that special headspace. You're being good, you're pleasing him.

"I'd like to be your Master, if you'd let me," he says, maintaining strong eye contact.

It makes you rip your eyes away and look down at the floor.

"Yes...Master," you say with a little effort. It's a bit awkward, but you want to please him.

"Look at me," Jimin orders, more firmly.

Now, that takes even more effort. Jimin is a particularly hard man to look in the eyes. You were hoping to avoid it for as long as possible.

"That's an order, lovely," he says, soft yet stern.

It takes you a minute, you'll admit. You feel the tell-tale signs of anxiety, ants under your skin, twitching fingers, darting eyes. Your heart rate is rising rapidly.

"Hey," Jimin suddenly says, dropping to one knee in front of you. He puts a cautious yet comforting hand on the side of your face, and when you melt into it instead of jerking away (surprising even yourself), he lets his thumb stroke across your cheek.

"You're okay, ______," he says soothingly. "You're here with me, I've got you."

The touch helps, calming down your heart rate a bit. It gives you the strength to finally meet his eyes.

They're warm and soft and concerned, drinking in your reactions. They crinkle a bit with his smile when you meet his gaze.

"Good, good girl," he says.

It sends another wave of comfort through you.

"Do you want to stop? Take a break?" he asks.

"No," you blurt out almost immediately. If you stop now you'll have to ease back into that headspace. No, you can work through this. Your anxiety won't beat you this time.

Deep breath, in through the nose and out through the mouth, like your therapist taught you. You're fine, you're grounded, you got this.

"I want to keep going," you say, putting effort into communicating your desires.

"You sure?" he asks.

You nod with a smile of your own, and then remember what he said.

"Yes," you reply. Then playfully add, "Master."

He smiles again and nods, rising back to a stand.

"How about we try this," he says, going to one of the drawers and shuffling around. He returns with a length of white cloth.

"Then you won't have to think about what you see," he adds.

Glancing at him briefly, you nod in agreement.

Jimin steps behind you and wraps the cloth around your eyes, tying it behind your head while being careful not to pull your hair. When the knot is secure, he smooths down the material so you're well and truly blind.

"How's that?" he asks.

"Good," you reply. The darkness helps. Just like he said, it's one less thing to think about.

"I'm sorry," you blurt out, self-consciousness creeping in.

"None of that, lovely," Jimin replies, still calm yet strict. "I won't have it. There's nothing to apologize for."

Still, the same gloomy feeling lingers a bit.

"If you still feel the need, you can say "thank you" instead," he suggests.

A pause.

"Thank you." Then you add hesitantly, "Master."

You hear him chuckle.

"Very good."

He's approaching you again, along with the sound of rope being threaded through his hands.

"I'm going to put you in a type of chest harness that will restrict your arms, is that alright?" Jimin asks.

''Alright," you reply, shifting on your knees, eager to really get started.

"Give me your wrists."

You obey, holding them out in front of you.

He starts to loop the rope around them, at one point using two fingers to test the tightness. You can't see what he's doing, but you feel the slight burn from the rope, the tug as knots are secured.

"So tell me, _______," Jimin begins as he works the rope. "What do you do for a living?"

You give him the small-talk answer, simple and lacking details.

"Hmm, do you enjoy it?"

Ah, no one's ever asked you that before. Not even relatives at family gatherings.

"Enough, I suppose," you reply, beginning to feel the first stirrings of vulnerability. "I mean, it's nice to work alone for the most part, and the work isn't that laborious."

Jimin hums to himself like he's thinking.

"Do you enjoy being alone?" he asks.

A pause.

"Yes," you finally reply. "It's safer, I guess. I only really feel safe when I'm alone."

"Hmm, palms together," he orders, and you obey.

Jimin guides your arms up so your tied wrists are held above your head, then he gently moves your arms to bend at the elbow, your hands now resting near the back of your neck.

You can't help but gasp when he pulls on the rope to wrench them back just a little further.

"Color?" he asks cooly.

"Green," you answer, a little breathless. You're starting to feel it now, the sense of helplessness that comes with being bound. With every passing minute, he's making you more immobile. And it makes heat coil lower and deeper.

Then he's using the tail end of the rope binding your wrists to wrap around your torso.

"Introverted, huh?" he asks, starting to wrap the rope around your chest. A pass underneath your breasts, then up to your shoulder, down the other shoulder, then just above your breasts.

"Yes," you answer, slightly out of breath from the speed at which he's now tying you. "Always have been. It's a little annoying, to be honest."

"Oh? How so?" Jimin asks, tying off the knot.

"Well," you begin, the blindness and chest harness making you feel more vulnerable. "I wish I could enjoy being with people more. But I'm just so picky with who I spend my time with."

Jimin hums as he checks the tightness of the tie.

"There's nothing wrong with being selective about your company. Life is short, after all," he says.

Your upper body is now restricted, rope weaving around your chest, arms bent back. You can hear Jimin uncoiling another spool of rope.

"I'd like to secure you to the ceiling. Is that okay?" he asks.

You nod, feeling your mind go a bit fuzzy.

"I'll wait," Jimin says, sounding a bit more stern.

"Yes," you blurt out, remembering to verbalize. "That's okay."

"That's a good girl," he practically purs, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

You nearly shiver. Jimin notices.

You can hear him stringing the rope to some kind of hook in the ceiling, and then he's connecting it to the rope binding your wrists.

"Are you cruel?" you can't help but blurt out.

He freezes for a split second, then he lets out a chuckle.

"Do I seem cruel?" he says playfully. Then he yanks at the rope so you feel a little jerk, and it sends a jolt through your stomach.

"Only in the good way," you manage to reply.

He chuckles again, a light, tinkling sound.

"I can get cruel at times," he says. "But only towards those that deserve it."

"Do you think I deserve it?" you blurt out again, feeling bold.

There's a pause of silence.

"Maybe. We'll see," he says softly.

Footsteps as he walks around you in a slow circle.

"So work is just okay. What about relationships?" he asks.

You move your head a little towards where you think he is in the room.

"Not the best either. Haven't really been involved in anything long term in a while," you reply.

"And why is that?"

You hesitate, squirming a little in your bonds.

"I guess I have trouble trusting people. And I've never been comfortable enough with anyone to tell them about my...sexual proclivities," you admit, looking towards the ground even though you're blindfolded.

"Hmm, and how long have you had kinky desires," Jimin asks, sounding genuinely interested, still circling you in slow measured steps.

It makes you feel a bit like a bug under a microscope.

"Ever since I can remember," you say, and it feels like ripping a bandaid off. "I remember fantasizing about being tied up before I even knew what sex was. When I shared that with my ex, he called me a freak. I didn't want to tell anyone else after that."

"That's quite a common experience with kinky people, feeling alienated. But there's a lot of us out there who fully understand and embrace the way power dynamics and sex are intertwined. It's just a matter of finding people you connect with," Jimin says.

You feel a little wave of relief wash over you, because it seems that you found exactly that. Maybe your seemingly endless feeling of dissatisfaction is finally over.

You hear Jimin stepping towards you, his hand coming to the rope securing you to the ceiling. He unties it, letting it plop to the ground, and you can't help but feel a little disappointed.

Then, he's got two fingers in the back of your chest harness, giving you a gently tug towards him.

"Don't worry, lovely," he says into your ear. "I'm not quite done with you yet."

You didn't realize that you were holding your breath until you hear yourself gasp when he releases you. It's only then that you realize your arms and shoulders have gone a little numb and tingly.

"I'm going to release your arms, and then I'll bind your legs, okay?" he says.

"Yes, Master," you breath out as the ropes start to go slack around you.

"Good girl. You're learning quick."

He quickly unties the ropes securing your arms and wrists, gently rubbing your skin as he does so to bring back some feeling. He leaves the chest harness in place, his hands coming to reposition you the way he wants: on your knees, slightly elevated on your toes so your legs aren't completely folded underneath you.

He quickly gets to work winding rope around your left side, securing your thigh to your lower leg near your ankle. Then, the right side bound just the same. Then he grasps your wrists in front of you, tying them together and lowering them to let your hands rest between your legs.

There is the urge to reach lower, to relieve some of the tension there, but you won't. Not during this session.

"How do you feel?" Jimin asks when he's done.

You're feeling floaty, so it takes a few seconds for you to gather your thoughts.

"Good, green," you almost whisper. "Like I'm..."

You trail off.

"Don't be shy, sweetheart. Go on and use your words," Jimin orders gently.

"Like I'm safe," you finally say, feeling silly saying it out loud.

"Is that a strange feeling for you?" Jimin asks, once again sounding genuinely interested.

"I guess so. I don't know but, as a woman, when you tell a man that you want them to dominate you, they usually think that means pulling your hair, tearing your clothes off, calling you a "bitch" or "slut" or something. But that's not really dominance. It can be enjoyable if you're into that kinda thing, but the men I've dated seem to think that that's all I'm looking for when I say I want kinky sex," you say, tongue feeling loose now that you're getting comfortable.

"And what is it that you want?" Jimin asks softly.

You think for a moment.

"It's not about pain or being powerless by itself. It's about someone else taking control of you out of care and love, treating your surrender as something almost sacred. It's about giving it to someone you trust and them respecting you back because of it. Does that makes sense?"

You hear a soft chuckle from Jimin.

"Yes, it makes perfect sense."

"I mean, I'm not saying "all men," but a whole fuckin' lot of them seem to think that bdsm is just violent sex. But it's not just that! It's a way for both people to feel release through control."

There's a moment of silence as you realize just how much you've been talking.

"Sorry, I'm rambling," you blurt out.

"I like hearing you talk," Jimin immediately replies, an almost challenging tone in his voice.

"Just like yous said, kink is a two-way street. Both parties have to be willing to not only listen to each other, but also put in the effort to communicate their thoughts and desires."

You wriggle a little, feeling the tight sensation of ropes around your wrists and legs, the cloth tied tight around your eyes.

"A real dominant will implement discipline and control through the lens of acceptance and love, not condemnation," Jimin goes on.

You hear him get to the floor, feel the heat of his body behind you.

"I'd like to guide you, _______. Instruct you, mold you, challenge you, support you, help you blossom into your full potential," he says, his mouth by your ear.

"I'd like to be the one to help you become more comfortable with expressing your needs. And it will become easier, trust me," he says with a little chuckle.

You can't help but laugh along, feeling nice and fuzzy in the head.

"May I rub your back?" Jimin asks, and you nod in response. He again chuckles softly, as if to say I'll forgive you this time for not using your words.

His hands come up to massage your shoulders, fingers skimming over the rope weaved around your torso.

At some point, he slowly unties the ropes around your thighs, rubbing the skin to bring back some feeling. He switches between massaging your back and untying your bonds, muttering soft reassurances in your ear.

And you didn't realize just how touch starved you felt until now. Every press of his fingertips makes you want to melt further into his embrace, the feel of his skin on yours is almost intoxicating.

When he finally moves to untie your blindfold, you've got moisture building up behind your eyelids.

Jimin's face softens at the sight of your red-rimmed eyes.

"Hey, it's okay, lovely," he mutters gently, his hand coming up to cup your cheek.

"I'm so proud of you," he assures you, tracing a thumb across your cheek. "You did so good for me."

That gives you the courage to finally look into his eyes.

"Really?" you practically squeak out, rubbing at your eyes.

"Of course!" Jimin insists. "You were open and honest, communicative and responsive. A very good first session, I'd say."

You still shrink in on yourself a bit.

"But I—" you start, something within you still wanting to protest.

But Jimin grabs your hand and yanks it towards him, placing your palm over his chest. You feel the thumping of his heartbeat.

"It was a good scene," he says, voice calming yet commanding. "You can see that I enjoyed it."

That makes a slight blush bloom across your cheeks.

"Cute," Jimin says, chuckling.

Now that the fuzziness is clearing up, you register more details. The black cap on Jimin's head as he adjusts it, the silver earrings dangling from his ears, the slight sheen of sweat on his skin.

"Come here," he mutters, bringing you close to his body. He cradles you against his torso, running his hands up and down your arms in comforting movements.

You don't realize that your eyelids are fluttering until he mutters, "You're quite endearing like this."

"What time is it?" you mumble, looking for a clock.

Jimin's laugh reverberates through your back.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. We've got time," he says.

But now that you're slipping from that special headspace, you don't want to overstay your welcome.

"My jacket..." you start, moving towards your bag. But Jimin shushes your protests and gently pushes you back down.

"Don't get up, I'll get it," he reassures. He returns and wraps your jacket around your shoulders a few moments later, then wrapping his arms around you too.

"Five more minutes, okay lovely? Just relax," he coaxes, tucking your head underneath his chin, and it's unclear if he's informing you of a fact or making an excuse for himself.

A few more blissful minutes later, and Jimin is shifting you into an upright position.

"There we go," he says, guiding you to stand.

"Are you alright?" he asks.

"Yes," you reply, just a little breathlessly. "Just very relaxed."

"I'm glad to hear it," Jimin replies with a smile. "Will you be alright getting home? We'd be happy to give you a ride."

"No, I'm fine, I'm good," you insist, and after scanning your face, Jimin relents.

"Um, do you take tips?" you ask hesitantly, reaching for your wallet.

But Jimin just smiles and waves you off.

"Trust me, you've done more than enough," he says.

"But, I do have some homework for you," he says.

When you nod in agreement, he leans forward to whisper it in your ear.

"Have a good rest of your day, ______," Jimin says, leading you out the door.

"Thanks, you too," you reply, feeling light and relieved from the session.

You don't notice it, but Jimin watches you get into your car and drive off until you're out of sight.

a/n: thanks so much for reading!! i'd love to hear any of your thoughts :) let me know if you' like to see me expand on this au!

#jimin x reader #jimin x you #jimin fanfic #jimin angst #jimin fluff #dom jimin #sub reader #jimin x female reader #bts fanfiction

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masonmontz · 4 months ago

Text

notes: hellooo everyone :) so, recently i haven't been very inspired to write but i have a lot of unfinished things. i decided to post this story (which is not ready yet) in two parts and maybe with that i can get some inspiration to finish it

REMEMBER: english is not my first language

angst word count: 4,5k

PART 2 • BONUS

✦‎۟ ࣭ ⊹

2 years ago

“That was really good.” Mason said, laying down beside you, panting and sweaty. He still seemed a little drunk, and you were a little dizzy too, but you were panting just as much as he was.

“I know.” You spoke softly, closing your eyes and feeling sleepy. You and Mason had been in his hotel room for over three hours, you had met at a nightclub, you were with your friends and Mason was with some of his friends, friends you had never seen before. He came to you to talk, bought you drinks and before you knew it, you were kissing him in the hotel hallways, not caring if anyone would see you.

Mason came closer and pulled you against him, and you didn't care that you barely knew him, you were too tired to care, so when Mason caressed you, you slowly fell asleep without even realizing it.

You woke up scared and not knowing where you were, but when you heard breathing next to you, you remembered that you had met Mason and accepted his invitation for you to go to the hotel where he was staying. He was sleeping and you picked up your phone to check the time, and when you realized that if you didn't leave now you would be late for work, you found a notepad on the bedroom table and wrote down your number and name, hoping that Mason would contact you.

You put on your clothes and left, taking one last look at Mason before closing the door. You just didn't realize that when you closed the door, the wind made the paper fly away, where Mason would never find it.

⊹

Mason heard the alarm clock and woke up, putting his arm on the side of the bed, but only felt emptiness. He opened his eyes and saw that you were already gone, so he looked around the room to see if you had left anything, but he found nothing. Not even a phone number or your full name.

He had no idea how to get in touch with you, but now he needed to pack his things and go home, since Chelsea's party was at the hotel and the players got rooms and Mason and the lads had fun somewhere else that night.

Mason would really like to meet you again, but he was upset that you left after you had sex with him like it was nothing. It had been a while since Mason had met such a nice girl.

✦‎۟ ࣭ ⊹

“I'm dating someone.” Candice said when you took a sip of coffee, and you almost spat out what was in your mouth in shock.

“What? Since when?”

“I told you I was meeting someone, and I'm so in love with him, I think I found my person.” She said with sparkling eyes, and you smiled at her, knowing that Candice is a romantic and really wanted to find someone to share her life with. “His name is Woody, he is so kind and funny.”

“Woody? Is he a character from Toy Story?” You spoke and laughed, but soon stopped laughing when Candice looked at you seriously. “Sorry, I couldn't help it.”

“Yes, Chandler Bing, I know.” She ate some of the pie she had ordered, you were at the mall for an afternoon coffee after some shopping. You were on break from the bookstore where you worked and managed to enjoy it with your friend who you hadn't seen in a few days. “I want you to meet him. And his name is Nathan”

“I would love to, I'm happy for you.” You smiled and reached out your hand to hers, squeezing it lightly.

“He has some friends, I think I could introduce some of them to you.” You rolled your eyes, knowing there was nothing you could do to stop Candice from introducing you to someone. Candice likes to date, and she likes to see everyone in love.

“What's his friend's name? Buzz?” You asked, holding back a laugh, but you could tell Candice wanted to laugh too.

“Stop making jokes about this, it's not funny.” She scolded you. “Whatever, I met two of his friends and they're great, I think you'll get along with them too. Woody invited me to a party next week, so you're going with me and you'll meet him.”

“Do I have the option to say no?”

“No.”

✦‎۟ ࣭ ⊹

“First, can you tell me exactly what we're doing here?” You asked Candice as she took you to a place you hadn't been to in years ‘cause it was dirty, disorganized, and smelled bad. “This neighborhood smells like rotten food.”

You brought your hand to your nose, not wanting to smell the street.

“Please stop complaining for a minute.” Candice pulled you by the hand and made you take your hand off your nose. “We're going to a cool place, it's new and Woody and his friends love it.”

“They are men, they don't care about the dirt on the street, of course they like it.” You rolled your eyes, trying to balance yourself in your high heels as you walked alongside Candice, who was walking down the street as if she frequented that neighborhood every day. “Why didn't your boyfriend pick us up?”

“Oh, may I remind you that you said we should take an Uber?” You stayed quiet, knowing she was right and you were the one who didn't accept the ride. “We arrived.”

“How the fuck did they find this place?” Candice took a key out of her purse and opened the door, leaving you surprised that the door was locked. “Are you trying to kill me? I have to work early tomorrow, you know.”

“Shut up, Y/N.” Candice held the door for you and you could hear laughter and music, but it didn't sound like a party. “They are up there.”

“I feel like I'm not wearing the right clothes.” You spoke as you looked at the short skirt you were wearing and the heels, and Candice was wearing pants and heeled boots.

“You look beautiful, you need to show those tanned legs to the guys.” She said as you walked up the stairs. The sound got louder, and when you got there, you saw about fifteen people, some standing, some sitting on the couch, and… Well, the guy who never called you back.

You froze when you saw him leaning against a wall talking to a guy who looked like Candice's boyfriend and two other men, they were laughing about something the taller one was saying.

Candice looked around and said hi to a few people, pulling you with her to where Woody was. One of the guys nodded at you and her boyfriend turned around, as did Mason, who widened his eyes when he saw you, not caring about your friend in front of him.

Of course, he didn't expect to see the girl he just fucked and pretended didn't exist.

Asshole.

You were silent as Woody approached Candice and kissed her, hugging her and smiling, and you noticed that she melted like butter when he touched her.

“Hi, princess.” You heard him say and smiled, then Candice turned to you to introduce you to Woody.

“Babe, this is Y/N, my best friend.” Candice said and Woody looked at you, so you smiled at him and gave him a little hug.

“The famous one. I’m Woody, nice to meet you, Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you too, I heard a lot about you.” You were aware that the three men behind Woody were looking at you, but you tried to ignore it.

“Candice already knows the guys, but I'll introduce you to them.” Woody didn't let go of Candice's hand, but he still pointed to the three men with him. “They are my best friends. This is Declan.”

You greeted him, who was the tallest, with a small hug as well. Then Ben and finally Mason. But you didn't hug him, who was also looking at you seriously, and just said a little hi to him. If you could, you would throw something at his head just for being an idiot.

“Hi.” You spoke and faked a smile, which Candice would definitely notice, because she knows you better than you know yourself. “Nice to meet you, Mason.”

You emphasized his name, and he barely smiled in your direction before faking a smile.

“Nice to meet you too, Y/N.” The tension was visible and Candice, Woody, Declan and Ben were staring at the two of you without saying anything, so you turned and smiled at your friend.

Candice shrugged and Woody led the two of you to the small bar, opening the fridge and grabbing a beer for each of you. Candice pulled you to the side and grabbed your arm, making you stop in front of her.

“What was that? Why did you talk to Mason like that?”

“Oh, you know that jerk who never called me back and was the best sex I ever had? Well, let me introduce you, that man was Mason.”

“What? No way.” Her mouth was open. “But he is so nice, he would never do that. He is very kind.”

“Candice, I'm your friend, stop defending him.” You frowned when Candice complimented him.

“How did you not know who he was? He’s famous.”

“What?”

“He's a football player, and so is Declan and Ben. Mason plays for Chelsea FC.”

“I know as much about football as I know about chemistry, nothing.” You rolled your eyes, now it was explained why he never called you. “I was so stupid, oh my God. I really thought he would call me, we had sex like four times in one night.”

“Wow, I don’t wanna hear the details, please.”

“Whatever, he is an asshole, and I don’t want to talk to him.”

“Who’s an asshole?” Woody approached, and you got embarrassed ‘cause you were talking about his stupid friend.

“Just a guy I know from work.” You smiled at him.

“We're going to play beer pong, wanna join?”

“Sure.”

In fact, they were funny. There were three other girls present and they were also funny and joined in the game with you. You and Mason hadn't exchanged a word, and you were doing a pretty good job of pretending he wasn't there.

It had been more than ten months since you met, and to tell the truth, what irritated you about him not calling you was that he spent that night saying that you two would get along really well, that he wanted to see you again, and would take you out to dinner, but he ignored you as if you were nothing.

You weren't in love with him, but just a warning from him saying he wasn't interested would have been great.

When you got tired of the game, you walked back to the fridge and grabbed another beer, just to have something to hold in your hand. It was late and you need to go home soon, or you wouldn't be able to wake up for work tomorrow.

And unfortunately, Mason came close.

He didn't say anything, but he gave you a few looks that irritated you.

“What?” You asked.

“I’m sorry?” He asked, ironically.

“Why are you looking at me like that? Didn't you get tired of being an idiot once?”

“What? Was I an idiot? Can you remind me why, exactly?”

“Don't play dumb.”

“Why are you treating me like that?”

“The only thing I know is that you acted like a jerk, I'm sorry I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Fine by me, I don't need someone being rude to me for nothing.” Mason spoke and left, so you walked up to Candice and told her you were leaving.

✦‎۟ ࣭ ⊹

“So, do you know Y/N?” Declan asked Mason when they were leaving, and Mason locked the door behind him. It was a kind of shed that they decided to rent to create a space for games and fun, so they tried to meet there most of the time, away from people and cameras. It was a safe place for their circle of friends.

“Yes, remember that woman I told you I met at that party in Chelsea? She disappeared like a speck of dust, didn't leave a number, a name, nothing. And she was so fucking rude to me like I had done something wrong.”

“And can you understand women, bro? ‘Cause I can't.” Declan laughed. “Wait, was she the woman you had sex with “I don't know how many times” in one night?”

“Yes.”

“Well, she’s beautiful and I can understand why you got so upset because she didn't leave her number.” Mason shrugged, remembering how stupid you were to him. “You can ask Candice for her number.”

“Only if I lost my mind, Dec. That woman is crazy and I don't want anything to do with her.”

“Even though it was the best sex you've ever had?”

“Shut up.”

✦‎۟ ࣭ ⊹

Time passed and Candice and Woody's relationship became more and more serious, and it was great for them, but you had to see Mason more than you would have liked. Weekly meetings became common in their shed and you became friends with all of them, you loved to play and laugh and especially, you loved the days when Mason couldn't go because of the matches, so you didn't have to look at that beautiful and stupid face.

Whenever you were in the same place, you exchanged indirect messages and argued over silly reasons, making everyone tired of your fights, because you were both already adults and not two teenagers.

But every time you weren't arguing, you remembered the night you spent with Mason. It was so hot, so good, that you get goosebumps when you remember it. No man had ever managed to leave you the way he had, and that left you frustrated.

“Talk to him, you can work this out.”

“Talk to her, Mason, maybe she doesn't remember that she didn't leave her number.”

“He's cool, you guys can get along if you try.”

“She's your type Mason, you guys would make a great couple.”

And the answer is always no.

You pulled your coat tighter as you walked down the freezing street towards the shed, wanting to get there quickly to warm up. Candice said that she and Woody would be arriving later because they were going to the market to buy some things, so you decided to take an Uber there.

You didn't have the key, so you pressed the doorbell and waited for one of them to answer. It was almost December and very cold, and even with layers of clothing, you were still freezing.

The door opened and you rolled your eyes when Mason opened it. Of course.

“Hey.” You spoke and walked past him, quickly going up the stairs, but realizing that there was still no one there. “Where’s everybody?”

“Let me see… not here.” He spoke and pulled out his pants pocket to pretend he was looking for someone. “Let me look in the fridge.”

“Asshole.” You spoke and sat on the comfortable couch, and Mason sat on another couch in front of you, not paying attention to you. He was messing with his cell phone and that made you angry.

“Well, I see you have a phone.” You spoke and Mason looked at you bored.

“Yes, it is a new item in the 21st century.” He spoke mockingly.

“You must call several women, how do you feel about that?” You teased him, and it was fun because Mason always got mad at you.

“Well, I didn't call you.”

You deserved it. But this just showed that Mason is a jerk and the worst kind, the typical football player.

“How can you look in the mirror and not hate yourself?” You spoke softly, but Mason heard and that was the spark needed to explode.

“What’s wrong with you, Y/N? Don't you get tired of being a bitch?” Mason exploded and stood up, throwing his phone on the couch and glaring at you. “Grow up, you're not fifteen anymore.”

“Who do you think you are to tell me to grow up?” You yelled at Mason and walked up to him, facing him face to face. “You fuck a different women every day, aren't you ashamed of it? Of making them look like idiots?”

“You don't know anything about my life, you don't know anything about what I do and who I sleep with.” Mason put his hands on his face, nervous. You were just as angry as he was, ‘cause you couldn't deal with everything you felt for him. Anger, resentment, boredom.

“Good thing, because you think you're the center of the world and you think you have the right to treat others as if they were nothing.” Angrily, you turned away, but Mason grabbed your wrist, making you turn to him once more before he let go of you.

“Stop talking shit, you're crazy, Y/N.” Mason spoke and glared at you, and you were so angry that you just wanted to leave and leave him behind. You didn't say anything as you continued to stare at him, you were panting from the screams and... when you realized it you and Mason were kissing.

You don't know who took the first step, but everything happened so fast that you didn't understand anything anymore. You brought your hands to Mason's neck, pulling him against you, and Mason pulled you by the waist, pressing you against his body as his tongue slid across yours.

The kiss reminded you of the night you met, and you remembered how much you had enjoyed his kisses. You didn't walk away, and neither did Mason. You were so desperate, there were months of fights, indirect messages, tension, everything exploded in a single kiss.

You pushed Mason by the chest and he fell onto the couch, looking at you scared, but you climbed on top of him and fitted your hips against his, pulling him in for another kiss. It was just a kiss, what's wrong with that?

Mason sighed and reached behind his back, opening your coat and taking it off. You were still wearing your jeans and high-heeled boots, the tight, warm white blouse left Mason free to see your curves. Mason used to get annoyed that you were so pretty and so, so cheeky with him.

He was wearing a sweater, and Mason had his hair in a buzzcut so you hated that he was so attractive when he was such a jerk.

Mason brought a hand to your thigh and squeezed, and you sighed when you felt his bulge against you, and all the cold you were feeling disappeared. You put your hands under Mason's sweater and felt his warm abdomen, then you ran your nails down hard and felt Mason twitch.

“Don’t do that.” He spoke between the kiss, and you did it again, on purpose, and pushed his shirt up.

“You don’t tell me what to do.” You bit Mason's lip and grinded against his hips, sighing. It was crazy to want Mason so much, he drove you crazy and made you act like a sullen child. In fact, you didn't know you wanted him so much until now.

You heard a laugh and let go of Mason, then realized the others must have arrived. He looked at you in panic and you didn't know what to do, but you quickly got off Mason and ran to the small kitchen, trying to fix your face and hair. Mason got up quickly and went to the bathroom, locking the door behind him.

As you sat down in a chair, Candice appeared with Woody behind her, then Reece, Ben, Lauren, Declan and Lily. You smiled at them and took a sip of water, hoping no one would notice anything.

“Hey, pretty girl.” Candice waved and walked over to you, hugging you. “How did you get in?”

“What? Uh, Mason is here.” You walked over to the fridge, grabbing some beers for them and trying to divert their attention away from you, but when you turned around, everyone was staring at you strangely. “What?”

“Did you kill him or something like that?” Woody asked, looking really worried.

“He's in the bathroom, idiot.” You rolled your eyes, and at the same moment the bathroom door opened and Mason came out smiling at everyone, who almost sighed in relief when they saw that you two didn't kill each other.

“Thank God.” Declan placed his hand on his chest and closed his eyes, and you shook your head at his reaction. “For a moment I thought my son would be left without a godfather.”

“What?” Mason asked blankly, but Declan shrugged.

Ben put the pizzas on the table and soon you were all eating, and for the first time you felt Mason's presence, unlike the other times when you ignored him.

Oh my God, you kissed Mason.

And because you wanted to.

And if no one else came, you would probably have fucked him.

You choked on a piece of pizza because of your own thoughts, you started coughing and before you knew it, Declan was patting your back for you to breathe again. When you managed to breathe, you glared at him.

“I’m fine. I’m fine.”

If they thought it was strange that you and Mason weren't fighting, no one said anything. After eating, you went to play some games as usual and chat. You got up to get water once more, and when you were coming back you passed behind the couch where Mason and Ben were sitting talking, but you weren't surprised to see Mason showing Ben a picture of a woman.

Once an asshole, always an asshole.

And you kissed him, you almost wanted to scream in anger at yourself.

“Let's play truth or dare?” Woody asked for everyone and Candice seemed the most excited. It was her favorite game. “C’mon c’mon.”

You sat in a circle on the carpet, Candice spun the bottle for the first time. Lauren asked Ben who the last woman he had sex with was (Someone called Rita). Lily asked Candice how many guys she's slept with (Woody wasn't happy with the question - the answer is eight). Mason asked Lily what's the weirdest place she's ever had sex (in the college bathroom).

“Y/N… Let me see…” Declan is thinking too much, to be honest. “Have you ever had sex with anyone from this group?”

You could jump on his neck and strangle him, but you'd go to jail and Jude would be left fatherless. He gave a fake smile, and then you realized he knew about you and Mason. Of course, Mason is his best friend.

“I would like to say no, but yes.” Declan smiled, Candice's eyes widened and the others realized that you and Mason had already had sex, because he was looking at you with a not so happy face.

You spun the bottle, and of course things didn't end there. It was Mason's turn to ask you a question. He gave you a mocking smile and thought before asking.

“Y/N… Why did you tell everyone that you didn't want to have sex with me when you screamed my name all night?”

It wasn't possible. He can't be that much of a jerk.

Tears came to your eyes, but not of sadness, but of anger.

“Wow Mason, why didn't I think of this before? Let me see… I only had sex with you because I didn't know you, but if I had known you I would never have done anything, ‘cause you are a trash person.”

You got up and grabbed your coat and cell phone, not paying attention to them, who were calling you to come back.

“Go, run away like you did the first time.” Mason snapped. “It's the only thing you know how to do well besides lying.” Mason walked past you and quickly down the stairs, leaving you standing there watching him go.

You followed him down the stairs.

“How can you be so stupid and not realize it? Am I lying? You're the one who pretended you never had sex with me.” You yelled, and Mason opened the door walking to the sidewalk, but you followed after him as he walked towards his car. “Don't be a coward, own up to what you did.”

Mason stopped walking and turned his back to you, and you could tell he was trying to control his breathing.

“I don't have the strength for this anymore, Y/N. Leave me alone.” He spoke, without turning around.

“Don’t. Be. A. Coward.”

Mason turned around, and his face was pure hatred.

“What do you want from me?” He yelled, and you backed away. Mason raised his hands, trying to understand why you were there. “You know how much I liked you when we first met and you never gave me a chance, now you think you have the right to call me a liar and say you never wanted to sleep with me and embarrass me in front of my friends? What the fuck is your problem?”

“You're my problem, Mason.” You yelled at him, feeling anger throughout your body. You pointed your finger at him. “You promised me a thousand things and never called me, you treated me as if I were any of the women you spent a night with, you deceived me and still laughed at me after that.”

“How am I supposed to call someone who never left a number or a full name?” He shouted, and you saw that some people passing by heard everything you were saying. “You went away and left me alone, don't treat me like the culprit since it was your choice.”

Mason turned his back and walked to his car, but you stood there, just watching him drive away.

“What?” Why couldn't you understand each other? Why did he keep lying? “I left my number and name on a piece of paper on the desk, stop lying to me for a minute, Mason.”

“You think I didn't want to call? I thought about it for weeks, months, until I finally accepted that you didn't leave your number because you didn't want to. I'm not a genius, I had no way of finding you.”

“But I did.” You insisted with him, and Mason huffed, putting his hand to his face, taking a deep breath. “I waited for your call for days, and you never called.”

“It doesn't matter now, Y/N. I don't want to have anything to do with you anymore after all the hell you put me through this year.”

“Mason…” You called out to him, but Mason got in the car and drove off, leaving you alone on the sidewalk, just you and your guilt.

✦‎۟ ࣭ ⊹

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