#gonna have steel calves and ass by the end of this trip

[actuallysara]

I knew Lisbon would be physically challenging but this is a bit extreme

[blurredcolour]

Nom De Plume | Part Five

Nom De Plume Masterlist

Summary: The trip to Grasse is a lot more physically taxing than expected.

Pairing: Austin Butler x Female Reader

Warnings: Language, Allusions to Alcohol Consumption, Unsafe Driving, Public Play, Utter Filth, Mature/Explicit Themes [fingering, oral – m receiving, f receiving, multiple orgasms, penetration, unprotected sex, dream sex] – 18+ Only

Author’s Note: We made it to the end! Please note that alternate titles for this part include: Austin and cricket fuck like bunnies across France, and Austin and cricket’s fuckathon. You have been warned (promised?). Special thanks to @avengen/@elvisabutler for helping me work through plot points and names for this entire series.

Word Count: 5245

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Your re-entry into consciousness was slow and hazy. Punctuated by the sound of the river coursing by beneath the still-open window, the weak early-morning light, the heat of Austin’s skin pressed against your back, the steel-velvet of his cock sliding between the soft skin of your thighs and along your slick folds. All at once your neurons fired, processing the aching pleasure of it, filling you with a ravenous need to have him inside you.

You moaned into your pillow as you pressed your ass back into his hips. Lifting the knee on your upper leg, you set your foot onto the mattress behind his calves. You stretched your hand down to cup his cock, feeling it slide along your palm and fingertips, before adding gentle pressure to push the tip into your entrance. You cried out hoarsely as the sleepy undulation of his hips eased his length into you fully, aided by the abundant slick that had accumulated between your thighs.

His arms tensed around you tightly, inhaling sharply, hands coming to cup your breasts as his pelvis rocked tightly against yours.

“Fuck…cricket…” His voice was gravelly with sleep as he panted into the crook of your shoulder, pulling his hips back only to surge forward, back into your enticing warmth.

“…please…” You whimpered, eyes barely open, one hand gripping his over your breast as the other twisted violently into the pillow.

He grunted against your skin before cupping your shoulder with his teeth and beginning to thrust in earnest. Your eyes rolled back in your head as you cried out eagerly, unable to control the flow of saliva from your gaping mouth, the pillow growing damper by the moment. The heel of your foot dug into the mattress behind his legs, eyes clenched shut as you were so remarkably close.

Your hand sunk lower once more, the heel of your palm pressing against your clitoris in clumsy yet effective stimulation as the index and forefingers stretched down to frame your entrance, adding an extra layer of friction against the sides of his cock. You whimpered as you felt his teeth dig a little deeper into your skin, his tongue moving in an unintelligible curse as his hips snapped up into yours desperately.

“...yes….” You hissed wantonly before clenching around him greedily as your orgasm seized your drowsy frame. You wailed weakly into the bedding. Nothing but incoherent, prolonged vowels.

You felt Austin shudder against your back as you tried to slow your racing breaths. His hips still thrusted against you, his whimpers sounding as he chased his own release. Your hand reached back over your shoulder to curl into his hair, tugging at the silky strands.

“Gonna cum, Austin?” You breathed huskily. Forming words was difficult but you wanted him to find release same as you. “Can you fill me up?”

He squeezed your breasts almost painfully as his hips crashed into yours ruthlessly.

“Ahn!” You shuddered and clenched around him reflexively before doing it again with more force and purpose.

His strangled cry against your skin was all the warning you had before he slammed deep inside you, rutting against you tightly as his release finally found him. You smiled fondly, caressing his hair and cheek as well as you could at this angle. His hips gradually stilled, and he began to press soothing kisses to the indentations of his teeth marks on your skin.

“Mmmorning, cricket” He sighed warmly against your flesh, his grip on your breasts relaxing.

“Good morning…” You replied warmly, shuddering as you felt him slip out of you before he guided you to turn in his arms so he could give you a warm kiss.

“I’m starving…” He mumbled against your lips.

You giggled brightly and nodded firmly.

“Me too…” You raised your head, and your eyes found a clock. It was just after six. “Breakfast is served until eight, we have time to…shower….” You smirked, feeling slightly filthy but also so very satisfied. “And head down?”

He nodded firmly and the lure of food proved enough to keep the two of you on task. Austin had even helped choose your outfit, a sundress and cardigan you had been saving for warmer weather. It was definitely here now.

Neither of you had eaten since those random roadside sandwiches over twelve hours ago. The staff and other guests shared a few knowing looks, but you and Austin were too busy cleaning your plates. Back on the road by nine, Austin volunteered to take the first shift behind the wheel. The scenery was, of course, stunning, but…but you found that you could not stop studying Austin’s profile.

The angle of his jaw, the cut of his cheek bone, the loose golden curls on his head, the tiny curl just in front of his ear, the cherry pink of his pillowy lips. Your fingers traced along your bottom lip absentmindedly, tongue following shortly after.

“Keep looking at me like that, cricket, and we’re pulling into next rest stop.” He growled teasingly and you laughed sheepishly before turning your body to face out the windshield fully, focusing on the road stretching before the car.

It was when he lay the long fingers of his right had on the inside of your thigh, gradually sliding higher, that you came to realize exactly why he had chosen your outfit that morning. You exhaled shakily and sunk your teeth into your lower lip, locking your eyes onto the blur of the fields covered in early growth. You felt somewhat petulant. He tells you not to look and then…You took a gulp of air and pressed your head back into the headrest firmly as his broad palm fully cupped between your thighs, the heat of his skin soaking through your underwear.

Initially, he simply taunted you with just a little pressure and subtle rubbing through the thin fabric before pushing it aside, the seam catching slightly on your folds, spreading them just enough to tease your clitoris. You parted your legs wantonly, shifting your hips forward in the seat to give him better access.

“Oh cricket…” He sighed, the leather of the wheel creaking in his ruthless grip as he kept his eyes focused on the roadway before him.

His right hand was much busier, fingertips circling your entrance, collecting your slick before they drifted higher to draw circles of ever-decreasing circumference. You own hand scrabbled for purchase on the handle of the door, whimpering as your eyes drifted shut. At last, after what felt much longer than it actually took, the lightly calloused tips of his fingers brushed against your bundle of nerves, drawing a ragged moan from you. You could hear his breaths coming thicker, faster as his fingers sped up and slowed down and changed direction, teasing you mercilessly.

As they shifted to sink into your entrance, the fingers of your left hand sunk into his right thigh, hips rocking needily.

“Austin!” You cried out softly, the erotic sounds of his fingers plunging in and out of your warmth resounding inside the vehicle.

“Jesus Fucking Christ you’re drenched, cricket.” He growled. “It’s been two hours and you need me this bad?” The words were teasing but his tone was pure awe.

“Uh huh!” Was all you managed to vocalize in response, and he hissed your name hungrily, fingers moving and curling faster.

“C’mon cricket, soak the fucking seat for me.” He coaxed, licking his lips raw.

“Oh fuck.” You moaned at his fingers, his words…arching sharply forward as you did exactly as requested; clenching around his fingers so tightly he could hardly pull them from you.

“Incredible…” He purred, liftin his fingers to suck them greedily as he pulled onto the offramp at the next roadside stop.

You slumped against the seat, panting in stunned silence as he found a parking spot. He helped you re-arrange your underwear, taking you inside the rest stop to clean up in the bathroom. You grabbed a caffeinated beverage and something sugary, devouring it in only a few bites before you felt somewhat human again. You met him back at the car, moving to get into the driver’s seat.

“My turn.” You meant to smile but there was definitely the curve of a smirk involved.

Pulling back out onto the toll road, you glanced over at him as you sipped your drink, noticing the way he was shifting on the seat you had recently vacated. Constantly tugging at the fly of his pants, readjusting the bulge you could very clearly see, even with quick, safe glances from the road. You reached down and gripped his wrist, plucking his hand from his crotch and lifting it to rub his thumb along your lower lip before pulling it into your mouth to apply gentle, sucking pressure.

“Oh god…” He breathed, gnawing on his lips as his fingertips stroked along your cheek.

You licked your tongue along his skin, tracing the edges of his nail, the ridges of his knuckle. You hollowed your cheeks around his digit…doing everything you longed to do to his cock…especially when he moaned so prettily. Especially when he grasped at the same handhold on the door as you, writhing against the same seat you had.

Releasing his wrist, all the while focusing on the licence plate of the car in front of you and the traffic around you, you reached down to squeeze at the needy bulge between his legs. The groan he rewarded you with was pure sin and you indulged yourself in a glance at the way his jaw hung open and his eyebrows knitted into a crease above his nose. A glance that was far longer than safe.

Your car beeped at you aggressively as you flirted a little too closely to the edge of your lane and you snapped your attention back to the road. You needed to find somewhere to pull off….to finish repaying the favour. You glanced at the surrounding countryside and saw plenty of quiet, tree-covered roads. Still sucking on Austin’s thumb, you returned your other hand to the steering wheel and navigated onto the next exit, following a maze of country lanes until you found somewhere to pull off under the shade of trees.

You pulled his thumb from your mouth and looked to his heaving chest.

“Stay there.” You murmured before stepped out of the car, walking over to open his door.

You leaned down to kiss him fiercely as your hand reached between his legs to find the handle beneath his seat that allowed you to push him into the backseat. You guided his long, left leg to drape over the console before climbing in to kneel in the footwell in front of his seat.

“Close the door” You did not even realize how much control you were seizing here, nor how quickly and eagerly he was complying.

Next, you pulled the lever that had his seat reclining backward, putting you both out of sight in case of any passing motorists before you opened the fly of his jeans. Tugging them down just enough to free his cock, you found no underwear in the way. You smirked up at him before taking his cock in hand and delivering an eager, broad-striped lick up the length of it. Fuck, the noises he was making were enough for you to forget that you could easily be arrested for what you were doing.

Watching his face – contorted with pleasure, you wrapped your lips around the tip of his length, savouring the taste of him and the way his breath shuddered through his throat. He watched you with hooded, dark eyes. His pupils were long blown, having devoured the blue of his irises in his arousal. His hands reached down to push and hold back your hair, ensuring he had a clear view of your face…. your mouth.

Sinking your head lower, you allowed your saliva to slip past your lips, coating the length of him. You wrapped a hand around the base of his cock to encircle what you could not manage in your mouth before you began to work your head up and down along him.

“Fuck…. cricket…” His words were sharp, choked out as punctations between his gasping breaths as you felt his thighs clench in restraint, fighting the urge to simply thrust.

You shifted a little in the small space beneath him, surprised at how arousing it was to please the long, lanky man above you. Hollowing your cheeks, increasing the pressure around him, you picked up your pace. The salty tang of his precum sparked on your tongue as his grip tightened on your hair.

“Just like that…yes…” He gritted out between ruthlessly clenched teeth.

You slid lower, as low as you could, nuzzling the crease of his hip as you prepared to catch his release. Inhaling deeply, you sucked tighter on his cock, fist moving rapidly at the base until he lost control and thrust forward into the back of your throat. He came with an anguished shout, and you fought the spasm that would have you coughing, forcing yourself to swallow his release.

Once the tension melted from his body, you sat back on your heels, coughing roughly now that there was no threat of making a mess. You took a deep sip of your drink as he leaned forward, pressing tender kisses along your forehead, mumbling apologies.

“It’s ok” Your voice was gravelly, but you smiled and tilted your head to catch his lips in a soft kiss. “Just surprised me…”

He pressed his lips against yours once more, caressing your throat with his elegant fingers. The sound of a car driving nearer made you tense and pull back quickly. You gently tucked him back into his pants before opening the car door and essentially falling out into the ditch. Thankfully, it had not rained in a while and you came out unscathed as the car drove passed, unconcerned. Austin was now sitting up in his seat fully, watching you with wide eyes.

“I’m ok!” You could not help but laugh and he joined in warmly.

Retaking the driver’s seat, you looked at the map app on your phone and took off once you had your bearings. Just an hour-and-a-half to Valence, your target for the day. That would leave only four hours of driving for tomorrow. You were barely back on the toll road before you heard the deep, contented sighs of sleep from the passenger’s seat. Smirking, and massaging your jaw a little, you made the rest of the drive in silence, fighting the weight of your eyelids as his soft breaths made sleep so very tempting.

You were running out of patience as you pulled onto the exit ramp for Valence, and with Austin still very much asleep and unable to search for hotels, you opted for the first one you saw. It was not a run-down cheap motel by any means, but it also was not an adorable French B&B. You parked in the expansive parking lot outside the large, mid-century modern, four-story building and smothered a yawn with the back of your hand. At least you had made it here safely.

Sensing the movement had stopped, Austin stirred in the seat beside you and looked at you blearily.

“Valence?” He asked, pulling himself up fully.

You nodded and slid out of the car, collecting your luggage as he followed suit. You headed inside together, asking for one room with one bed, and rode up in the elevator quietly. Kicking off your shoes, you set your luggage by the closet and crawled onto the bed. You were vaguely aware of Austin lifting you and tucking you in properly, pressing a kiss to your forehead before you fell asleep fully.

The smell of something rich and garlicky had your eyes fluttering open a few hours later, made your stomach growl. You emerged from the cocoon of blankets to see Austin unpacking dinner onto the small table beneath the window to your right.

“That smells amazing…” You breathed, extracting yourself from the warmth of the bed and moving to help him before you sat down to yet another fantastic meal. “France has utterly ruined me… it will be so disappointing to go home to the normal food…”

He chuckled warmly and fed you another bite from his entrée, having ordered two different meals so you could share more flavours. Eating thoughtfully, you found yourself looking around the room, taking in the high end, yet generic furnishings. Despite your fatigue and the multiple orgasms he had blessed you with that day, you found your mind drifting to the things the two of you could get up to in this room.

“What do you see, cricket…?” He leaned in, murmuring in your ear, making you shudder. You swallowed your bite of food before you spoke.

“Well…there’s an actor, and a writer…” You grinned a little and looked at him somewhat shy to be sharing what was, essentially, mental pornography. “And I’m not sure if he should take her against the door or in the shower…” You bit your lip as his jaw dropped.

“So sometimes…it’s just pure filth then…” He murmured, voice thick.

“More often than you might think…” You replied with a laugh of self deprecation.

It did not take him long to start fucking you against the door before carrying you, still impaled on his cock, into the shower to finish the job. You found your cheek pressed against the cool tile of the wall, hands pinned above your head in his grip, your knee hooked over the wrist of his other hand as he slammed into you from behind under the warm spray. After gently cleaning the pair of you up, Austin nestled back into bed with you, running his fingertips along the soft skin of your arm.

“You know, cricket…” He murmured against your temple.

“mmm?” You replied, too lazy to form proper consonants and vowels.

“You called yourself a writer just then…” He pressed his lips to your skin, and you sighed fondly.

“Suppose I did…” You replied thoughtfully.

“… referred to me by my profession and yourself by your…” He trailed off, trying to coax you to understand.

“Oh.” Your eyes widened slowly. “Oh, I don’t know, what…what if I just got the one big idea and that’s it? That’s all I get?” You did not bother to mask the terror linked to that statement as you looked up to him. A terror that had been stalking you since the book was published. “What if I tried to be a writer and it all went to shit…” You finished in a whisper, tears blurring the sweet image of his face painted with concern.

His soft lips pressed against your eyelids, kissing the tears away.

“One possible outcome. One of thousands…you won’t know unless you try…” He pulled you close, stroking his hand along your back soothingly. “I think you’d be excellent at screen writing…and then if you get another great big idea…”

You nodded thoughtfully against the skin of his chest.

“I’ll…I’ll think on it…” You murmured softly, swallowed back the acrid taste of fear at the very thought of taking such a leap as to pin your livelihood on writing.

“Don’t forget to breathe while you do…” He bent his head to kiss your forehead. “I’m sorry…It was not meant to terrify you, cricket. I won’t bring it up again, ok? You can…if you ever feel ready….and if that is never, that is completely fine.” His eyes sought yours and he smiled warmly when you finally had the courage to meet them.

The warmth that erupted beneath your breastbone had fresh tears flooding your vision as you leaned forward to kiss him soundly. Not quite ready to name that warmth. But increasingly certain what it was.

The next morning, you two ate breakfast in bed, lazing in one another’s arms until checkout forced you to dress and leave. There was less of a ravenous urgency about the pair of you today. More of a comfortable need, holding hands during the drive through the mountains, but not risking anything more than that. You were so close, arriving at last to fields of lavender, trees of mimosa blossoms, bushes of roses. It was fragrant, gorgeous, and better than any description in any book. You found a safe place to pull over, to take it all in, capture some of it with your cameras.

The eight days you spent in Grasse were truly idyllic. Having two beds in the room proved convenient, using one until it was a bit too used until switching to the other. You forced yourselves to leave the room at least once a day, to explore the town, enjoy the pool, visit the olive oil mill in the basement of the inn. To let housekeeping clean up the mess you continually made.

It was a challenge to stay fed and hydrated, there was always something more enticing to do. But rest, water, and food were primal needs that would force one to notice them eventually. It was upsetting to watch the days tick by, knowing that separation and some kind of ‘return to normal’ loomed at the end of it all. Austin had another project, filming in Morocco, which he seemed both excited to embark upon and sad that it meant separation from you. And you? You had a job waiting for you at the end of your Leave of Absence. A job that you were not nearly as certain about as you had been when you left for England over three months ago.

The drive to the airport in Nice was quiet, the sun not even deigning to show its face from behind the clouds as it rained for the first time since you left Normandy. Austin’s flight was earlier than yours, so you were behind the wheel, pulling up to the Departures floor. He looked at you softly as he lifted your clasped hands, pressing his lips to the back of yours.

“I’ll see you in two months cricket, as soon as we wrap in Morocco, I’m coming to invade your home.”  He grinned playfully, even as his eyes reflected sadness at your imminent separation.

“Looking forward to it, Austin.” Your voice was thin, but you did your best not to sound as pathetic as you felt.

He kissed you firmly once you had parked, reluctantly pulling back as he slid his ballcap onto his head. There had been a much more protracted and physical farewell before you had left the hotel that morning.

“Take care…” He swallowed, voice wavering a little.

“You too…And have fun in Morocco, I know you’ve always wanted to film there.” You smiled bravely and his eyes traced the features of your face for a moment longer, as though to memorize it, before he climbed out and grabbed his bags, heading inside. You watched him disappear into the crowd before driving off with a heavy, lonely sigh to return the rental car and start making your own way home.

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You covered your tired eyes, cupping them with your warm palms as you leaned back in the plush writing chair in your office. The former guest room in Austin’s rented home in Los Angeles before he had added your name to the lease and converted it into the perfect writer’s sanctuary.

Austin had invaded your home, as promised, as soon as his project in Morocco wrapped. And you had not been back from the airport with him for five minutes before you had burst into tears. Rambling about the offer from Pearce to write a script that had arrived just that morning, the crushing realization it had bought that you were so utterly changed that your ‘real’ job brought you no more satisfaction, that he had been right that night in Valence when he caught you calling yourself a writer. There had been no more denying it then.

Austin had held you, soothed you, and helped you produce a plan. Offered you a place to live and write in LA, where Pearce was based. A safety net. He had also pleaded for you to never part from him again. He had confessed it had been agony and you had rushed to agree. Tripped over your words as you tried to express you felt the same.

You let your hands fall from your eyes, blinking them clear as the heat of your skin had allowed them to produce an abundance of tears – rehydrated them. You looked at the flashing cursor on your screen. So close. Just a few more lines to finish this scene and then you could send it off to Pearce to add into the script. You looked to the plate at your elbow and smiled as you pierced the last bite of the dinner Austin had brought you before he had gone to Ashely Tisdale’s party. A party that you were also supposed to be attending.

He had come in to tell you it was time to get ready, taken one look at you, and kissed your temple.

“I’ll give her your regrets.” He had murmured warmly into your hair, returning once with dinner, before leaving you to your work.

Eating the last bit of fuel, you leaned over the keyboard and pondered and stewed until at last the next words came to you. After some minor tweaks, you nodded to yourself and sent it off to Pearce, taking your plate to the kitchen. You washed the dishes Austin had used to cook for you, eyes drifting to the calendar on the fridge. Tomorrow. Tomorrow was the premiere of At Any Cost.A gorgeous dress was hanging in the closet for you, beside his all-navy ensemble. It was there in writing, and yet you still had a tough time believing it was real. You were extremely grateful to know that you would have Austin to cling to through most of the ordeal. You sighed softly and set up the coffee to brew for the next morning before soaking in the bath and heading to bed, Austin still out even though it was late.

His head is between your thighs, that wickedly talented mouth working in partnership with his fingers to torment you, driving you ever closer towards the orgasm hovering just beyond your reach, before backing off and slowing down. Making you whine.

“Please. Austin. Please.”

The answering groan is so vivid, so real…

You jerked your head upward to find yourself sprawled across Austin’s side of the bed, face buried in his pillow, hand firmly between your legs.

“Not again…” You muttered and shifted to right yourself, to properly do something about your lingering arousal, when you heard that groan, his groan, from the chair in the corner.

Your head snapped in his direction, and you felt heat burn your cheeks as you quickly removed your hand from your folds. Caught wet handed.

“A regular occurrence, cricket? Dreaming about me?” His voice was thick and just a little bit tipsy. “I’ve only been gone for five hours…”

Swallowing your embarrassment, and focusing on your need, you crossed the floor to crawl into his lap.

“Frequently.” You whispered into his ear, rocking your hips against his, pressing your core against the outline of his cock through his pants. “You can make me cum in my sleep, Austin.” You chewed your lip, wondering if that was a bit too bold, but you had come to learn the man was fond of a filthy mouth.

The deep rumble of the growl that ripped from his chest was all the reassurance you needed. His hand slid past the waistband of your sleep shorts, fingers tracing your folds as he bit off a sharp curse.

“You’re as slippery as duckweed, cricket.” He groaned and gripped your hip with his free hand, raising then up to work your bottoms off as your own hands attacked his belt and fly.

After a bit of mutual struggle, you were impaled on his cock, sinking lower onto his length with an agonized moan as he filled you so completely. You fell forward against his chest, panting in his ear as your hips rocked against his before you raised and lowered them, riding him in earnest.

“Your mouth was on me…” You spoke breathlessly against his ear. “…devouring my cunt like it was the last food on earth…” His hips snapped up to meet your eagerly and your eyes rolled back in your head with a moan. “Those…those fucking fingers of yours curling into my g-spot and I…” You gasped as he surged to his feet, walking the few steps to the bed, laying you down upon it.

His left hand gathered both your wrists, pinioning them in his generous grip above your head as his right hand pressed down on your lower abdomen, making you feel impossibly fuller.

“You make the best noises when I do that, don’t you…” He rasped, egging you on. “Can’t get enough of my fingers…but always…” He thrust tightly against you. “…need my cock…”

“Always!” You cried out in agreement, back arching. He gave you no quarter, thumb dropping between your legs to circle your pulsing clitoris as every deep thrust nudged the head of your cervix. “Oh fuck!” You wailed softly, clasping your hands together in his grasp, squirming beneath him as your orgasm was shockingly close.

“Shit, cricket, yes…please…cum for me…” The muscles of his jaw bunched beneath his tanned skin as he tried to hold back, tried to make you finish first.

He did not have to wait long, his thumbnail accidentally catching against your sensitive nub had your orgasm striking you like white, hot lightning and his choked cry sounded as he followed shortly after.

Later that day, as you stood at his side on the red carpet, his arm wrapped around your waist, you could not stop beaming. It was a struggle to keep your eyes open, assaulted by the burn of endless camera flashes, but all the practice to maintain a pleasant expression had proved unnecessary. You had decided early on that smoldering was better left to actors and models, something he had agreed upon with the statement “couldn’t bear you looking at anyone like that except me.” You bit your lip as you stepped aside for the ‘Talent only’ shots, but he was soon holding his arm out to pull you into his side again as you moved further down the line.

As you reached the next mark on the ground, you leaned up to whisper in his ear. The aggressive heels that were currently paining your feet made the distance shorter than usual.

“A year-and-a-half ago, when I was walking into the conference room at Pinewood, I was convinced this was all a mistake.”

He threw his head back in a rich laugh, and you grinned up at him lovingly, hand resting upon his stomach, his free hand laying atop it.

This was the photo that became the most popular from that night. The caption below listing his name and yours, with Sloan Thornton written in brackets beside. Just as it was written on the credits at the end of the movie.

For it had definitely not been a mistake, after all.

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Read Austin & Cricket's Holiday Special

Nom De Plume Masterlist

[ktheist]

| the wrong star

warnings: mentions of gun, death, too much dick shoutouts and implied smut.

jimin isn’t exactly someone you’re supposed to get attached to. not that you were planning to in the first place. but things... things happen.

at first, it’s a trip to some island that’s supposed to be famous for its volcanic clay produce. the chalet they got you was nice. a single room with the bed facing the sea and almost translucent curtains covering a clear wall-sized sliding door that could let a sniper put a bullet in your head in your sleep.

but you tend to be more lax. it’s a hard-earned vacation and if someone is going to assassinate you in your sleep, they’re gonna wish they hadn’t.

after leading the devilishly handsome man you had a few too many drinks with at the bar, you find yourself in your room. articles of clothing falling onto the ground faster than you can register. it’s when the back of your calves hit the edge of the bed, do you wedge a foot around his ankle and swiftly step to the side, sending him tumbling down into the silken sheets.

a groan escapes his lips and you wonder if it’s made up. if he meant to sound like he’s caught off guard by your sudden movement, but you don’t have the time to ponder on it as you pull out a gun from beneath the gap between the bed and the floor.

“who sent you?” your voice is as cold as steel, hands groping around his chiseled body for a wire.

“easy, sweetheart,” his tone becomes more calculated when he feels the cold barrel against the back of his neck, hands coming up to his head, “believe it or not, i’m here for a vacation - well, or was.”

“oh, isn’t that just a big fat coincidence,” you mock, “two assassins, in the same island, at the same resort.”

as the odds stack up, you feel the muscles in jimin’s back tense up, “it’s got the best view of the beach and if you’re as good as you seem to be - which you are, judging from how you noticed i’m an assassin too - you probably earned as much as me which explains why you got the most expensive room they have.”

“even a child can come up with-” your words get lodged in your throat as the world spins for a split second before you’re slammed into the mattress.

your grip on the gun remains still but a larger hand seems to press on your wrist so it’s pointing in the direction of the sliding door and away from his veins. his thighs lock your hips down and his free hand holds a knife to your throat.

“is ___ even your real name?” he cocks his head to the side, as though giving you a once over before deciding whether you look like a ___.

“jimin can’t be yours,” you scoff. who would be foolish enough to-

“it is.” he cuts your train of thoughts, “you can check my social security number,” his offer seems a bit too willing, “i told you i’m here for a strictly non-working matter.”

all of a sudden, flashes of jimin’s - you’re not a hundred percent convinced, but let’s just call him that for now - suave smile, his hungry eyes and far too carefree hand plays at the back of your mind.

“to get laid.” you offer a better term for him, to which he rolls his eyes.

“yeah, okay,” he huffs, “it’s been sixteen months, don’t judge me.”

at the unsolicited information, you can’t help but narrow your eyes, “if you can’t get laid in the city, what makes you think you can get laid in some island with lesser population?”

“you must never had a girl you met at a club - and yes, from said city - try to cut your dick off when you thought you were getting some,” he says plainly, the moonlight pouring through the clear sliding door providing barely enough light to allow you to see the distorted expression he’s making. as though he hasn’t emotionally recovered from that yet.

“well, second time’s the charm, right?” the littlest gap between his crotch and your hips allows you to root your feet into the mattress and force yourself up, sending his balance off so you’d have enough time to slip your legs over his hips, switch your positions and point your gun against his sharp jawline.

but that also means his hand was free to secure his life by pressing the cold blade of the knife against your neck. and yes, again.

“you don’t look like you’re on a mission to kill either,” he asserts, eyes glinting with a sort of bloodthirsty desire you didn’t notice before - well, to be fair, before he was cracking jokes and wasn’t taking this life threatening situation seriously, “how bout we just... part ways and never speak of this to our organization ever again?”

you take the longest moment to weigh out the pros and cons. pros: you get to enjoy the rest of your vacation without being called back to or ordered to kill jimin. cons: you might have to sleep with one eye open for the rest of this vacation.

the answer teeters on the tip of your tongue but the tangibility of the tension seems to clasp against your lips, forbidding you from uttering-

“yeah, okay,” as soon as the words hit the air, it’s as though a thick blanket of haze has lifted.

you roll off the man at the same time he lets out an audible sigh, the knife falling off his hands and echoing in three thuds before the room goes silent again, save for your breathings.

“god,” jimin heaves out, “i thought i was gonna get my head blown off instead of my dick.”

“how is that better than getting a vasectomy... with a bullet... and on your dick?” you ask into the darkness, the gun lying a few inches from your hand after you let it slip away and fall against the mattress.

“trust me, sweetheart,” you catch him shooting a look at you, “anything is better than living a life without a dick.”

you don’t quite understand how an assassin would be so scared of pain, regardless if it’s around the genital area but you’re just glad your vacation doesn’t have to be cut short just because you cross the wrong star at the wrong time.

after the... incident, you’ve managed to avoid each other successfully. until your last night at the island. some big shot was throwing a pool party and everyone’s invited. jimin was surrounded with three girls with the prettiest faces and curviest bodies, hands trailing up his sculpted abdomen which he lets out to the world as his floral blue shirt hangs on his shoulders, unbuttoned.

guess, his sixteen month dry spell ends tonight.

“you,” an obnoxious voice calls - you have half the mind to slam him against the ground and make him beg for forgiveness for addressing a lady as ‘you’ but you twirl around with a smile and a certain roll in your hips. the host, a young man with a proportionate body and golden blond hair bites down on his lips as he undress you with his eyes, “you came.”

you met him while you were tanning - or rather, the sun seemed to have suddenly been covered by the clouds so you pried one eye open, only to see a man with too much ego and too small a dick standing over you.

taehyung - unfortunately, you don’t forget names that easily - tried to chat you up but after your third rejection, he’d left with a, “i’m having a pool party tonight - you should come and see what you’re missing out on.”

“thought i’d see what i’m missing out on,” you give him a once over, noticing how he’s looking at you with eyes full of anticipation before it darkens with devastation at your next words, “not much though.”

but that baby face instantly lights up when you take a step into the jacuzzi, one hand hovering over the water as you sip the tequila before finally closing the distance. the woman and men who were latching onto him began to leave the warmth of the tub one by one until you’re setting the flute glass on the edge.

“so, where you from?” taehyung begins, only to suck in a deep breath as you press your body up against him.

“less talking, more making out, yeah?” you murmur against his lips, your own curling into a pleased smirk when his hands cup your ass and he devours your lips.

it takes about five shots of jaeger for him to pass out on the suede long couch somewhere in a more private part near the pool. you asked for it because you weren’t drunk enough to ignore the eyes that seem to follow your every move and they aren’t taehyung’s.

with a dejected sigh, you tie the line of your bikini bra around your neck and back before slipping through the white curtain that hung around the gazebo, fully intending to call it a night... until a silhouette step into the pathway to your room.

“thought you were getting your dick blown,” you comment despite knowing that he was probably too busy trying to see through the gaps of the curtains around the gazebo to actually have his dick inside someone.

“thought you were getting one in you,” his tone bears more mockery than yours - dare you say, personal.

“i’m leaving tomorrow,” you brush past him, the sound of the waves crashing becoming louder as you tread further down the path.

“oh,” is all he says - not that you’re expecting much.

yet your chest still aches with a sort of disappointment much heavier than taehyung’s sleeping form and limp dick.

when you come to a stop in front of the wooden door, you finally break the silence, “___ is my real name, by the way.”

it doesn’t take long for jimin to soak in your words. barely more than a second. and before you know it, your lips are melding with a pair of luscious ones. they’re as soft and sweet as the words that come out of them the day you first started talking.

it should feel deja vu, how you’re backing up against nothing and how the two piece clothing you have on is easier to slip off your body than the tank top and skirt from the first time. and jimin’s shirt only needs being pushed off his shoulder - his trunks need a bit more attention because it got stuck around his hardening dick.

but the struggle is worth the wait because you woke up with black and blue bruises and a sort of soreness in your legs that could only mean one thing: that the sex was out of this world.

when you brush the man’s bleached hair out of his face, you half-expect him to grasp your hand like it’s some gun aimed at him while he’s at his most vulnerable. but his eyes flutter open a little too belatedly. they curve into crescents when they see you as does his lips.

“morning,” he murmurs ever so gently - you wonder how he does that with a groggy voice.

you order breakfast in bed and eat them together, laughing and messing around like you’ve known each other for longer than a week. but neither of you disclose what organization you work for. you just... cuddle on the bed until it’s time for you to pack, it isn’t much since you know not to bring too many thins in case you needed to leave quickly. perhaps in the middle of the night.

you part with kisses and hugs like you’re never going to see each other again.

well, you don’t because the organization sends you for jobs all around the country, sometimes even to neighboring ones until you hit your third month of coming back after the vacation. 

you’re decked in a fake diamond encrusted lingerie with thighs gripping the pole better than your wig. the person who requested you had company and among them is none other than jimin. his hair is dyed into a deep brown shade, giving him a mysterious air as he watches you put a bullet in your target’s mouth. a proud smile plastered over his face.

“please, don’t shoot me or my dick,” he holds his hands up in a playful manner once you discard the gun somewhere next to the bodies.

“i’m not even going to ask how you found me,” you trust him enough to know there isn’t any assassins you need to be wary of in the club until at least three minutes before you have to report to your own. his lips tastes like peppermint and beer.

and so it goes your little rendezvous. from tokyo to milan all the way to egypt, you’d somehow find a way to coordinate your jobs in the same city and spend the rest of the nights and days with each other after you’re done with your target. 

“i wanna quit,” jimin announces, one fine night in the hot summer air of the philippines.

“what? us?” it’s just your wishful thinking, because there’s no other reason for him to leave his job unless he wants a death wish.

he sits up despite having your head on his arm - and when he does that, you know he means business. or resignation, really.

“i’m only doing this because i had nothing to lose back then,” his callous thumb rubs the back of your hand - more specifically, the knuckle of your ring finger, “but i have everything to lose right now and i rather not second guess myself until it’s too late.”

“jimin,” you only ever say his name when you want to snap him out of his ludicrous thoughts - and the last time, he proposed getting into a cartel just and staging your deaths, “you do know they’re not going to let you go that easy - you’re an asset.”

it didn’t take too long for you to realize that. and it took you a shorter period of time to let it sink in that jimin had known you were an assassin all along that day but chose to place his bet on you not killing him so he flirted with you anyway.

“which is why i should go over to your organization - they’ll accept me for the information i have on mine,” he pulls out a hard drive from the drawer he kept his guns in.

“and what makes you think you won’t be killed once they got all the information they need from you?” you refute.

“well,” he squeezes your hand, eyes coming up to meet you, “that’ll probably take them six months to realize i have nothing more to give them - and by then, i’m hoping we’d be gone.”

he means dead. legally.

“i don’t know...” and for the first time since you were eighteen, you couldn’t draw up the best course of action to take to get yourself out of a sticky situation, but you do know one thing, “i don’t think of you as just a fling and if this is some heat-of-the-moment thing-”

“i want us to get married,” he cuts you off, or so he thought he got it right.

“not exactly what i was trying to say,” you can’t help but giggle, but you don’t oppose proposition.

it’s been an arduous process since then. scraping for information, risking your identities and suspicion of your own organization when you started to highly recommend jimin to the board. but your supervisor and trainer had backed you up - only because he personally went against jimin and it’d left him with a in his back that disallowed him from taking on jobs and subdued into a trainer for the newbies.

“how long?” the moment those words slip out of namjoon’s lips, you don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say that your heart quite literally dropped.

“how long what?” yet you still manage to school your face into a stoic one - they make you take classes for that too.

“look, kid, i’ve known you since you were fifteen with snot running out of your nose every time you have to come in for shooting lessons,” those sharp eyes that seem to peel every layer of your lies with just a glance. he brings up one hand, cigarette in between his middle and ring finger while his index finger points at you, “and i know a look that screams i’ll die for the person i thought is the love of my life but really is just some hot flame i met while i’m in my 20′s, when i see one.”

“he’s not just some guy,” is all you say and hear.

but namjoon begs to differ, head shaking as he lowers his gaze - as though he couldn’t bear to look at a disappointment before he sucks in a breath and meets your eyes, “i don’t wanna see your face bloodied and bruised in that interrogation room,” he waves his index finger in the direction of the hallway where the infamous interrogation room lays, the smoke from the bud forming a circle before it disappears into the air, “or so help me god, i will kill you myself.”

“thank you, namjoon.” the gratitude scrapes against your throat like a knife, because this is him saying he’ll help you - both you and jimin get out of this god forsaken place and that means putting his life on the line for it.

then so begins jimin’s double agency, going back and forth, supplying every drop of information he can for yours until his organization caught wind of his betrayal. but by then, he’s already halfway across the world, taking a job as an assassin from your organization and under its protection.

you don’t talk even though you see each other in the hallway. pretend like neither existed while you fuck like you’ve never had a drop of water in the toilet of some club in the country you manage to coordinate your jobs in.

but that was rare. two assassins in the same country, taking a job.

then comes the ratchet moment. when jimin’s six months are up and they find him more of a liability than an opportunity. the better the agent, the high likely he’ll stab you in the back like he did with his last organization.

something like the saying if he cheats with you, he’ll cheat on you.

but in a way, you’re both cheaters. of life. of death. of everything that you were thrust into in a guise for a better life than the slumps you come from.

“get out of the way, ___,” jimin could have convinced you that he truly, honestly betrayed you as he holds the gun and points it at you.

“jimin, think about it, if you put your gun down, i shoot you, you die an instant death,” it’s not much of an offer but he’s in no position to refuse as the siren ring throughout the building and red lights begin to replace the bright luminescent ones.

it is in that moment, when namjoon slips through the vents and kicks takes your brown haired lover off guard, do you rush in to wrestle the gun out of his hands. someway, somehow, the struggle ended with a bullet in you and you’re like fish gasping for air, your vision slowly blurring as you watch namjoon run after jimin two seconds into hesitating whether to save you or abandon you because the others would come for you.

the chase continues until jimin slips into the sewer - possibly his planned escape route which he thought would be the last step to escaping his pursuers. only to meet his death. they found his body a good one hour later but he’s almost bloated from having been left in the cold water by namjoon who barely made it back to call for back up and sent people to get jimin’s body.

it’s exactly one year later, after going through rehab and barely managing to do menial, daily tasks do they discharge you. the bullet hit your spine and you had to go through multiple surgeries just to be able to feel your legs. it takes you longer than six months to be able to walk properly.

“i almost lost my life defending this very organization and even if you can’t relocate me to some nice, five star apartment,” tears fill your eyes as you speak in front of the board members, “at least let me live the rest of it without having to check my back if i have a red dot aimed at my heart.”

guess that speech was moving.

they never really let anyone go just like that but you’ve proved your loyalty by jumping in front of a volatile assassin and trying to tackle the gun out of his grasp with the help of namjoon.

oh and namjoon? he got promoted as a board member. he’d also been a major influence in your honorable discharge - as honorable as an assassin’s discharge can be.

now, you live somewhere on the outskirts of town. a tiny little house with a lawn and a one dog and one cat. you get by with writing articles and promotional posts for products.

it’s harder to write for longer hours than you remember it but you like it.

sometimes you get parcels every few days. sometimes they’re energy drinks, sometimes snack packs, and sometimes a pack of bullet for your guns in the most unlikely places.

today, moon, your doberman barks at from his special little area at the front yard, signaling the arrival of yet another package. it takes a moment for you to get to the door but when you do, it’s the the usual white and blue uniform wearing man.

“jimin,” you whisper his name like you’re afraid people from your organization is going to pop out of nowhere at the mention of him.

“hey sweetheart,” his smile still makes his eyes close, “i came to pick up my bride.”

you shake your head at his antics, tears filling your eyes as your own smile stretch across your face, “you’re just in time.”

x

note. check out my #excerpt from a fic i’ll never write for more excerpt-from-a-fic-i’ll-never-write-esque fics!

[the-origin-story]

Origin Story Character Text Posts +Cyra, Jean and Kira and The Squad

Kira: Someone: *tries to guilt trip me* Me: the jokes on you!! i feel guilty 97% of the time for Everything I Do!, if i didn't have have depression no one could fucking stop me. i only have depression because otherwise im too powerful., please don't flirt with people i secretly like it's rude and disrespectful, i have three moods: fuck off, fuck you, fuck me., im cute and small and ready to brawl, "talk about" hahah, no no, i prefer to internalize all my problems so they eat away at me from inside until im unable to function in any way, no offense @life but can a have a breather...a break...some slack..., yea boys are cute but they disgust me and constantly disappoint me, she's beauty, she's grace, she'll punch you in the face, 5'2 but my attitude 6'2, "If I don't have calves of steel or abs of iron by the end of this trip, I'm going to feel so cheated.", "No offense, but I just can't process the fact that someone might actually care about me.", night time would be so beautiful and fun if all men had a curfew. me?? using sarcasm as a defense mechanism???????? what?????, When a girl says she has experimented with girls, that does not necessarily mean she's bi. She may just be an evil scientist., the bible said adam AND eve so i slept with them both, list of people i'm going to fight: everyone. put your fists up i'm coming for you, stale cinnamon roll, been in this world too long, too cynical

Jean: i don't have a nervous system. i am a nervous system., pick your battles. pick...fewer battles than that. put some battles back. that's too many., Wakey wakey eggs and social anxiety, enough about sex positions has anyone discovered a reading position which doesn't get uncomfortable after 5 minutes, i'm actually pretty cool just me like 5 tries to get it right, i love freckles theyre skin stars, never underestimate my ability to find shit out, "I don't feel that sore right now, but ask me again tomorrow and I'm sure I'll have a more colorful answer for you.", my life is constantly an inner monologue of "why do i do this to myself", 90% of my day is me being nervous., every friend group has the mom friend, if you don't who it is you're it.

Cypress: biology more like BYEology because I'm out, Highest form of art: girls, i don't want to look "pretty" i want to look otherworldly and vaguely threatening, things that make every video game better: give me nice outfits to wear, let me be gay, give me a pet, yoU THINK YOU'RE REAL CUTE, DON'T YOU???? REAL FUCKING CUTE RIGHT???? i think so to, "Your aim's a little off - now look at that. You just smushed the ant. Now it can't crawl anymore.", appreciation post for broccoli, thanks for being so tasty you tiny trees, there are people out there that are the embodiment of the sun like the things they say and do light up the world and make you feel warm they are human sunshine, I slept for 8 hours straight and then 2 hours gay, fuck dating girls who are "naturally pretty". date girls who are supernaturally pretty. date a hot ass ghost. date a fucking alien., Current mood: wanting to have a hooded cloak and to be in misty forest., You Want To See Some Goddamn Optimism?, "guys prefer-" that's nice i don't care, how to look cute but like you could kill someone

Liam: ive been annoyed ever since i was born, members of my squad: me, I may seem like an asshole but deep down im a good person and even deeper down im a bigger asshole, I came out to attack people and I'm honestly having such a good time right now, me, introducing myself: it is i, your local asshole, my kink is when everyone shuts the fuck up, *at a job interview* Oh yes, my criminal record? The only illegal thing I've done in absolutely KILLIN it on the dancefloor. Haha, just kidding! I have killed a man., The worst part about kissing a perfect ten is the cold feeling your lips get from touching the mirror., i don't want a friend w/ benefits i just want the benefits keep your friendship away from me, Ur what we call in the scientific community a "lil bitch", have u ever met the human version of a headache, *barges out of coffin at funeral yelling sike*, i'm permanently emotionally damaged, but its chill, I'm chill, no addressing our problems we downward spiral like men, I'm wasting my youth and beauty being a mysterious eccentric loner and I wouldn't have it any other way, im alive out of spite

Beckett: world's okayest friend, Do you ever look at someone and you're like how, "What are you twelve" Yeah on a scale of one to ten bye, having 3 friends is a lot of work, "Yeah I'm going chug four servings of this entire energy drink so I can crash later and actually get some sleep.", when you see a person smile and it's like...holy shit...what is this magic...please do that again, Stop taking advantage of people with good hearts & who are emotionally vulnerable, "you're so sweet!" thank you i have abandonment issues, IF YOU'RE THE KIND OF GUY WHO KISSES A GIRL ON THE TOP OF THE HEAD WHEN HUG THEM THEN YOU ARE DOING IT RIGHT MY FRIEND, beautiful cinnamon roll too good for this world, too pure, why is everyone so mean. How aren't you tired

Cyra: When a grumbly grump who hates everyone and sees the world as dark and cold and unforgiving loves a sunshiney optimist. When a sunshiney optimist who sees the best in everyone thinks the grumbly grump is the best thing out of the whole beautiful world., do you like sleeping because so do i we should do it together sometime, love yourself so we can have something in common, how many eye contact until date, beING SUPER IN LOVE WITH YOUR FRIENDS BUT IN A FRIEND WAY but also a little bit in a gay way but also in a friEND WAY, anyone have that friend that you REALLY wanna fuck but you're never gonna say anything about it, listen i didn't come here to ship it lightly ok i came here for it to consume my soul, you could take me on a date anywhere and i'd be happy. like it could be the movie theater, or watching a movie at your house. fuck you could take me outside and we could look at clouds and climb trees i do not care as long as we hold hands or something at some point., my mom thought otp meant "oh, the pain." what's the difference., My way of flirting is looking at the person I'm attracted to and hoping they're braver than I am., i;m feeling...what's the word...........gay, I AM GOING TO PUNCH YOU IN THE MOUTH WITH MY OWN MOUTH Softly Because I like you

Jean and Kira: i would follow you to the ends of the earth with only mild complaining, does anybody else have that friend that your pretty sure is your soulmate but in a friend way, friend(jean): fuck off stop punching me me(kira): it's called platonic bdsm, when ur best friend says something weird and ur just like...I love you but what have I gotten myself into with this friendship, do you ever look at your best friend and just "who the hell blessed me with this dork, i am the luckiest loser in the galaxy."

The Squad: "what are the chances of EVERYONE in a friend group being queer" do you realize that we all tend to flock together like penguins huddling for warmth in a cold heteronormative, world right