#he usually dresses like he’s never seen clothes before but Jesus Christ he hit me upside the head with this look | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

whatifyoulivelikethat · 4 years ago

Text

bb / gg, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Jeon Jungkook is the lead singer in a rock band and failed his Biology class last semester, so he has to take remedial classes over the summer. You're the Biology TA, double major in Psychology and Biology, watching him freak out over his make-up exam because he had overslept. Both of you are surrounded by rumors. Does the title stand for bad boy / good girl or bad bitch / good guy? Who knows.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; not the healthiest dynamic tbh; slight angst due to perceived unrequited love; smut (fem reader, D/s dynamics, begging, scratching / marking, choking, handjob (he is still wearing underwear), multiple orgasms, cowgirl, hair pulling, edging / orgasm denial, cock ring usage, m-masturbation, cum-eating); non-idol!BTS – rock singer, sub!Jungkook x studious, dom!reader

yes, it's SOWOOZOO JK, both the first yellow tropical look and the shredded black shirt look; for those who wanted him to be dom!JK, there is a moment when he is but not in the way you think because that's how I operate

Jeon Jungkook was a bad boy.

Wore too much black, dyed his hair too much, had tattoos, always had girls hanging around him. Sang in a rock band on the weekends, played electric guitar, played the game of how-many-numbers-can-I-get tonight? Never gave a girl his leather jacket to wear but was happy to buy her a drink and flirt with her until she got hot with arousal.

You were a good girl.

Always wore a blazer. Crisp white dress shirt and pleated skirt underneath, usually in a dark color. Sensible heels, but always heels. Did too many units a semester because you were double majoring in psychology and biology. Always arrived to class early, always turned in your assignments on time, always turned in your tests early and aced that shit. Took physics with calculus even though you didn’t have to because it was the harder one and you wanted a challenge.

Against the wall, shoving a fist into the neck, lips to lips, teeth snapping, hand travelling down, whimpering pleas and harsh growls, keep crying, I like it, ecstasy and pain, nails to skin. Tearing clothes off, biting, marking, I own you, and then, yes, you do, mouth and tongue, aching pleasure, cocked eyebrow, mocking the pathetic whines and cries, stopping right before the end, no, please, I’ve been good, and, you take what you get, hand fitting onto the neck, squeezing the sides, eyes rolling back, skin to skin, bruising slaps that would be seen tomorrow in the mirror, traced with shaking fingers and pants of an open mouth, moaning at the memory of sky-high pleasure while lightheaded and thoughtless, desperate to do it again.

There was a rumor.

Everyone liked Jeon Jungkook. He had two smiles, an endearing one and a teasing one. Both encapsulated the kind of person he was, honest and playful. He always sang with conviction, he rapped with savagery, and his lyrics were always from the heart. He always hung out with his bandmates after their performances at bars and interacted with those that came up to him. No one ever said Jungkook was mean or rude in any way.

And yet.

There was a rumor.

A rumor that Jeon Jungkook was taken.

He was the kind of guy that always made sure a drunk girl got home safe even though he didn’t know them. Paid for their taxi and everything. He focused a lot on his music and writing lyrics he thought would connect with others while taking into account his band members. He always told the truth if a girl confessed to him, saying he wasn’t looking right now, that he was very sorry if she thought otherwise, that there was someone he was already interested in.

“Oi.”

You slammed a hand onto the tabletop and Jeon Jungkook jumped, the shredded black shirt he was wearing falling down his shoulder, revealing his ink black tattoos on his tan skin. He was wearing a black tank top underneath.

“What’s with you? You missed the exam for your remedial class and you’ve spent the past ten minutes spacing out at your make-up exam,” you barked, pointing to his empty exam sheet. “You haven’t even filled out you name.”

Jungkook swallowed hard. “S… Sorry.”

You frowned. Why was he apologizing to you? Honestly, why did you sign up for this summer TA position again? Oh, right, money and credits. Hmph. It was really just an excuse for the professor to slack off while you did the tedious things like grading and watching over idiots that skipped class. Sorry, overslept. Hung over, probably, since this was the Jeon Jungkook. Rockstar, hottie, famous in his own way.

Whatever.

He could be Jesus Christ and you would still be scolding him for missing his remedial Biology exam.

“Fill out your name so at least I can fail you properly.”

Not that it mattered, since you knew who he was. He didn’t know you knew who he was, and you had zero incentive to inform him that you were indeed aware of the existence of black-haired, tattooed, chiseled-jaw, sparkly-eyed Jeon Jungkook, all due to the constant snide remarks that followed you in your wake.

You wouldn’t be such a bitch if a guy like Jeon Jungkook put you in your place.

Who the fuck was Jeon Jungkook?

This guy, this weirdo about to fail his fucking Biology exam in front of your face.

Impatiently, you rolled up the sleeves of your gray blazer and grabbed a chair, dragging it up to the table. You snapped the chair down and sat in it, smoothing your skirt. You liked to be neat. Even though university didn’t have a uniform, you liked to keep some sort of uniform for yourself. There was a sense of security in knowing you didn’t have to select an outfit every morning. Today, white dress shirt, gray blazer, pleated black skirt that hit slightly higher than mid-thigh. Every other outfit was some variation of this and, in the winter, you wore thick stockings.

You clicked your heels together under the table sharply.

He flinched at the sound.

Jungkook wasn’t looking at you. He was mumbling at his paper.

“I… I think I studied the wrong chapters…”

You clicked your tongue. Jeez.

His hand was shaking so bad that his pen was practically vibrating. You leaned over the table, grabbing his fist to still it.

“Stop.”

Your bare knees hit his bare knees, mostly because he was wearing black jeans with giant holes in them. Jungkook froze, head snapping up, silver earrings jangling, black hair flying, undercut visible for a second.

“You want to pass this class or what?”

He nodded quickly in response.

“Good. I want to get out of here. Keep your mouth shut. Answer to the first question is A.”

His eyes widened.

“Are you… helping me cheat?” he whispered, terrified.

You cocked your head, letting go of his hand. “You said you studied the wrong chapters. I’m not spending forty-five minutes of my life to watch you panic and then ten minutes more failing you,” you replied lowly, dangerous edge to your voice.

“I… couldn’t… I mean…”

You shoved his knees open with yours, narrowing your eyes as he yelped, pleading look in those brown doe eyes. You pressed your knees on the inside of his thighs, keeping them open.

“Answer to the second question is C.”

When Jungkook didn’t move, you reached over and cupped his chin. Felt his racing heartbeat pounding through his veins, coursing through your fingertips. Stared deep into those eyes, lowering the octave of your voice, keeping his thighs spread for you under the table.

“Listen to me,” you murmured softly. “Okay, Jungkook?”

“O… Okay…”

And he did.

There was a rumor.

Nobody liked you. Maybe it was because of your high scores ruining the class test average. Maybe it was the dismissive way you spoke to people, almost demeaning. Most likely it was a combination of the two. Students talked behind your back all the time, spreading rumors. Friends? What friends? You had an average of twenty class credits a semester. You didn’t have time to make friends. And besides, why try to make friends when clearly nobody wanted to be your friend?

And yet.

There was a rumor.

You ignored such things. You didn’t need such distractions.

“It would be too suspicious if you got full marks. This score is high enough.”

“O… Okay…”

“Get on the table.”

Jungkook scrambled on the wooden tabletop as you pushed his exam aside. You were still sitting in your chair. Your head tilted, eyebrow lifting at his speedy response to your rather suspicious request.

“You listened.”

He blinked at you. “Uh… yeah?”

Silence.

“Why?” you finally said.

Jungkook gulped. “Be… because you asked,” he mumbled, knees on the table, hands clutching his knees.

“You can just walk out and report me.”

He shook his head quickly, black hair flying everywhere. “I don’t want to.”

Your other eyebrow raised. He chewed on his lip, a flash of pink tongue in his movement.

“Tell me what you want. I’ll do it.”

Well.

You decided to test his conviction.

“Edge of the table. Spread your legs for me.”

Instantly, obediently, Jeon Jungkook surprised you by doing it, putting each leg on either side of you, chunky black sneakers hanging down. Shredded black shirt open, hands behind his ass, towering over you, and yet his eyes were watching you, waiting for more, begging for instruction.

“Hm.”

You raised your chin, seeing his impressively muscular thighs and body displayed for you to take. He was so close you could smell his clean, dreamy scent, like a meadow in summer dusk, surrounded by peeking stars and blinking fireflies. Interesting.

But you didn’t need the distraction.

“That’s it. You can go now,” you said dismissively, about to push your chair back.

His legs closed in, pressing firmly into your upper arms. Your eyes flickered up to him.

Jungkook shook his head very slowly.

“Do what you want.”

You saw his chest rise and fall, his silvery voice deepening, pupils expanding.

“I know you want to do something to me.”

His erection was bulging against the zipper of his black jeans. Your eyes went back to his face. He shivered at your sharp stare. All of this was happening in an otherwise empty lecture hall, with you and Jungkook at the very bottom.

Just you and him.

You placed your hands on his thighs. He jumped a little, but scooted closer to you. You slid your hands up. You undid the button of his jeans, scrutinizing those brown eyes. He raised his hips to help you as you pulled the zipper down.

“You don’t know me,” you finally said, no inflection in your voice.

He didn’t look away. “I don’t care.”

“Hmm.” You smirked. “Bad boy, aren’t you?”

Jungkook shook his head slightly, but didn’t break eye contact as you pulled his pants to his knees and reached for his black boxer briefs. “No. I’m a good guy. I want to give you what you want.” You hooked your fingers over the waistband and nicked his skin with your nails, making him gasp, the pleasure evident in his tone. He did not try to hide it from you. “I want to be good for you.”

“Why is that?”

He hung his head a little.

“Something about… how you make me feel…” he muttered. His gaze finally faltered. You reached up and righted his chin, forcing him to look at you. Saw that Jungkook had a mole under his mouth, perfectly in the center. He had a nice shape to his pink lips. You tapped his cheek, nudging him to elaborate. “You… You’re so pretty… and smart… Everyone looks up to you because you have such good grades…”

You doubted that.

Jungkook probably had no idea that most of the school hated your guts.

You didn’t have classes with Jungkook, but you were sure he knew your name because your name was posted on the Dean’s List of the highest-ranking students of the university every semester. Also, you weren’t hard to miss. Every student moved out of your way when you walked through the halls, whispering behind their hands.

Jungkook brought you back to the present.

“I feel,” he whispered, voice trembling, gaze locking with yours. “I feel like I want to be on my knees for you.”

His skin was warm under your nails.

“Like this is where I belong, in your hands.”

You stood up.

Jungkook started, turning into a tight squeak as you placed your hand on his chest and pushed him down.

“Lift up your shirt with both hands.”

He did was he was told, revealing his toned abs and the lower half of his pecs, biting his lip, clutching onto his tank top, ears turning red as he craned his head to look down at you. You didn’t give him any satisfying response. His tan skin seemed to glow under the overhead lights. You studied his face.

Reached up and began to rub his erection through his underwear.

“A… ah…”

“Gonna make you cum like this.”

He shook his head quickly. “P… Please, no…”

You felt him swell and twitch under your hand. He was pretty big. Thick. Pretty boy with a pretty dick, probably. You rubbed the head with your palm, feeling his pre-cum leaking through the thin fabric. He wasn’t kidding when he said you made him feel some kind of way.

“Why not? Make you cum in your underwear and then you have to go all the way home covered in it. All dirty, just for me.”

His handsome face twisted with sinful pleasure at your suggestion, whimpers in his throat. His cock jerked with need, wanting it.

“O… Okay. Whatever you want.”

So obedient.

“So obedient, Jungkook,” you purred, rubbing faster.

He nodded. “For you. Only for you. Just for you.”

Was it just saying those things because he thought that was what you wanted to hear? Or was that how he actually felt? Surely not the latter, considering he didn’t really know you. You leaned over him, placing your free elbow on the table to stabilize yourself. You hadn’t even kissed him.

“You’re so hard for me,” your drawled, lowering your head, letting your warm breath float down onto his skin. “You want to cum for me, don’t you?”

“Y… yes, please…”

“You want to be my toy?”

You pressed your lips to his bellybutton, feeling the smoothness of his skin, tasting it. He moaned at your kiss, your swift tongue flickering out to that delicious skin, whining when your teeth nipped at the softness. Fuck, he tasted so good that you wanted to mark him. Looked so fucking good that you wanted to mess him up, mar him with temporary imperfections on the perfection that was Jeon Jungkook.

“Yes…”

With breathless, lustful conviction.

You licked up his abs, increasing the intensity and speed of rubbing the engorged head of his cock, the pre-cum already soaked through and creating a slippery surface, turning Jungkook’s pitched whines to deep moans, a melody that filled up the entire lecture hall until was the only thing you could hear, Jungkook’s moans as you bit his skin, his moans as you sucked on his skin, moans as you kissed the hard muscle, cries for more at you left marks, pleading for you, sweet and beautiful, clutching his shirt so tight that his knuckles were white, the black tattoos of his right hand standing out, his cock throbbing in your hand, his hips rising to hump your palm, your name on his lips, over and over and over.

“Gonna… gonna cum…” he panted, sniffing slightly, cheeks flushing pink. “Gonna cum like how you want me to, all over my underwear…”

Your fingertips touched his side, seeing him stiffen and then shudder at your gentle caress.

“Do it,” you murmured. “Show me how good you are at listening, Jungkook.”

He bit his lower lip, jaw clenching, squeezing his eyes shut, tipping his head back into the tabletop, whining your name in his chest, your palm working him, slick and hot and hard, pulsating under your roughness. With a sharp moan, his lower lip popped out of his teeth, dark red and swollen, small mole quivering.

“F-Fuck…!”

You felt it and heard it, the unmistakable jolt and squelch as his orgasm splattered inside his boxer briefs, drenching the fabric, drenching your hand, his embarrassed whines as he realized what he had done but still humping your hand, forcing out every last twitch of dribbling cum, causing you to smear it everywhere, coating the sensitive head and adding to the pleasure, his cheeks flushed red, eyes squeezed shut to savor the pleasure and avoid looking at you.

“Shh…”

You crawled onto the table, still holding his cock through his soiled underwear, squeezing it, free hand slipping under his head and lifting him, his eyes weakly opening, scared and anxious, but all you did was lean down and kiss him, pressing your lips to that pure softness, exhaling his name into his mouth, his scent staining your hand, his cologne filling your nose, your whisper in his throat.

“Time for you to go home.”

Jungkook thought you would tell everyone.

You did no such thing.

Instead, you ignored him.

He would see you three times a week and, three times a week, you arrived with the professor and left with the professor. Jungkook tried much harder to attend classes, but you seemed not to care either way. He would come to the front and collect his assignment and find that you had marked it up exactly like everyone else, red marks all over his incorrect answers. You didn’t even look in his direction.

The next exam was coming up quickly.

Part of him considered skipping exam day to have one-on-one time with you again.

“Jungkook.”

He jumped, jerking his head towards the hall, confused. Somehow, he had heard your voice. Or rather, did he imagine it? His teeth sunk into his lip, placing a hand on his forehead, confused. His head was confused. He couldn’t think straight. Why had he done such an embarrassing thing with you? Even you had told him to leave and report you. But Jungkook just couldn’t. Not then and not now. He had asked for it.

He still wanted it.

Nobody knew. Everybody thought he was a cocky, womanizing playboy. And he was, but not because of the sex. It was only because he was bored and that was all he could get. There was power in being on top.

And there was power in letting go.

You were bad for him.

He was a good guy.

You were a bad bitch.

And nobody knew.

A hand slapped down on his shoulder and yanked him around, the loose short sleeves of his yellow tropical shirt flaring out, making his sunglasses rattle on his face. You narrowed your eyes at him. Instant shivers down his spine at your stern gaze.

“Are you deaf?” you snapped. “I’ve been calling your name for the past minute.”

“I… S-Sor–”

You waved a hand dismissively, grabbing his right hand and slapping down a post-it into it.

“Chapters for the exam, including the date and time. Do not miss it this time. I will not let you make it up and fail you on the spot.”

You turned on your heel, letting go of his hand.

His left one shot out and circled around your arm, his rings pressing into your skin.

“Wait.”

You jerked your head towards him, glaring sharply. “Don’t touch me.”

And you yanked your arm out of his grasp, but his legs made the choice for him, following your swift strides, his backpack hanging off one shoulder, clutching the post-it and his last strands of sanity.

“Please, wait.”

“What?” was your curt response, not looking back at him.

“Please do it again,” he gasped breathlessly, unable to stop himself.

“Do what?”

“Have your way with me.”

You stopped walking.

Jungkook walked straight into your back and banged his nose on your head. He winced, stepping back and rubbing it gingerly. He didn’t register you turning around until it was too late and you were right in his face. You raised your chin and eyebrow simultaneously.

“No.”

He blinked rapidly, his tinted sunglasses halfway down the bridge of his nose.

“W… Why? Did you not like it? Was… was I bad?”

You let out an amused scoff.

The side of your lips curved upwards.

He had made you smile, even if only a little bit. Just that small thing was enough to feed his courage.

“I…” Jungkook coughed, clearing his throat before he spoke again, voice still a soft whisper in his embarrassment even though no one was around to eavesdrop. “I can be better. I can do better.”

Silence.

He thought you were going to walk away again.

You reached up and plucked his glasses off his nose. Folded them neatly and tucked them in his tropical shirt pocket. Then your eyes found his again and he knew something was different. He could see you clearly now, his vision no longer clouded by sienna.

Now, Jungkook could no longer stop it.

He could feel it all over him, coursing through his veins, arousal like fire. Something about you and something about him. Jungkook could sense the danger, but he didn’t want to run even though he knew he should. He had heard the rumors surrounding you. They could be true.

And yet.

“I want it,” Jungkook breathed, inviting himself into the danger. “I want you. I want to be your toy.”

Your discerning expression didn’t change.

You reached up and gripped his chin, digging your nails into his soft skin.

He whimpered in his chest, moving closer to you.

“What’s my name?”

His brows furrowed, saying your name hesitantly.

You pulled his chin down so he was eye-level.

“Next time you say my name, I will be choking it out of you.”

Everyone thought Jeon Jungkook was the kind of guy to grip your wrist with his left hand and your throat in his right, his lips against your ear and his sweaty chest against your back as you slapped your ass into his crotch and fucked yourself with his rock-hard cock, his smirk in your ear as he provided you with a certain type of encouragement.

“That’s right, you want this dick, don’t you? Show me. Prove to me you want it.”

His fingertips tightening against the sides of your neck, listening to your pathetic cries and moans as you tried to squirm against him, brain running out of oxygen due to lack of blood, running out of thoughts, running out of pleas as Jungkook gripped your wrist, deep snarl against your hair as he roughly finished himself off using your body because that’s all you were, someone to be used by him and nothing more, neck suddenly released with a breathless gasp and shoved face first into the sheets with his right hand splayed on your back, his tattoos and your orgasm crashing down on you, his growls staining the air and a fierce jerk of his hips to spill into your tight hole and leave you moments after, nothing but a discarded toy in his eyes.

You thought.

That was what everyone thought when Jeon Jungkook stood on stage, flipping his dark violet microphone between verses and smirking like a devil, truly in command of every thought and every pair of eyes on him, surrounded by a heavy bass line and deafening drums, guitar solo tearing through the moment to emphasize the next of his lips nearing the mic again, entrancing the crowd with his beautiful lips and talented tongue.

No one knew.

You were riding him hard and fast, torn condom wrappers and used condoms littering his bed, back-to-back orgasms, his head pressed into his pillows, your hand around his neck, the other leaving long lines down his chest, scratching him so hard that it dotted red, blooming lines of pain.

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop, f-fuck…”

Jungkook was hoarsely whispering, clutching his sheets, black hair soaked with sweat, raising his chest to your nails, whimpering, punish me, punish me, punish me, and you muttered plainly with a sharp edge, you talk too much, your grip tightening again, pressing onto the sides of his neck, cutting off the blood flow, and Jungkook moaned gratefully, eyelids fluttering, the slap of your hips to his louder and louder, filling up his whole bedroom, rattling his bedframe, fucking him so hard he was slowly sliding up to his headboard.

Your name fell from his lips in pure ecstasy, back arching to shove his whole length fully into you, thick and hard and twitching with need, your slick walls clamping down on him, fitting to him with a hiss. He began to match you, breathless, lightheaded, world hazy, moaning from deep in his chest, I love you, and your reply was only tightening your grip, your hand and your pussy, harder, harder, harder.

“Aren’t you such a good guy?” you scoffed sarcastically, letting up for only a second to let him reply, blood rocketing back into his brain, flooding him with oxygen, and Jungkook sucked in a lungful of air, reeling.

“N-No…” he panted. “You’re the good girl… you’re always s-so… so good to me…”

His eyes locked with yours hazy with lust and love. You almost looked away out of instinct.

“You a-always remember… what I like…” he managed to choke out.

You left him when you were done using him.

You pretended he didn’t say those words to you. There was no point in acknowledging the nonsense that he said in the middle of being choked and barely functioning. You tapped your pencil against your textbook.

You caught yourself thinking about him.

Jeon Jungkook.

Your eyes flickered to the clock. Late at night on a Friday. He was probably at a bar. You watched the second hand of your plain silver clock tick, tick away. You never asked to watch him and his band perform even though Jungkook always made it a point to text you the address and the time.

It was obvious Jungkook didn’t want you to be his secret.

He wasn’t really your secret either. You just saw no benefit to letting anyone know there was a connection between you and Jeon Jungkook. After all, you were just using him.

You stopped tapping your pencil.

Stared at the second hand.

Tick.

Heard the voices of the rumors poisoning you, saying the things they said.

She thinks she’s so much better than everyone else because she’s a nerd.

The only reason she has good grades is because she fucked that one professor.

I heard she dated him.

I mean, there’s a reason he left in the middle of the semester, right?

He had a wife!

Snap.

Your eyes flickered down.

The tip of your pencil lead rolled across the page, leaving tiny pinpricks of granite.

There was never any evidence because nothing happened. Nothing happened between you and said psychology professor. He left in the middle of the semester because his wife had a miscarriage and he wanted to be with her. It had nothing to do with you. You had long discussions with him about life and existentialism, hanging out during his office hours.

Sometimes, you felt bad.

Had you kept him from his wife? Would it have not happened if he just skipped his office hours and didn’t spend them talking to you? These were irrational, foolish thoughts. They made you guilty even when there was nothing to be guilty about.

He was a nice guy, mid-thirties. Everyone liked this professor.

They blamed you because they didn’t know.

Only you knew, because he told you with tears in his eyes and thanked you for being his student.

You didn’t tell anyone, because he did not owe you an explanation and you were not going to divulge someone’s personal business that they had shared with you in confidence. You watched your reputation crumble and fall apart, watched friends ostracize you, because you didn’t tell them anything and they didn’t believe you. You watched yourself turn bitter and hateful.

Just tell the truth.

There was no truth to be told.

You put your pencil down.

Closed your eyes.

Remembered Jungkook’s face.

Your hands were in his hair, pulling hard. His hot breath was in your face, arms shaking as he held himself up, fucking you into his mattress with whines in his chest, begging you, begging you, begging you.

“P-Please… let me cum, please…”

You liked to watch the sweat clinging to his high cheekbones and neck, jaw glistening with tension, feeling his strong body between your legs, his twitching hardness sliding into you repeatedly in rough, hard smacks, squeezing him every time he was fully sheathed inside you, vibrations coursing through you every time he came down.

“Not until I’m done,” you growled and he whimpered, pleading look in those brown doe eyes, black pupils expanded, unable to cum because a vibrating cock ring was restricting his orgasm, keeping him hard but unable to climax, sending thundering pleasure through him and into you. He watched helplessly as you gripped his hair, hissing sharply as another wave of pleasure overtook you, closing your eyes to savor it, savor his swollen cock twitching inside you as he felt the intense massage of your pussy walls closing around him, throbbing around the head and driving him insane, moaning pathetically because he couldn’t follow suit no matter how desperate he was.

Jungkook didn’t ask if you were done.

He just kept going because you told him he couldn’t cum until you were done.

And you didn’t say you were done.

You stared into those brown orbs, hazy with lust and full of conviction to be good for you.

Desperate to be the best and the only one, not knowing there was no one else because no one else wanted you like the way Jeon Jungkook wanted you.

“Pull out.”

“B-But…”

“You heard me,” you exhaled, throbs of pleasure still trembling through you. Your hands slid down, cupping his chin, nails digging into his sweaty cheeks. “Obey.”

With a pained whine, Jungkook obeyed, pulling out of you, his cock covered in your juices, wearing a condom and the black cock ring. You reached over with one hand to press the button on the remote to turn in off.

“Take it all off. Let me see your cock.”

He reached down and slowly pulled the cock ring off, taking the condom with it, whimpering at the sensitivity, his tone hitting a lovely pitched groan as the silicone squeezed the base of the head. His whole body was shaking as it fell from his hands, the veins on his length standing out, head purple-red and angry, white pre-cum slowly beading at the tip, and his face, looking down at you, waiting for your next move.

Cock waiting to be used.

You tapped your chest.

“Cum on my tits.”

“B-But–”

You cut him off.

“You’re going to cum on my tits and then you’re going to lick it off while I watch.”

He listened.

Jungkook straddled your waist with his thighs, muscular and defined, right hand wrapping around his cock, sweat making the tattoos on his forearm and shoulder glow in the low light, smelling like sex and musk, his core tightening as he touched his overstimulated length, using the lube of the condom and his own pre-cum to add to the pleasure as he began to stroke himself, moaning as you lifted your hands and cupped your breasts, pushing them together, his eyes on the curve of your cleavage and points of your hard nipples sticking out, and then your face, an indifferent look with a cocked eyebrow, taunting him, unimpressed by his timid grip on his cock, so he squeezed harder, tighter, embarrassing cries falling from his mouth, living for the smirk that slowly began to form on your lips.

It empowered him somehow, that smirk, the little inkling of satisfaction that Jungkook wanted, needed, craved, knowing he was doing well, being good, furiously pumping his aching cock over your pressed-together tits and he couldn’t last, couldn’t help it, too overstimulated and too turned on, too in love with this to prevent himself from tipping over with a hot gasp, spilling streams of sticky white lines over your breasts, spreading them everywhere, making a huge mess because he wanted a huge mess to clean up, shoving the head into your cleavage and shuddering at the sensation of warmth to his scorching heat, able to feel the pulse of the engorged tip dripping out what was left, shivers up and down his spine, the words falling from his mouth that he never stopped saying even though you never acknowledged them.

“I... l-love you…”

He stayed like that for nearly a full minute, but you didn’t tell him to get off.

His eyes were closed, savoring the feeling.

Slowly, Jungkook gingerly removed himself, lowering his body over yours, tongue sliding out, touching your skin covered in his cum, his taste, mine, no one else’s, him on you, lapping it up, salty and bitter and yet he loved it, loved that you told him to do it, loved that you let him paint your skin with his orgasm and now his saliva. He didn’t care that you never said anything to his I love you, didn’t care that you seemed to pretend he never said it, because he would continue saying it when he was with you, hopeless as it was.

It was the small things that kept him going, sucking his own cum off your nipple and wrapping his lips around it, hearing your soft sigh of pleasure, feeling the tap on his thigh that instructed him to scoot up, the small thing of your hand closing in on his spent cock, sending sparks of pain but also pleasure, moaning into your skin as you massaged his balls with your fingers, knowing that he could take more pressure and roughness because he had just came, the small thing of your thumb rubbing the sensitive slit, his face pressing into your breasts, smearing his cheek with his cum and saliva, sliding across your slick skin because of the intensity of the high it gave him, the pleasure and the pain, his right arm coming up to wrap around you, tattoos cradling your torso.

“I love you…” he whispered to your racing heart under his ear, lost in the rhythm of your heartbeat and the firmness of your touch. Jungkook did not care if you hated him saying it.

He would continue saying it as long as he was with you.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing…?”

“Hmm.”

He placed his hand over the bottom of his phone and smiled at the cute girl that was talking to him at the bar.

“Sorry. I have to take this call. It’s important to me.”

He didn’t hear her response, because he backed away, bowing lightly, pressing his phone back to his ear.

“Ah, never mind, Jungkook.”

“No, no. What is it? Tell me.”

“You’re at a noisy place. It’s Saturday night.”

Jungkook pushed through the people, mumbling his apologies and straining to hear your voice over the thundering bass. “I finished. Well, we finished. We’re only drinking. I can leave at any time. I’ll just text the guys to bring my equipment back for me. Where are you?”

“Forget it.”

He opened the door of the club as the dial tone rang in his ear.

Looked up.

Your hand dropped to your side. You were still in your white dress shirt and navy skirt, dressed exactly like you were when at school minus the blazer. Jungkook’s eyes widened. He was in a torn-up long-sleeve shirt with the right sleeve removed, showing off his tattoos. His black hair was wild and half-wet, and he was wearing tight leather pants.

You clicked your tongue.

“I said forget it,” you repeated hollowly.

You sighed and turned around, skirt swishing in your wake.

“Wait, I’ll come with you–”

“Go back to where you belong, Jungkook.”

His hand closed around your forearm, holding tight.

“I belong with you.”

You stopped walking, silent.

“What is it? Tell me.”

You scowled. “It’s dumb.”

“So am I, remember?” he chuckled, his hand slipping down, squeezing yours. “I’m not very good at school.”

You didn’t say anything for a moment. Cars and people brushed past, but Jungkook was focused onto on your stillness, watching your eyes seemed to be thinking about many things. You hadn’t pulled your hand out of his yet. By now, Jungkook knew that if you didn’t want something, you wouldn’t be shy about telling him right away.

You started walking again. Jungkook was still holding your hand.

“It was just a moment of weakness,” you mumbled under your breath.

“A guy…?”

You didn’t answer.

Jungkook squeezed your hand. “It’s okay,” he murmured tightly. “I understand.”

He did not. He wanted to cry.

Your eyes shot to him, pinning him in place. “You don’t understand, Jeon Jungkook. You understand nothing.” You pulled your hand out of his and Jungkook let go, trying to hold his pain, trying not to breathe because he was preparing himself for the inevitable, the moment you were going to break his heart and, if it was right here and right now, then so be it, because he had said how he felt repeatedly and there was nothing more he could do than that.

He loved you so, so bad.

Jungkook knew he shouldn’t, that it was madness, but he did anyway.

But you surprised him.

Your sharp gaze softened.

“You know what they say about me. You have to know,” you exhaled, shaking your head. “You must know the rumors.”

Good girl gone bad.

Jungkook frowned. “About you and the professor?”

He watched your jaw clench.

“Does it matter?” he asked.

Your eyes shifted, not quite looking at him.

“Whether something did or didn’t happen, what does that have to do with me?”

And now you looked at him, guarded, not letting him know your thoughts.

“You…” He swallowed, trying to press the lump down in his throat. “You’re just using me, right? It doesn’t… doesn’t really matter, because in the end I don’t matter to you anyway… right?”

He did not want to cry and yet he did, because he knew he loved you. It was the small things, the way you never let up on him even in class, the way you picked days that were never the weekend and never before exams, the way you would brush your fingertips on his knuckles before leaving when you thought he was asleep, the way on the last time, the last time you were together, that you pressed your lips to his forehead when you thought he was asleep, running your fingers through his hair.

Jungkook was standing outside this bar and there were people he knew walking past, seeing you and him, but he kept his eyes on you, because the only one that mattered was you.

The one he belonged to was you.

He had decided that when he climbed onto the table that day.

He stuck his hands in his pockets and let out a heavy breath. “If people say things about you, then they say things about you. Whether it’s the truth or not doesn’t change the fact I love you. It doesn’t make me love you less,” Jungkook said, speaking at his usual volume, because there was no reason to whisper the truth. “Even if it’s pointless and crazy, I want to be with you until the day you don’t want to be with me.”

His smiled and blinked back tears.

“Even if that day is today, I will never regret it.”

In this cruel summer, you could have ruined his reputation. You could have told everyone the kind of person he really was and you didn’t. You could have spread embarrassing stories of the things you made him do and you didn’t.

Even if he didn’t matter to you, Jungkook was confident that you weren’t a malicious person.

You rubbed your forehead. “The rumors will come to you.”

Jungkook laughed. “So what? I heard a rumor that I removed two ribs so I could suck my own dick. I admit, I considered doing it after hearing that.”

You scowled, but Jungkook only smiled in return. He could see the tension falling from your face with his comment. You clicked your tongue and tilted your head, as if to say, can’t be helped.

“There’s no other guy,” you muttered. “There’s just you and you’re dumb.”

Jungkook blinked rapidly, confused.

“You say it over and over and make me think about it all the time.” You sighed heavily, running a hand through your hair. “I’m not a good girl. People pushed me away and I stayed there instead of trying to repair the burned bridges. I don’t even think I want to repair them. Who knows what will happen next? I don’t think it would be a good idea to put you through that shit.”

You sucked on the inside of your cheek, looking at him apologetically.

“You’re not the bad boy everyone says you are. You’re a good guy. You should find a good girl.”

Is that what you think? Jungkook chuckled, taking out his hand and rubbing his nose thoughtfully.

“I don’t want a good girl.”

He stepped toward you, lowering his hand and his head so that he was eye level with you.

“I love a bad bitch who can push me around and makes me their toy.”

He tilted his head, small curve on those beautiful lips, tiny mole underneath appearing with every smile.

“Which can only be you, you know.”

Jungkook didn’t try to kiss you. He only wanted to look into your eyes so you knew his conviction.

“I love you.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I’ve heard you say it.”

He nodded. “And I’m going to keep saying it until the day you leave me.”

Silence.

Ah.

Your eyebrow lowered and you gave him an indifferent look.

“Hm. I wonder when that will be, Jungkook.”

You leaned in, but before you kissed him, he heard the whisper against his lips, felt the shape of yours as they brushed against his, words he prepared himself to never hear from you, words that he thought you would never say, and that was fine with him, because you showed it, and that was enough.

He thought.

“I love you.”

And then your lips on his and his tears fell onto your cheeks because Jungkook wanted to cry all this time and he could not stop now, knowing that he was so, so in love with you and you finally, finally said it back to him.

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

1K notes · View notes

hoe-doroki · 4 years ago

Text

steel and lace

minors do not interact

warnings: 18+, anal play, sex toys, voyeuristic fantasy, scratching, creampie

pairing: bakugou x fem!reader

wc: 3.8k

summary: The only one who manages to get Bakugou’s birthday right is you.

a/n: This is my addition to the Bakugou Birthday Bash collab (masterlist). Many thanks to @lady-bakuhoe for helping me flesh out the ideas with this story!! You were integral to this idea, love! And additional thanks to @whats-her-quirk and @therealvalkyrie for beta reading <333

edit: I no longer write x reader but here’s my old masterlist - mobile | desktop

Bakugou never took work off on his birthday.

Never. Why would he? Villains didn’t give a shit that this was the day the old hag had unceremoniously had him evacuated into a hospital room however many years ago. They didn’t give a shit that his friends—who were also heroes who should be fucking working, by the way—wanna come over to his house and surprise him. As though his reconnaissance-trained ears weren’t as fucking fine tuned at hearing idiots on the other side of the door as theirs.

What villains should care about was that he was a year older, wiser, and fucking stronger, and he was going to kick all their asses. That was what he told all his idiot friends every year when they asked him if he was going to take off work.

Every year he regretted it.

The idiots he works with really must not care about hero work, because every year they want to send him out on a field post sugar crash from some store-bought cake with his name on it. Or buy him gifts that he’ll probably toss in the trash on the way home. He’s not being rude; he just doesn’t need junk that he never would have bought himself in the first place.

Everyone is always grinning at him, wishing him a happy birthday—as though he’s any goddamn happier to see their ugly mugs flapping their lips at him—and trying to start stupid-ass conversations. If he doesn’t like small talk normally, why would he want it on his birthday?

And the singing.

If people really wanted to wish him a happy birthday, they’d find a way to do it silently while doing some respectable fucking hero work. Make his day easier.

But no, none of that was what happened. So he should have just stayed home. Let the villains have a fucking field day on April 20th, and he could have his real gift killing them all tomorrow on the 21st.

But, unfortunately, he was a dumbass and had gone to work anyway, like he’d learned nothing from the last many years of antics. And the continued antics had got him a little pissy. And when he was pissed off, his heart rate increased, his breathing grew heavier, and, of course, he sweat.

Well. Guess what happened?

“Bakugou, I am currently paying to treat burns and fractures on three villains. Care to explain?”

Best Jeanist was sitting in his office chair, blinding sunlight streaming in behind him. Late afternoon sun—darker in color but way more resentful towards human eyes, apparently. It was reflecting off of all of the neighboring glass corporate buildings, making Bakugou squint behind his mask.

Bakugou shrugged, petulant as he stood behind his chair instead of sitting in it. “Overkill.”

Best Jeanist nodded. “Did you…lose control?”

“Tch,” Bakugou scoffed. As if he ever lost control. “Villains were weaker than I thought.”

Bakugou felt the stare of that one fucking eye and stood firm. He knew he was looking at a suspension, hopefully just for a day or two. It wasn’t like he’d done anything terrible. Villains got hurt sometimes, just like pros did, and they got their care and then they got their justice. It’s not like Bakugou was violent on purpose. Anymore. And Jeanist sure as hell knew that, so it wouldn’t take Bakugou off the field for more than a slap on the wrist. He probably wouldn’t even be technically suspended. Just chained by the fucking dick to his desk with some paperwork.

“Just…” Bakugou braced for it, narrowing his eyes but keeping his snarl to a minimum. “Just be more careful next time. Shower and go home—see you tomorrow.”

Bakugou’s jaw dropped. He closed it quickly, trying not to look like Dunce Face in front of his boss, but in all that was real and true what? He was just about to say something—he didn’t know what, probably something insubordinate—when Best Jeanist took out his own paperwork and waved him away.

“Happy birthday, Bakugou.”

Oh. So that was it.

Bakugou grit his teeth. Happy fucking birthday indeed.

It was nothing. His brain told him over and over again that it was fucking nothing. He hadn’t been punished, he hadn’t even really done anything wrong; he just hadn’t been squeaky clean up to fucking code. He could still show up for work tomorrow, business as usual. He should be tickled fucking pink.

But he wasn’t. Special treatment for being the birthday boy? What was he? Five years old and given a pass after stealing the chicken nuggets off Deku’s plate? Jesus Christ.

And if he was honest, he was mostly pissed at himself. Sure, he could blame how the weather always seemed to sprint from spring to summer around his birthday every year, strengthening his quirk. He could blame the villains for being weak enough that they had no business even stepping foot in his neighborhood. But losing control of his quirk even a little—and it had been a little—was fucking amateur and he’d have to pencil in some extra time at the gym. Maybe snatch Shitty Hair for some sparring, and, unfortunately, probably nab an extra therapy session and talk about this anger thing again.

At least walking instead of sitting on that stifling, crowded train car was doing him some good. Let him cool off a bit before he got home and you saw that something was wrong. He was nearly entirely relaxed by the time he got to his building’s lobby, even having the grace to nod at the concierge—who didn’t know it was his birthday, thank God—before heading up the elevator.

When he got off on his floor, it suddenly occurred to him that you might have done something truly repulsive, like inviting his friends over. He could imagine Shitty Hair’s shitty fucking hair sticking up from behind your sofa as he tried to hide before leaping up and yelling surprise.

Well, if that was the case, then the surprise was going to be him kicking all his dumb friends out of the apartment with one foot. Ain’t no way he was going to host a party on his birthday.

It turned out his worry was for nothing, though, because when he turned the knob—fully braced to punch out some teeth with his other hand—he was greeted with a totally bare apartment.

Like barren.

For starters, it was perfectly clean. Bakugou kept a tidy house normally, but this was certainly cleaner than he’d left it this morning. But more than that, there was nothing extra lying around. No stupid friends. No presents. No cake or even the smell of one. It was almost disconcerting.

No, it was a relief. A relief because he didn’t want any of that stuff. He’d had the slice of cake at work—and was slightly hangry now to show for it—and wasn’t interested in having another. And even though you’d choose better gifts than the extras at work would, it was nothing he couldn’t buy himself. So no, this was perfect. He was absolutely not disappointed. Maybe a bit confused. But not disappointed.

He took his shoes off and set his things on the small table by the door. Then he wandered into the kitchen, downed some water, and thought about what he might make for dinner. He might have expected that you and he would make dinner together or maybe even that you would have surprised him with something, but he didn’t mind doing it alone. It wasn’t like he’d learned to cook just to find a housewife someday to con into doing it all for him.

He decided to go to the bedroom first to plug in his phone. He was just sliding it out of his pocket when he opened the door, saw you, and stopped short.

You were on the bed—not in bed, but on it—wearing a black zip up with his signature orange x over the chest. You were on your knees with your legs spread wide, looking him dead in the eye with a deadly smirk on your face, painted in bright lipstick.

“New prototype. You like?”

The two of you had met when you were scouted from his parents’ business to design the clothing for his first merchandise line. He’d sworn off dating you from the beginning, because the last thing he wanted was to give the old hag anything to say about, firstly, her being at all responsible for finding him a girlfriend or secondly, the fact that dating a fashion designer would mean he was dating his parents. He’d said fuck that to anyone who would listen.

But you’d gotten his brain from the beginning. Your designs were all sick from the sketch to mock up to the prototypes you always wore for him. Maybe he was a simple man for falling for a girl dressed in his colors, aiming to please him, but fuck it. You were talented, too smart for your own good, and pretty as hell.

So what? Now he had a dream girlfriend and one more reason to fight with his mom. Net positive for sure.

Still, that jacket wasn’t a prototype. That was from his first official line, no doubt, and he’d seen you wear it hundreds of times. He knew from here how much it would smell like detergent and how much like you.

You caught his eyes, raised your brows once, and then pulled the zip on the sweatshirt.

Underneath was nothing but lace and ribbon, contrasting the black and orange of the sweatshirt with moss green outlining your silhouette. The moss green from his gauntlets and his belt was caged around you in the thinnest strips of fabric, scraps of floral barely covering your breasts and pussy. The lingerie was an all-in-one, with the tiny bra connected to the panties by a few ribbons crossing over your belly. Not hiding a damn thing, but showing it off for all its worth.

“Fuck,” Bakugou groaned when the sweatshirt hit the bed, your arms still in the sleeves, but the look underneath now fully revealed to him. He could feel the blood going to his dick, just seeing you on display like that getting him up to half mast in seconds.

“Not a lot of coverage on this version,” you mused, sticking your thumb under a bra strap. “Maybe an edit for the second try?”

Bakugou growled, taking a step forward, but you weren’t done just yet.

“I was also thinking maybe full panties next time,” you said, turning around, sitting on your heels. The sweatshirt hung just below your ass, framing round cheeks that were caged by thin elastic crosses, and that was it. Not so much as a triangle of fabric to speak of. “Maybe write: Property of Dynamight on them? Or is that too much text?”

That was all it took for Bakugou to pounce. One arc of his fist had his shirt thrown with a smack to the floor and then his hands were on your shoulders, spinning you face up as he pushed you flat on the bed.

“You know I don’t like unnecessary words,” he growled.

And then he was kissing you, a hand running up the falke stockings pinned on your thighs as you pulled your arms out of the sweatshirt. One leg came up automatically to wrap around his hip, and Bakugou began rutting against your center, fully hard already. On his second grinding thrust, his pants snagged on the scrap of lace you were wearing. Wetness was already glistening on his trousers and he moved his thumb down to your core, groaning at what he felt.

“Crotchless panties?” he mumbled against your mouth. “You’re making this too easy, sweetheart.”

“Shouldn’t have to work so hard on your birthday,” you mewled.

There was a rumble in Bakugou’s throat, half scoff, half chuckle. “Yeah, remind me of that next year, will you?”

You were soaked already—the swipe of his thumb told you that much. Either you’d gotten really excited when he’d texted you that he was coming home early, or you’d…gotten yourself excited at some point after. Either way, it meant that foreplay could wait for round two.

He pulled his thumb away from your core and pressed it against your lip, smudging what lipstick had survived the kisses down your chin. You were half ruined already. You stuck your tongue out and licked at essence on his thumb before sucking it into your mouth, eyes wide as you looked up at him. Fuck, he could feel himself straining against his pants, grinding circles against your half-bare cunt for a spot of relief.

After you licked him clean, he took his hand back, leaving your mouth open and wanting as he began to fuss with the front of his pants. He caught your smudged lips again, holding your jaw with one hand as he pushed his pants down with the other. He pulled his lower half away from you, kicking off the pants—hadn’t bothered with boxers for the commute home—and let them slide off the edge of the bed.

“Ready?” he asked.

Your smile was big and you bit the tip of your tongue, nodding your head twice. That was all he needed. He grabbed his cock in his fist and slid it through your wetness just once, and then he pushed himself in.

Immediately, he felt the drag of something hard and angled against your lower wall right along his cock, pressing from tip to base as he slid home inside of you.

“Woah,” he groaned. “What the fuck?”

You giggled, the action making your walls flutter against him.

“Got myself a new toy,” you said coyly, wrapping your legs around his hips. “Promise you can get yourself something pretty on my birthday too.”

Bakugou reach a hand around your thigh, feeling the elastic garter pulled taut against the stockings that were rubbing so deliciously against his back and his hips. He grabbed a handful of your ass, and the tips of his fingers felt a rounded edge of warm metal slid just between your ass cheeks.

“You fucking naughty minx.” Bakugou grinned, showing all his teeth, rearing back out of you before thrusting back in, feeling the novel pressure of the toy on the way out and back.

No wonder you had been so wet to begin with. You must have lubed yourself up before putting in that butt plug—which wasn’t small, from what he could feel of it. He could imagine you, one leg up on the sink, ass sticking out as you fingered yourself, mouth dropping open when you inserted the toy. How cold it would have been when it first touched your pert little hole and how you’d gotten it all warm for him as you waited with your little secret for him to get home.

“It’s curved to hit prostates,” you gasped as Bakugou rocked hard, steady thrusts into you. “In case you’re interested.”

The thought, much to Bakugou’s surprise, sent a thrill right through his belly down to his dick. He couldn’t help but slam rapidly into you, making your eyes roll back. Fuck, was that something he wanted? It wasn’t something he’d ever thought about, and he didn’t have the mind right now to ponder it.

“God you feel so big.”

“You feel so tight, sweetheart,” Bakugou grunted, refusing to acknowledge the fresh heat that was on his cheeks after your previous comment. “Squeezing me from all sides.”

The butt plug left it so there was barely enough room in your pussy for his cock to pump in and out. The pressure was hard on one side, making him fucking twitch every time the head of his cock caught against it, leading him to opt for long, deep thrusts in and out of you. It was so good that he didn’t even care if the only present he got for his birthday was a little hunk of stainless steel halfway up your ass. He’d gotten home five minutes ago and already he could feel his balls tightening, threatening to bust a nut.

“Just think of it, Katsuki,” you said, your voice dreamy as he fucked you raw. “All the women wearing this set, thinking of you when they show it off for their partners. All wishing that you were the one fucking them. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, baby? But they’ll never have anything but their husband’s sad cock that they pretend is yours.”

“Fuck,” Bakugou growled, putting a hand on the headboard and nearly splintering it in his grip. You were riling him up and it made him want to press his palm flat against the burnished oak and let off his quirk, send shards flying. His hand was already drenched with more sweat than it should have been, just like with those villains earlier. Goddamn this time of year. He couldn’t help it; his quirk begged for it. He was in dire need of release of some kind, and it wasn’t like he could cum yet. He had to know how your pussy felt when it convulsed around him, ass cheeks tensing and squeezing that toy hard against his cock until he was spurting into you.

Bakugou let off a few crackling pops from his palm, moaning as relief filled him, the tension lessened for a moment. A faint smell of wood smoke spread through the room, slightly embittered by the resin blackening around his hand. One more scorch mark on the bed frame. You groaned underneath him, taken by the sight of Bakugou’s ever-tight control slipping for you. You knew he’d fuck you through the bed until the rest of the frame gave way if he wanted. You’d both be flat on a busted mattress and he’d keep going until he felt you clench around him.

“How’s that sound, Katsu?” you continued, your voice growing higher as Bakugou took his hand off the headboard and pressed four fingers, still sweaty and heated from his quirk, against the lace covering your clit. It was soaked through. “A-Ah, you’d like the idea of a woman home alone, dressed up just for you, fucking herself on the dildo she hides in the back of your closet, screaming out your name and hoping to God that her neighbors don’t hear?”

Bakugou couldn’t do the long, slow thrusts anymore. Your legs had grown tighter around his waist, your calves soft and silken against his ass as he kept his thrusts deep. The butt plug was rubbing against the base of his cock as he pounded into you, his fingers swiping over your clit with little finesse, but speed and steady pressure making up for it.

“But no matter…” you continued, the words coming out in little huffs as you panted with your head thrown back. Bakugou couldn’t resist leaning down and licking a line up the length of your neck, biting your earlobe when he got to the top, “no dildo, no matter how expensive, no matter how long and fat, will be good enough. The whole time…they’ll know they’re missing out. Oh, fuck.”

All of a sudden, your thighs were squeezing tight against his hip bones, arms thrown over his back and finger scratching hot lines that would mark him even more as yours tomorrow. Then you were gasping, walls squeezing and Bakugou fought against your grip to pull out just enough so that the metal toy was rubbing just over the cleft of his head with every convulsion.

He didn’t stand a chance. There was hardly any warning before he was cumming into you, streaks of his seed dribbling out of you. He couldn’t even pump himself through it; you were gripping him so tightly and, more than that, he didn’t want to move. Everything was white hot, so he just waited it out, barely moving save for where his hand was still rubbing over your clit.

Eventually you stopped him, grabbing his wrist just as the grip of your cunt loosened around him. Then you brought his hand, glistening with moisture, up to your mouth, and broadly laved your tongue from the base of his fingers to the tips, looking him dead in the eye. You then brought his hand down to your neck, and allowed him to streak the combined fluids across and down your décolletage.

Fuck—there was no way he was going to work on his birthday next year. He’d let villains overtake the city first.

“They’ll know they’re missing out,” you breathed, and it took Bakugou a second to figure out that you were continuing your voyeuristic fantasy from before, playing it out to the end, “They might even think they understand. But the only one who will truly know, is me.”

You smiled, your eyes and grin both heavy, sleepy, sated.

“Got that fucking right,” Bakugou said, pulling out of you, his cum already dripping down your ass. He eyed it, only catching a glimpse of the glinting metal plug before your legs fell to the bed, spread and limp. He smacked your hip lightly with one hand. “Roll over.”

In no mood to argue, you flipped willingly, ass up, plug still hidden from view. The lingerie was damp in some spots from where your wetness had spilled from your pussy. He leaned his mouth towards one of the strips of elastic stretching against the swell of your ass and bit. You gasped, back arching, and Katsuki smirked as he pulled away.

“A fucking lingerie line?”

A chuckle escaped your throat. “It was supposed to be a joke, but now…”

Katsuki pinched the elastic with his fingers and snapped it, watching the slight jiggle of your cheeks as you jolted. “No.”

“But Katsuki,” you whined.

“Mm,” he amended, as close to ‘maybe’ as you were going to get. You both could always talk about the idea—truly ridiculous idea—later. Katsuki put a hand on one cheek under the strips of lingerie and spread it.

There was the plug, a stainless steel handle. It was thin and shaped like an oblong donut, not like one of those cheap bejeweled things. This one, even just what he could see of it, screamed quality, and, for a moment, Bakugou wondered again what it would be like to wear. If you’d gotten it in, he sure as fuck could. And he did hold a certain anatomical advantage in using it.

He put his thumb and forefinger to the phalange and gave the toy a twist, pressing it just slightly deeper into your hole. You groaned, your voice low and deep in the pillow like when he gave you a back massage. He smirked and kept at it. Seemed this was a birthday gift for him after all.

“Katsu, don’t tease,” you moaned. “Sensitive.”

Bakugou, however, had no mercy. He flipped you over again, pulling a little yelp from you, and then picked you up bridal style, carrying you off the bed.

“Where are we going?” you asked, your voice suddenly much more awake.

“Shower,” he answered simply. He squeezed the meat of your upper thigh. Not quite your ass but close enough for the point to be made. “I’m not done with my present yet.”

#bakugou smut #bakugo smut #bnha smut #mha smut #tw: voyeurism #not/sfw #bakugou birthday bash

799 notes · View notes

binunus · 4 years ago

Text

sex with bin x eunwoo (m)

a/n THIS WHOLE ALBUM??? IS SO GOOD??? LITERALLY WHAT THE FUCK !!!

also im so so sorry that i keep disappearing, every time I think I have a break in school, my professors keep going like sike here’s a new assignment and group presentation 🤡, but I swear I’m still working on all the requests, it’s just a real slow progression this time 😔

but thank you all so much for being really patient with me and my works, i legit wanna cry when I think about how sweet all you loves are ❤️

→ genre: smut

→ tw: threesome, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it lovies) dom!binwoo, brat!reader, light bondage?? anal, eiffel tower, oral (f and m receiving), fingering (f and m receiving), ~choking~ bc it’s me, squirting, v-voyeurism??

→ word count: 3.3k _________________________________

oh good fucking lord

I don’t even know where to start

just the thought of getting dicked down by these two immaculate men??? at the same time??? i would sell my soul

and just binwoo are literally my biases?? im still going back and forth between them (even though I think bin is the top)

alright so how does this little thing even start

this is a non-idol au, lowkey this request is giving me frat boy vibes oops i said it

bin and eunwoo are close, they’re best buds

they have fucked the same guy/girl before, but never at the same time

they just have the same taste in people wink wonk

sidenote: bin and eunwoo as bi kings??? so much power fuck

so you are a mutual friend

you met them both in college and have stayed friends since then

but relationships aren’t for you (not yet at least)

the streets™ are still your companion

yes you have fucked both bin and eunwoo before in college, eunwoo once when you were junior, and bin a couple times throughout senior year

you don’t talk to them often, but if something comes up on your feed or a monumental event happens to any one of you, of course you’d spike up some conversation

so you’re coming back in town for a week or so, visiting old friends and family

and bin hits you up like “hey, I saw that you were in town! we should get some dinner and catch up!”

and you were not about to say no to that, bin was a good part of your college years! it would be nice to hang out with him again

alright you weren’t expecting to get action from this dinner – it popped in your mind, yes, but it wasn’t the ulterior motive

but did you try to dress up a little to impress moon bin?? maybe so

and shit, when he showed up to the restaurant looking like a whole ass man??

like did his biceps look more appetizing than the food you were being served? a little bit

conversation was exchanged very easily, you and bin were always a bit flirty with each other, ever since college, but you both knew it never meant anything beyond sex

and so when he asked if you were dating anyone, you knew this was the invitation, and were you going to accept it?? 100%, you haven’t had sex in a while because of your job

and so you find yourself back in bin’s apartment

bin: hm? I guess eunwoo’s not home from work yet

you: eunwoo? as in cha eunwoo? you guys still live together?

bin: yeah, we like living together, rent was cheaper that way, and this place is equidistant from both of our work places...is that a problem??

you: no, I mean it makes sense, just...what if eunwoo comes back while we’re in the middle of fucking...wouldn’t that be weird?

bin shrugging: you’ve had sex with eunwoo in college too, and it’s not like he hasn’t seen me naked before either. who knows he might even wanna join?

he said that as a joke alright

but as soon as he mentioned it, your eyes dilated a bit

bin noticed immediately and he caged you against the wall, a little smirk playing on his lips

bin: you seem to like that idea, y/n. hm? you wanna get fucked by both me and eunwoo? didn’t know you were into threesomes

your cheeks are flushing, you felt seen: would you feel weird if he joined? you guys are friends and roommates

bin shaking his head: me and eunwoo have talked about it before, and honestly this seems like the perfect opportunity. we’re all friends here.

you being nervous a little bit bc a threesome?? with both bin and eunwoo?? those two 6 foot attractive men??

you tried a threesome before bc you were curious, but it wasn’t the best hookup experience

you: should we...? wait for him??

your cheeks are flushed a little, like how were you supposed to go about this

bin smiles bc you look a bit cute right now being all shy and he just pinches your cheek

bin: you got cuter since we graduated y/n

you: shut the fuck up bin, don’t make me tie you up again

bin smirks and his hand moves from your cheek to fully grasp at your neck, he squeezes your throat as he pushes you so that your back collided with the wall: baby, if anyone’s getting tied up tonight, it’s gonna be you

and god if you weren’t horny before, you definitely are now, especially with the way bin was cutting off your airflow??? your head was spinning in the best kind of way

bin slotting his thigh in between your legs as he just crashes his lips onto yours

and he’s still choking you when he literally shoves his tongue down your throat, you have to grab onto his broad shoulders just to steady yourself

making out with bin is so hot

he picks you up by your ass and you wrap your legs around his waist, you both are still making out as he leads you to the couch

you’re straddling him oh lord have mercy

you in between kisses: why don’t we go to your room? what, is it messy?

you moan as he spanks your ass at the quip: we’re gonna need to do something about that smart mouth of yours baby...and we’re here to give eunwoo a little show when he comes home. Why, you need a bed? pillow princess? last time I remember, you were fine getting fucked in the maintenance room.

you two go back to kissing, bin’s hands were gripping at your waist now, lifting up the bottom of your shirt so that you could take it off

never in your life have you been so happy to wear a skirt, you could feel the outline of his bulge against your underwear, the fabric of his jeans giving you just enough friction

and when you start grinding on him, he grunts into your mouth and bites on your lower lip

and fuck when bin removes his shirt? he was always built in college but the definition of his muscles now?? you were literally drooling

you: holy shit bin, isn’t your job in business? where do you find the time to workout?

he’s kissing your neck now: you can always find time to workout y/n, just make it part of your daily routine

exercise evangelist moonbin™

you’re tilting your head to the side giving him more access, bin’s sucking hickeys into your neck and it just feels so good

your neck’s a sensitive spot, if you couldn’t tell

and bin knows that so he’s paying extra attention to your neck, you don’t even notice when his hands go around your torso to unclasp your bra

the two of you are literally just topless on his couch, making out and feeling each other up, when lo and behold, eunwoo comes home

his eyes go wide and he immediately covers his face: jesus christ bin, go to your fucking room

bin starts laughing, you know his laugh where his eyes literally crinkle and he smiles so wide and his laugh increases in pitch, that one

you can’t help but laugh too, you thought you would be embarrassed, but this is a bit funny

you: you don’t have to cover your eyes eunwoo, it’s not like you haven’t seen any of this before

eunwoo: oh shit, hey y/n, didn’t know you were coming over?? well...uh if you guys aren’t gonna go to bin’s room, I’m going to mine and just let me know when you’re done

bin: you sure you wanna go to your room? y/n wants you to join us

eunwoo’s blushing a little bit (he’s not covering his face anymore) when you two meet eyes: are you sure y/n?

you get a bit shy again bc shit, eunwoo in a suit coming from work with silver-blue hair? sexy

you: yeah...if you want to, me and bin are cool with it.

bin’s back to kissing your neck as you basically watch eunwoo remove his jacket and tie

and oof him unbuttoning his dress shirt? y’all he’s a tease, they both are

bin: let’s take this back to my room

eunwoo: we can go to mine, it’s cleaner and my bed’s bigger

you: i knew it

bin bites your shoulder and you let out a mix between a yelp of pain and a moan

bin: eunwoo get your ropes, we need to teach y/n a lesson on being bratty

eunwoo chuckling as he leads the way to his bedroom

bin already made himself comfortable on eunwoo’s bed, and you’re standing to the side making conversation as eunwoo looks through his closet for the ropes lol

as soon as eunwoo finds it, there’s a dark change in his eyes and he smirks at you: why don’t you join binnie on the bed, y/n?

your stomach turns in excitement, eunwoo tosses the ropes to bin and he puts a hand on your back as he leads you to his bed, and before you could get on by yourself, eunwoo just tugs your skirt down making you gasp

you lie down and bin grins as he binds your wrists to eunwoo’s headboard, usually you would put up a little fight when you get tied up, but you just stayed silent, you were anticipating what would happen next

bin: you’re being oddly obedient y/n

you’re a brat okay, but in the past when you and bin used to hook up, your brattiness increased by like 100%, like you’re extra bratty with bin for some reason

~it is what it is~

maybe it’s because eunwoo’s here too that your bratty side has suppressed a bit

bin and eunwoo both start removing all their clothes and you’re like shit eunwoo’s built too

bin settles in between your legs and eunwoo leans in and starts kissing you

and mmm eunwoo’s good at making out like he legit be taking your breath away and then you start feeling bin take off your soaked panties and he just goes right in

you literally moan into eunwoo’s mouth and your hands are straining against the ropes bc you just want to hold onto something !!

eunwoo feeling up your breasts and tweaking your nipples while bin is sucking on your clit and probing his tongue in and out your entrance??? euphoric

you’re literally feeling so many sensations right now and it’s just foreplay woo

and then the edging starts

bin??? hella good at eating out, oof what that mouth do

and with the added stimulation from eunwoo kissing your neck and pulling at your nips, you’re reaching your orgasm faster than anticipated

and suddenly they’re both off you

you: what the fuck?

you’re like gasping and glaring at the both of them and they just give you smug looks

bin: I don’t know if you deserve to cum just yet, y/n. right, eunwoo?

eunwoo chuckling as he nods and flicks at your nipple: binnie told me that you like talking back, hmmm that won’t work with both of us here y/n

your submissiveness kicking in and you’re whining: i won’t talk back, I promise

bin: I don’t know if I believe you y/n

and then they switch places and now bin’s making out with you again and eunwoo’s face to face with your cunt and he just shoves two fingers in your entrance and starts scissoring you

and right as you’re about to cum, they pull away again

this goes on at least two more times, you’re literally so frustrated tears are pooling in your eyes and you’re whining hard as hell, your wrists already aching from the ropes

eunwoo: do you want us to untie you, y/n?

you nodding as you’re sniffling back the tears

aww they feel bad so eunwoo unties the ropes and he’s like gently rubbing at your wrists

bin wiping your tears away as he pinches at your cheek again

bin: you okay, y/n?

you: I’m so close, please

bin: alright baby, who do you want first, hm?

you honestly didn’t know, you had no preference, you just wanted to get railed

eunwoo: why not both?

your eyes go wide a little bit, your ass isn’t even prepped

bin sensing your hesitation and he just puts a hand on your waist: if you don’t want to--

you: no, i want to...I’m just...my ass isn’t ready...

eunwoo laughing cutely as he pats your thigh: we’ll prep you baby, don’t worry

you start by going on all fours, bin enters you first from behind and the groan he lets out bc you’re just so tight wow

he literally has to restrain himself from just ramming into you, your walls just fit so snugly around him, his nails were digging into the skin of your waist

you open your mouth in a moan at the stretch and in that moment, eunwoo shoves his cock down your throat you literally gag

for reference, they’re both above average, no surprise there, I’d say both around 8 in., but bin’s girthier for sure

and so bin’s fucking your cunt while eunwoo’s fucking your mouth

simultaneously, eunwoo tugs at your hair and bin sneaks a finger down to gather some juices from your pussy before probing at your asshole

bin’s prepping you real well mmmmm

he’s literally fingering your ass while he’s pounding into you, the tip of his cock hitting so deep in your cervix

on the other hand you’re so focused on sucking eunwoo off, you take him as deep in your throat as you could, letting your jaw slack as he just thrusted in your mouth

and also the vibrations of your moans around his cock every time bin hits deep in you???

eunwoo swears he almost busts a nut when your hands reach up to play with his balls

he’s panting as he pulls your mouth off his cock: I need to be inside you before I cum

and then he’s lying down on his back and you start to ride eunwoo, and then bin lines his cock up at your other hole and you start to tense

eunwoo bringing you into a kiss to try and distract you from the pain your asshole’s about to feel

and you start hissing as bin starts to push in, you’re clenching so hard around eunwoo and tugging tightly at the ends of his hair

eunwoo starts making circles on your clit so that you could relax a bit to make it easier for bin to enter your back hole

and then the three of you just stay still for a bit when bin finally bottoms out, you’re still trying to get used to feeling stuffed full, you haven’t been fucked in so long and now you’re getting railed by two cocks??

the two of them are both saying sweet things to calm you down and distract you from the pain

and it’s cute, you know from your respective past hookup experiences with them that they’re really good at sensing discomfort or pain and would always tend to your needs

oof baby but as soon as you give the okay for both of them to move

it’s like you’re taken to another dimension holy shit

they both hit so deep, you swear to god their cocks have to be touching or something, or maybe at least reaching your intestines

when people say rearrange your guts, it definitely must have been this

you’re trying to set a pace on top of eunwoo, but bin thrusting from behind literally makes your knees go weak until eunwoo just lifts his hips and takes over, matching bin’s speed

and imagine this: bin pulling your hair, making your head tilt back and eunwoo just reaches up and covers your neck with his hand before he squeezes at your throat

your eyes are literally rolling into the back of your head, you have never felt this good ever in your life

your head’s spinning again, and you know all three of you are reaching the tipping point pretty soon, your stomach is churning, making you clench hard around both eunwoo and bin

eunwoo biting his lip as he groans, his grip tightening just a bit more around your neck

bin’s still yanking your hair back and he starts spanking your ass, he’s moaning as well

you literally scream, throat feeling raw, as you cum, you have never orgasmed so hard before, your body was convulsing around both of them and you just collapse on top of eunwoo

you’re vision literally sees white and your ears are ringing as they both cum in you

you black out for a little bit

eunwoo and bin: o_o holy fuck

the two of them start panicking like...did they just fuck you dead?? put you in a coma??

okay but just imagine eunwoo and bin bickering with each other about what to do like

bin: do we call 119???

eunwoo: what do we say? we fucked our friend into a coma?

it’s okay because you regain consciousness soon enough and both boys let out the biggest sigh of relief

you: ...what happened?

eunwoo: you passed out for a bit there y/n

you start giggling, much to their surprise, and you try to sit up

bin: ...are you okay y/n?

you: yeah, I can’t believe I blacked out because you guys fucked me so well, that’s pretty hot not gonna lie

eunwoo goes into the kitchen real quick to get you some water and bin sits down next to you

you thank eunwoo when he hands you the glass and he sits across from you and bin

the two roommates exchange a look and just high-five each other

you roll your eyes as they just laugh at each other...ugh boys

bin teasing you: I’ve never seen you so submissive y/n

eunwoo joining in: yeah, didn’t know you could squirt as well

you almost spit out the water: i-huh? no way

eunwoo: yeah, my stomach was soaked, I wiped it off when you were out

your face flushes, you’ve never squirted before

bin: don’t be embarrassed! it was hot, y/n, really

the three of you then just jump into a casual conversation about college, keep in mind you’re all still naked

and then you feel the cum just like in both your holes and it’s just uncomfortably sticky

you: uh...do you guys mind if I shower? my pussy feels gross right now

bin, with a glint in his eyes: I can clean that up for you, baby

before you know it, bin’s eating you out again -- to be more specific, he’s literally licking the mixture of yours and eunwoo’s cum from your cunt

that’s sexy...

you make eye contact with eunwoo and he’s just smirking as he sits back and watches you two, no intention on joining yet

alright but you had no idea if you could take another round right now, the first one literally made you pass out

so after bin makes you cum again, you tap out for the night

the three of you shower -- separately -- and then regroup in the living room to just chat and chill

the two insist you sleep over for the night since it’s past midnight by now

were there also hints of a round two in the morning?? maybe

you sleep in one of eunwoo’s shirts, but end up sleeping next to bin bc he’s whiny and likes cuddling

you three fuck again in the morning oops until eunwoo had to leave for work

then you and bin fuck again afterwards

happy threesome

happy comeback :)

4-5-21

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soniaxdixon · 4 years ago

Text

The New World; Series Pt 2

Okay so this is my first time writing a fic and obviously will be my first series but I’ve just rewatched TWD for like the 17th time and my obsession with Daryl has reached new levels. I hope that it isn’t too shit and that you guys actually read/like it. Thank you in advance for baring with my average writing but I mean, how else will I learn? Anyway, enjoy!

Sonia x

Set pre to early season 1, back story for when the world ended.

Part 2 of ??

Summary: Y/N Grimes is Rick’s younger hot headed sister. When Rick gets shot and falls into a coma, Y/N’s world ends. Y/N Finds herself at a quarry near Atlanta with her nephew carl, sister in law Lori and her best friend Glenn where she meets her new family including the equally hot headed redneck Daryl Dixon. Over time Y/N and Daryl begin to form a friendship, finally allowing one another to open up to someone and maybe finding someone they can actually love.

Warnings! Slowish burn but the feels are there from the start, swearing, A little angst.

Words; 1774

This part focuses more on Season 1 Episode 3 ‘Tell it to the frogs’ We have a little reunion and start to explore Daryl and y/n’s relationship a bit more. - Sorry in advance if there are any errors, I didn’t really edit it properly

Like every morning, you were woken up by the sounds of your friends talking outside and the morning light forcing your eyes open. You rose, got dressed and stepped out of your tent your heart jumping when a big figure grabbed your shoulder suddenly, without warning.

“Jesus fucking christ, Daryl. A little heads up that you’re behind me next time? Shit.”

The ends of his lips curled into a small smile that made your stomach flip with butterflies. The power this man had over you already was immense. “M’ goin’ huntin’, shouldn’t be too long. Let Merle know if he gets back.” And with that, he was gone, not even giving you a chance to respond, his crossbow over his shoulder, hastily making his way into the woods. You couldn’t help but stare until his figure finally disappeared among the trees.

You looked over and saw Carl getting his haircut by Lori. He locked eyes with you and mumbled a plea for help. You shook your head and laughed at his suffering face. Catching on to the end of their conversation, you sat down next to Shane who was cleaning his gun.

“Frogs, plural”

“Why do we need ‘Frogs, plural?’” Carl questioned

You zoned out for a second, looking off in the direction Daryl had headed. Your mind suddenly racing. What happens if he comes across a walker? What happens if he comes across lots of walkers. Did he have a gun or just his crossbow? Why did he go alone?

“What do you think, Y/N?” Shane’s voice broke you from your silent panic.

You just stared at him for a second and he read your confusion, he knew you had a habit of zoning out. “Cajun style kermit legs, what do you think?”

“Oh, gross. No thanks.” Your face contorted with the thought of eating frog legs cooked by Shane. “You can keep your frog legs, I’d rather eat dirt.”

Your conversation was halted by the sudden sound of a car alarm.

“What the fuck?” You questioned, your eyes focusing on Shane.

“Talk to me, Dale?” Shane leapt from his seat and made his way over to the RV

You stood next to Shane, your arms crossed protectively across your chest.

The car sped up the hill suddenly screeching to a halt, Glenn climbing out of the drivers seat instantly being hounded by questions and yelling.

“My sister, is she okay?” Amy asked glenn over and over.

“Yes, she’s fine, everybody is. Merle not so much.”

Your stomach dropped quickly at the thought of Merle not being okay. What would you tell Daryl?

You turned and shuffled quickly towards your tent, climbing inside and finding your water bottle. You sat down for a few minutes, taking steady drinks. Poor Daryl you thought to yourself. You knew what it was like to lose a brother. You were drawn from your thoughts by the sound of a truck pulling up. Exiting your tent again you made your way over to Lori and Carl, placing your hands on the boys shoulders.

Everyone was reuniting and for a second, everyone was happy. You felt Carl’s shoulders begin to shake as he started sobbing. Lori knelt down and comforted him as he cried again for his dad.

“How’d y’all get out of there anyway?” Shane asked

“New guy, he got us out”

“Hey helicopter boy, come say hello. Guy’s a cop, just like you.”

You looked up at Morales’s words and felt your knees turn in. Tears filled your eyes as he stood there in front of you.

“Holy shit” was all that came out of your mouth before you saw carl running past you

“Dad!”

You’ve never seen the boy run so fast as Rick pulled him to the ground in a hug. Picking him up and walking to Lori. Your heart swelling with love as he let go of them and his eyes found you.

“Oh my God.” He uttered as he grabbed you and you finally allowed your knees to drop. He held you up as he hugged you, tighter than you have ever hugged before. You had him back. The only thing that could keep you calm. Your big brother was alive.

That night you sat around a fire and listened to Rick talk about his experience. Waking up in the hospital only to find the world had fallen apart. They spoke about Merle, how he was handcuffed to a roof in Atlanta, how T-Dogg had dropped the key, how they would have to tell Daryl.

You couldn’t think about it anymore, you pushed yourself off he ground and leaned down, placing a kiss on Carl’s forehead and hugging your brother one more time for the day.

You walked over to your tent and went to sleep for the night. As usual, the only thing on your mind was Daryl but tonight, it wasn’t the usual thoughts of what it would be like if you were together. Tonight they were thoughts flooded with worry.

————

You scrambled for your clothes in the morning, pulling on some blue jeans and a black tee, pushing your way out of your tent and over to your group. The sudden sound of screaming had you running before you could even register what it was, pulling your knife from its sheath you sprinted towards the sound.

“Carl?” You yelled, Lori’s voice followed yours with the same question as she and rick ran behind you.

Lori grabbed him, “Nothing bit you, nothing scratched you?”

You ran with rick and the others to the source of the screaming. A lone walker feasting on a big deer. A deer with bolts in its side. The men began to beat the walker, forcing it to the ground before Dale cut its head off.

Sudden rustling drew you from your thoughts as you watched the bush intently.

“Son of a bitch, that’s my deer” the southern drawl all too familiar. “Look at it all gnawed on by this, filthy, disease bearin’, motherless, poxy bastard.”

You followed him back into the camp as he yelled out for his brother, “Merle! Get your ugly ass out here, got us some squirrels”

“Daryl, slow up a bit, I need to talk to you” with the words that Shane said, your stomach began to churn.

“Bout what?”

“Bout Merle, there was a problem in Atlanta.”

“He dead?” Daryl asked, you could see the panic etching his face slowly.

“Not sure.” Shane answered

“He either is or he ain’t” obvious venom dripped from his words as he stared at Shane, waiting for his next answer.

Your eyes turned to Rick as he stepped in suddenly, “no easy way to say this so I’ll just say it.”

“Who the hell are you?”

“Rick Grimes”

“Rick Grimes” Daryl mocked “You got something you wanna tell me?”

“Your brother was a danger to us all so I handcuffed him on a roof, hooked to a piece of metal”

Before you knew it, things escalated. Daryl threw the squirrels and pulled out a knife.

Within seconds the knife was on the floor and Shane had daryl in a choke hold. You couldn’t control yourself and you threw yourself at Shane, hitting his back, “Let go of him” You were grabbing at his shirt trying to pull him off when Glenn grabbed your arms as you struggled against him.

“Fucking let him go Shane or I’ll cut your fucking hands off.” At this point Glenn was forcing his hand over your mouth to shut you up and you finally complied when Shane let Daryl out of the choke hold.

You stormed off to your tent so you wouldn’t react again. Thoughts raced through your head. Why the hell did you do that, what on earth possessed you? You and Daryl had hardly spoken and yet you were suddenly threatening one of your closest friends just so he would let him go. Get your head on straight Y/N, Daryl’s gonna think you’re a crazy bitch now.

About 30 minutes later, Rick headed over to your tent to check on you, you had calmed down at this point but you were still pissed at Shane. “I’m taking, Daryl, Glenn and T-Dogg back into Atlanta to get Merle.”

“Okay, I’ll come.”

“No, I want you to stay here.”

You snapped “What the hell is with everyone thinking they have say in where I go.”

“I want you here in case something happens, You’ve taken care of Lori and Carl since the start and I need to know you will protect them while I’m gone.”

Your eyes softened as you shot him an apologetic look. “Where’s Daryl?”

“He’s in his tent, packing his bag.”

You squeezed ricks shoulder and found yourself walking to the edge of your camp, to Daryl’s tent.

“Hey, are you okay? I’m sorry about your brother.”

“Why the hell would ya even care? Just leave me be” He was obviously hurt and his tone stung you.

“Geez okay, sorry for checking on you, prick.” You mumbled the last word walking away before his hand grabbed your shoulder, sending chills down your back as he quickly pulled away.

“M’ sorry. Thanks for checking.”

You just looked at him but your face eased out of the scowl you had before hand.

“Why’d ya jump on Shane like that before? I thought that asshole was your friend.”

“Yeah kinda. We grew up together, he Rick and I. He’s just kinda always been a part of my life ya know. When I thought I lost Rick, he became an even bigger part and I think seeing him dismiss your brother like he was nothing riled me up because I know what its like to lose a brother. I was just lucky enough that mine came back somehow.”

Daryl never broke eye contact with you, watching as slight tears stung your eyes when you thought about losing Rick. “You’re gonna find him. He’ll be fine and you’ll bring him back.” He just continued to look at you as his mind raced with thoughts. This was the longest that you two had spoken, you were actually telling him something about yourself and something in his chest felt like it was on fire. You reached out and he flinched slightly, you put your hand carefully on his shoulder. “He’ll be okay Daryl, You’ll be okay.” You gently squeezed as you turned around to head back towards your tent.

You heard him barely whisper “Thanks.”

“Come back in one piece please.” You whispered back, just loud enough that he could hear you and the fire in his chest grew.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon x grimes reader #you x daryl dixon #y/n grimes x daryl dixon #y/n x daryl #y/n x daryl dixon #twd #twd fic #twd series #twd fic series #the walking dead #the walking dead fic

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scottfuckingreed · 4 years ago

Text

So wrong, It’s right - Montgomery De La Cruz

NOT REQUESTED

Warnings!: smutty and cute (exactly how I imagine Monty actually)

Can you admire something you’re a little afraid of? Is that possible or does that just contradict the entire point? Being the twin sister of Scott Reed means you’re in the jock group a lot. I’m around people like Bryce Walker and Montgomery De La Cruz all the time. I’m afraid of the power boys - men - like that have. And yet, I’m totally struck by them. Doodling around my notepad, I fade back into the classroom scene. Mrs Bradley goes on about how we need to be there for each other, and how to tell if our ‘friends’ are actually not okay even if they say they are. It’s pointless really, because it’s clear no one cares. It’s unfortunate. “Are you taking notes?” A whisper falls into my ear. I turn around to see an ‘innocent’ smile form on Monty’s face. “Why would I be taking notes?” I whisper back with a slight laugh. I’m not sure if some of these boys think playing dumb is cute, or they’re actually just stupid; probably both. “You just look like you’re taking notes,” he shrugs defensively and turns back to his area. I continue squiggling on my page until I feel a breath on my neck. My hairs stand instantly in an unknown way, sending shivers down my spine and a strange feeling in my stomach. “So what are you doing?” He whispers again. Rolling my eyes, I turn to him once again. “I’m decorating my page.” “You’re decorating your- what? Thats fucking stupid.” Sometimes I don’t get Monty’s responses. I know Monty is like that all the time. Rude? But why? The other’s are like it too. I just don’t know who’s genuinely a prick most of the time.

I wander over to Zach, who’s sat with Alex and he’s sat with Clay and those people. I don’t actually have a massive problem with Clay. I think he’s sweet. “Hey!” I smile when I get there. The response from Clay is a slight frown. Jess’ is a VERY small smile. Barely noticeable. “What do you want?” Clay mutters just loud enough for me to hear. “Clay-“ Jess laughs awkwardly. All I can do is smile. I get it. “Okay, I deserve that I guess.” I may have been involved in some ‘teasing’ back in the day when it comes to Clay. But that’s in the past. “I was just seeing if you were coming, Zach?” I shuffle my books that lay in my arms. “Nah I don’t think so, but you can join us if you want,” I love Zach. He’s a bit of an idiot a lot of the time, but his heart’s in the right place. Clay snaps his head very quickly at those words. “I don’t think I’m wanted here, but thanks anyway. I’ll see you guys around.” Walking away, I see Monty waiting for me. “Zachy staying with the pussies?” I roll my eyes and hit him on the arm. “Shut up, that’s not cute.” He chuckles and we walk to lunch.

We meet up with Scott, Charlie, Bryce and Marcus. “Where’s Zach?” Is the first thing Bryce, or anyone, says as we approach. “He’s with Clay and the other dipshits,” Monty laughs and sounds all cool and stuff. All I can do is roll my eyes. What do guys like Monty get from being nasty a lot of the time? “I think Y/N’s been flirting with me,” he adds, throwing his arm around my shoulder and pulling me in close. I imagine he thinks I like being this close to him. I grab his finger and drop his arm away. “Your ego is fucking massive,” I grunt with a smile. I take my water bottle out of my bag. “Almost as big as my dick,” I almost spit my water back out. Bad timing to take a drink. I get a poke on my shoulder, and that’s what does it for Scott. “Please don’t flirt with my sister in front of me!” He pushes Monty playfully on the shoulders. When I see Monty’s eyebrows raise, I know there’s something going on in his head. And his brain like never works. “Oh okay, I’ll just flirt with her when you’re not around then!” And a play fight erupts between all of them. “Alright kids!” Bryce pushes his foot against Monty, which makes both boys tumble to the ground. I swear the boys at the school are children.

Most of the guy’s had last period free - so they’d already gone home - leaving me to get home on my own. I finally leave the hell hole and bump into Monty. “Montgomery!” I smile, nudging my elbow into him. “Y/N, what do you want?” He chuckles. It sounds awkward or nervous, but that’s not Monty. Like, at all. “I was thinking... you could give me a lift home?” I smile innocently. He begins to walk, which his steps are bigger than mine, so I slightly jog to catch up. “Why would I do that?” His eyes scan me up and down. “Because you love me?” I stick my bottom lip out. The smile on his face only grows. He pretty much shakes his head until we reach his beautiful Jeep. I’m actually in love with his car. He doesnt reply. Instead he just stared at me with that grin. “Because I’m really fun to be around?” I ask again. Same response; he shakes his head. “Because I’m annoying and it’ll shut me up?” He raises his eyebrows. “Okay,” he says simply. All I can do is smile when I get into his car. “You’re so chirpy,” he laughs and starts the engine. “I know you love me,” once again, he shakes his head. “You wish.”

“Do you like what you see?” He smirks at me. I roll my eyes in a rush. “I’m not even looking at you,” I smile and turn my head out the window. I’ve actually watched every tap his fingers did against the steering wheel. I’d seen him nod along to whatever shit was on the radio. Not staring, but in the corner of my eye. Which I think is possibly worse. “I know you are, but it’s okay,” my eyes look back towards him. “I’m gonna have to tell Scotty that his little sister’s checking his best friend out,” I shake my head with a laugh. “We’re literally twins,” is all I can argue.

Monty turns in to the driveway to my house. “Thanks for that, Cruz-y,” he smiles very slightly at my words. Like, VERY slightly. “I guess it’s okay, but you definitely owe me,” I smile back at him and nod. “Of course, you can’t do anything to just ‘be nice’ can you?” I joke, chuckling as I open the door and hop out of his car. “Wait, Y/N,” he shouts out the open window. I watch as the boy gets out his car with something in his hand. “You almost left your phone,” he drops it in my hand. I tap it on his shoulder, and I automatically feel guilty for some reason. I haven’t done anything wrong, or anything I wouldn’t usually do. But I feel guilty. “Did you just, do something nice? For me?!” I drop my jaw with a gleaming smile. “I’m just a nice person,” he shrugs. “Well, I appreciate it,” I feel like I stand waiting for something that’s never gonna happen. I gazed towards the boy for what seems like ages. There was nothing to wait for. It was just awkward blank air. To break the silence, I turn and walk into my house. I’m not sure what else I was meant to do. I run up the stairs, excited to be home, and get out of my ‘nice’ clothes. Sweats and a bralette. It’s time to relax.

I set myself up. Pencils, my sketch pad, and myself laid on my stomach on my bed. Music on. Sometimes I draw from a picture, sometimes from my head, but most of the time it’s just doodles. Today it’s from my head. Just head with eyes and a face and everything. And time flies when you’re invested in something. “Wow,” is all I hear. I jump too much, shooting my head upwards and seeing Montgomery looking over at my book. “Holy shit!” My hand immediately goes over my pounding chest. That was not okay! “You could’ve knocked!” I shout, sitting myself up. “I did, you were just concentrating,” he shrugs and starts looking around my room. He picks up an ornament. I stand up, walking over to him and taking it off of him. It’s only when I get up that I remember what I’m wearing. I feel exposed. His eyes look my body up and down. And suddenly he’s in a rush. “Anyway, I just came to scare you,” and he leaves. Strange.

- A few days later -

A tight black dress. It fits like a glove around my hips, hugging my thighs nicely. This is an outfit that makes me feel like a bad bitch. “I know you’ve worn that dress just to piss me off,” Scott shakes his head as we drive to Bryce’s. Another stupid house party. Although I hate them, I find myself going to every one; enjoying myself too. “I don’t do it to piss you off Scott,” I laugh. He raises his eyebrows immediately. “I know exactly who you dress like that for,” which makes me heat up. Luckily my foundation hides the redness in my cheeks. I don’t even glance his way. I can’t. “Why is everything always about Monty?” It stresses me out that everything is about that boy. “Can’t I just dress up for myself?” I add, rather snappily. Here we are. Bryce pretty much has a car park in front of his fucking house. He might as well have ‘I’m a rich prick’ tattooed on his forehead. “You can, Y/N,” and he gets out the car. You can hear everything from inside the car, let alone walking towards the party itself. Pretty sure I felt the vibrations from the street over. “But did I mention Monty?” Our eyes lock. I swear he said his name? Shit.

Shit music, a load of half naked girls, and too many Varsity jackets? We must be at a Bryce Walker party. I don’t know half of these people here. But I do know Zach! I can’t rush over to him at the drinks table fast enough. “Hey!” I smile. “Y/N, dragged along again?” He asked, handing me a cup. The burning stench of whatever-the-fuck shoots through my nose with just one small sniff. “Jesus Christ, what’s in this?” An adorable smile spreads across his face. He’s so pure I swear. “It’s actually a shorter list if you ask what’s not in it,” he shrugs. I raise my eyebrows, wondering if the boy is smart enough to flirt with me. I leave it at silence, bringing the cup up to my lips. “Everything,” I look back his way. He leans himself down and gets close to my ear. The warmth of his breath does nothing to my body. “I put everything in it. Enjoy!” Is what he finishes with before walking away dancing.

I find myself dancing with everybody and nobody. The fun thing about a party is you don’t need to know anybody. Especially if there’s a lot of people, and you’re drunk. And since there’s everything in my cup, it’s safe to say that I’m a little gone after half of it. “Ah!” I shout and point, seeing a familiar boy across the room. “Where have you been?!” I shout ask. I think I ran over to him. Whatever I did, it happened very quickly. “Around,” he shrugs. And I giggle. What was funny, you ask? Absolutely nothing. But I’m tipsy and a little horny. “Are you drunk?” He laughs, taking my cup and sniffing it. His eyebrows raise, before he even takes a sip, let alone after. “It’s a Zachy special-” “Where’s your brother?” I hardly finish my sentence before he starts shouting his words over the loud music. “I don’t know,” my slightly drunken state is offended by his question. Maybe I’m just annoyed at myself, maybe it’s the fact that everything is about my brother, but it’s more than likely the fact that I wanna be flirted with. And he’s definitely not flirting with me. Rolling my eyes, I just turn and walk as far away as I can before stumbling and embarrassing myself completely. Completely into the arms of Montgomery De La Cruz. “Careful,” the slight giggle shocks me. It was..? Cute..? “Maybe you should sit down for a while,” I realise that I’m still in his arms, which is definitely the last place I should be, so I stand up ‘straight’. As straight and as still as I can be anyway. “It’s okay, I wanna dance!” Smiling massively towards him, I’m shocked when he actually reciprocates the happy look. He never smiles back at me. It must be pity. “You can dance sat down, I’ll come with you.”

I didn’t think I’d be spending a part of my night looking at the stars with Monty, but here we are. Well I’m sat on a sun bed, and he’s stood. The fresh air does a mix of sending the alcohol to my head, and sobering me up a little. Which makes no sense; I know. I’m just drunk. “Fuck, did I drop my drink?” Confusion hits me like a brick. So much so that I start patting my hips at the pockets I don’t have. Which also makes no fucking sense. “I took it off you- why would the cup be in your pocket?” He laughs, taking a seat on the concrete next to my lounger. “That’s cute,” as soon as the words fall out, my hand covers my mouth. “Shit, I won’t hear the end of that. Will I?” His lips press together, shaking his head slowly. “At least you’be admitted you find me cute,” I don’t even have the effort to argue. So I lay myself down.

Before I open my eyes, my head starts pounding. Unfortunately I remember quite a bit, if not all of last night. It’s effort to wake up. So I lay on my back. In a 3, 2, 1, I open my eyes to a ceiling. I might still be drunk, or my eyes aren’t working properly, but that ceiling doesn’t look like mine. “You’re awake!” A voice startles me. There stand Montgomery De La Cruz with water and a pill of some kind. “Fuck, this doesn’t look-” “I slept on the sofa,” and my heart, unfortunately, skips a beat. I lay a glance over to the chair. It’s small. “It’s comfier than it looks,” he shrugs, edging the items towards me. I don’t even know what to say. It’s... sweet? “This could literally be anything,” I squint my eyes at the drug with as much enthusiasm as I can in this state. “Don’t you trust me?” I press my lips together and screw my face up. “I do, unfortunately,” I shrug, and take the painkiller. “Good, lets get some food,” he nods his head towards the door. In my state? No. But I couldn’t turn down his offer.

“I’m curious Monty,” we walk where we can see the beach. Not on the sand, but the path very close. I’m not sure if he’s following me, or I’m following him. “Go on,” he smile, putting a chip in his mouth. Seaside chips are the best. To be honest, everything tastes better at the beach. “How did I end up in your bed?” I smile at my question. My cheeks blush slightly at the question. I must be broken. “Well you just passed out really, so I thought it was the right thing to do,” he shrugs in a very cute way? “Where’d Scott go?” As flattered as I am, Scott should’ve been there. I’m his twin sister. “He got with some slut-” I raise my eyebrows. “Sorry, he got with a blonde girl in a red skirt.” He shivers. A chuckle exits my mouth. “What’s that about?” A smile goes across his face, looking down. I’ve noticed every move he’s made since this ‘morning’. “Red’s such a slutty colour,” he says slowly. Is he weary of my reaction? “Tell me about it!” Only a moment of silence goes by. “Well, thank you,” His eyes lock with mine. “I respect that you didn’t try it on with me, because I definitely would’ve just let it happen,” without debate. Without thinking, he speaks. “I wouldn’t want it to happen like that,” my heart skips a beat. I see the instant regret in his face, but I can’t help but feel warmed by those words. Even so, he doesn’t correct himself.

I spend the rest of my day pacing my bedroom floor. Seeing as I woke up like midday, it’s not actually too long. It felt like it. An hour felt like 3. A knock goes on my door. Although I’m not doing anything, I felt suspicious. So I rush onto my bed and start reading a page of the book closest to me. ‘Twilight’. A classic. “Come in!” I shout. I expected it to be my mum, but it’s Scott. Guilt. Why? I don’t know. I didn’t do anything wrong. Even so, there’s still a feeling of guilt in my body. And it’s heavy. “You never knock,” I laugh nervously. “I wanted to apologise for leaving you at the party. That was a shitty brother move,” he shrugs. As much as I appreciate it, it feels weird. Does he know? I let a moment of silence go by before answering. “It’s fine, at least nothing happened,” looking back at my home screen, I hope that Scott leaves. Of course he doesn’t. He hasn’t asked the vital question. “So... where’d you crash?” Now... I could lie. I feel like I could lie easily too. Only if it’s not a trick question. What if Monty’s already told Scott? Then it’ll look like I’m covering something up. Am I? Nah. “Monty took me to his, but I swear nothing happened,” I almost rush out. Scott’s facial expression doesn’t really change, other than look slightly relieved. “Don’t worry, I trust you,” there’s a pause. “So did you, like, share a bed?” Which makes me smile massively. Only my brother would ask such an awkward question. “He actually gave me his bed, and I think he slept on a chair.” Scott looks surprised. “That chair in his bedroom?” He asks. I nod slowly. “Hmm,” and he leaves.

I spend the rest of my day rewatching Teen Wolf. Let’s not lie, it’s one of the best shows out there! So here I am, crying at how beautiful Stiles is, and my phone starts to ring. Heart: drops. It’s only Monty. For some reason I’m nervous to talk to him. So I hesitate answering the phone. Just do it Y/N! “Hey,” I clear my throat lightly. For context, Monty never calls me. Why would he? We’ve texted on and off about stupid shit. Like ‘is Scott with you’ and ‘can I copy your work’. That’s it. “Y/N, how are you?” His voice echos softly through my ear. “I’m alright, what’s up?” My hair twiddles around my forefinger. “What are you doing right now?” Other than crying at a stupid Netflix show? Other than getting nervous about you calling me? “Nothing, I think Scott’s-” “I didn’t call you to ask where Scott is,” he chuckles *cutely*. His tone made it sound like that was a strange thing to say. Like I said, he’s never really called me before. Not to actually speak to me. “So, what’s up?” I ask again. My body doesn’t seem to know what to do. I go from sitting down, to laying on my back, to my front, to pacing the floor. All over the place. “I was- uh- wondering if you could sneak out?” He whispers mischievously. Eyebrows: raised. I gasp through the phone with a smile. Tutting at him, I lose the capability to speak for a second. I clear my throat again. “Monty-” “Just for a walk.”

Walking to meet Monty was insane. I don’t even know my intentions, let alone his. But somehow it makes sense. The sky is dark, the air blows cold. My joggers keep my legs cosy. My arms, however, were unprepared. I’m not cold though. I’m nervous. The uncertainty of this whole thing is driving me insane. The craziness is eating at me. And yet I don’t know if I wanna face Monty. But I am. He’s ahead of me. My stomach just can’t keep still. Even with him standing right in front of me. Whatever happens, will happen. “I thought you were gonna stand me up, Y/N,” his smile screams nerves, which made me more nervous. A guy like Monty should never be nervous. “I was hesitant to come,” he nods slowly. “But I’m here.”

The chat was just about stupid shit, funny times, and thick with ‘beating around the bush’. I should be paying attention to where we were going. The absolutely insane thing is I trust Monty. I probably always have done. Through the teasing, and the being Scott’s twin sister, I’ve always felt somewhat comfortable. He’d even given me just hoodie to wear. I’m not sure if it’s something to read into, or it’s simply a kind gesture. “Monty... why did we just walk around for like 30 minutes just to get back to my house?” I can’t hold it back anymore. I need to know why I’m here. “Why am I walking the streets with you half 10 at night?” He avoids my eye contact. I realise that he doesn’t plan on answering me right now. I stop in my place, grabbing his hand. His skin soft and warm. I wish he wasn’t so damn hard to read. “Maybe I just wanted to hang out with you?” Shaking my head, I smile at the ground before locking eyes with him again. This time his eyes stay on mine. Neither of us move. “I’m confused,” a smile spreads across his face. “I’ve been confused for a while,” my eyebrows lift in curiosity. A while? Is he confused about the same shit I am? “Explain it to me.” And he just starts walking away from me.

“Monty!” I slightly jog up to him. It’s wrong of me, but I just wanted everything out on the line. I wanted it written in black and white. “It’s hard to explain the fact that I’m pretty much in love with my best friend’s sister,” my heart drops, yet it’s full at the same time. Jaw; dropped. “I- what?” My hands cover my gradually growing smile. His face stays neutral. This whole thing is just insane. “I’m sorry, but I am obsessed with everything you stand for,” and that does it. I know there is an unwritten rule about your brother’s best friend. This makes me entirely shitty. It’s nothing I ever imagined. The silence on my end makes Monty start to walk away. “You know what!” Once again I grab Monty. “Fuck it,” this time reaching for the back of his neck and pulling him close. Our lips magnetise together. Ive never felt such passion and respect from a person. The unbelievable feeling of his fingers crawling to my waist was something I realise I’ve been missing. It’s just one long kiss, and yet it’s so much more than that. Unknowing, I have been waiting for this moment for a little too long. He pulls my body as close to his as possible. I should be considering the fact that Scott could just look out his window. A thought should’ve crossed my mind that this is one of the shittiest things either of us could do. My conscience shouldn’t be clean. Right now, this is all I can think about.

I feel like I should feel guiltier than I do. I was more nervous of Scott catching me than my parents. Scott and I have always been close. We’re twins. We will always be that. But Monty and Scott? What just happened between me and Monty was risky for that. Yet I lay on my bed staring at my ceiling; I’m smiling like a fool. The clock reads 23:39. Just sleep Y/N. I just kissed Montgomery De La Cruz. A simple, but so perfect, kiss. I can’t wrap my head around it, let alone the fact that he said he’s ‘pretty much’ in love with me. Like shit. Is he gonna regret telling me that in the morning? I hope not.

- The Next Morning -

Nerves and a centimetre of guilt pumps through my veins, waking me up at exactly 06:12. I usually wake up at 07:00, so I might as well shower. I know I shouldn’t dress up just because Monty pronounced his love for me. You know I’m going to though. A touch of mascara and tinted lip balm will be subtle enough.

“You’ve gotta stop looking like that,” Scott shakes his head at me as I jog down the stairs and into the dining room. “Scott! You look beautiful sweetheart,” my mum kisses me on the cheek and hands me a plate of pancakes. I can’t even think about eating right now. “She does it just to flirt with Monty,” a metal spoon hits my back. He scoffs. “I do not!” Usually that would be true, but today it’s not. My high waisted shorts sit perfectly on my hips, and my fitted crop top hugs my breasts. I look down at my outfit. I honestly don’t even thinks it’s that bad. “It’s not my fault Monty flirts with me,” I tease Scott. Is that even a joke though? “Fuck, you wish!” “Right!” My mum shouts. Definitely at the swearing. “Just get to school!”

There’s silence in the car. Not even the radio plays a sound. This is where the guilt starts to sink in. “We’re picking Monty up, could you move to the back when we get to his?” Scott asks, cracking the first ‘smile’ towards me today. “Oh I see how it is,” I grunt jokingly, and he actually smiles. I can’t imagine what it would be like if me and Monty carried on. If anything it shows that yesterday was a mistake and can’t happen. Too much would be risked. We don’t live far from Monty, so in seconds we were outside. It hadn’t even sunk in that I have to see him today. Fuck. Slipping out the car, we lock eyes. “Good morning, Reed,” he huskily whispers. His smile captivates me, but I just have to ignore it. Just like I’m ignoring the fact that when I slid past him to get to the back seats, our bodies scraped together: I thought, stupidly enough, sitting behind Scott would mean there would be no eye contact between Monty and I. Boy was I wrong. In the corner of his eye. In the rear view mirror. It would stop if I stopped looking at him... right now that seems impossible.

“Hey Y/N,” Jess smiles at me as I walk past her locker. Strange? But I stop and turn. “Hey, how are you?” I ask, watching her grab her books. “I’m all good. I just wanted to apologise for Clay the other day. He’s just a bit-” “I deserved it, don’t even worry about it.” She presses her top and bottom lips together tightly. “Thank you though,” I open my arms to hug her, which she surprisingly accepts, until I get a tap on the shoulder. Jess releases me. When I turn and see Monty, my heart goes from zero to a hundred real fast. Imagine a boy having such a grip on you. “Monty,” my voice comes out shaky. “Jessica,” Monty nods at her, and he grunts. “I’ll see you later,” she screws her face up at him and walks away. “She’s such a bitch,” he rolls his eyes. THIS is what I don’t like about Monty. I just wish that list was longer than the stuff I do like about him. “Anyway, can we go talk somewhere?”

Panic thoughts rush through my head as I walk out the school with Monty. What if someone starts gossiping about the fact that we’ve left the school to talk? That’s so fucking stupid. Why would people do that? I’m a little nervous. I’m actually a LOT nervous. Breathe Y/N. I take a seat on the wall behind me. “I wanted to know how you’re feeling?” He simply says. I smile down to myself. “You make this so hard, why can’t you just be an asshole to me?” I let out in a whispered chuckle. “Is that what you want?” He brushes the back of his hand against my arm. “What do you want from this?” My question just makes him raise his eyebrows, as if the answer’s obvious. Does he want a fuck-buddy? Does he want a relationship? Is he just trying to fuck with my emotions? I mean, that last one’s completed with flying colours. “You’re gonna hate me for saying this Y/N, but I honestly just want you.” If anyone else said such a thing, I’d tell them to get a grip. This is Monty. Bad boy image with devilishly good looks. The boy you love to hate, and hate to love. He’s not meant to actually swoon for a girl. Is that what’s happening? Holy shit. “I don’t know if that can happen, what about Scott?” He smiles to himself. His body places itself next to me. “This has nothing to do with Scott,” he shrugs. I wish that was true. “All Scott does is warn me to stay away from you. You’re his best friend,” hand goes to my knee. My naked knee. Please move your hand a little higher; no. “I know, but he’d get over it,” I make a ‘would he really’ face at him. It’s hard to believe that. My eyes gaze away from him for a second. I look at the sky and the trees and that school building. Monty’s eyes are the last place I should look. Except my eyes drift back to his in a second. Stomach; drops. He slowly begins to move his head towards mine. I want to stop him. I want to consider the fact that anyone could see us right now. Including Scott. In all honesty, his lips aren’t moving towards mine fast enough. “Montgomery,” my whispered words stop his in his place. My forehead fall onto his. “I’d risk it, for you.”

School is always a drag, but when you’re waiting for it to end it goes 10x slower. Once again, the rest of our people had last period free. This leaves Monty and I the only ones left. I should be avoiding the boy at all costs. But my hearts flutters when I see him waiting at the school doors for me. I can’t even find words. “Hey,” Monty gives me a contained smile, as if he was holding back. I’m already blushing. “Montgomery,” I say simply. He starts moving, so my body automatically follows his lead. I honestly can’t help it. Can you blame me? Have you met the guy?! “Do you wanna walk with me?” Walk with him? Fuck yeah. But we all know what happened on that last walk of ours. For some reason that only makes me want to walk with him even more. I can’t control myself... he must have a voodoo doll or something.

As usual, our chats flow too naturally. I guess we’ve always spoken, but I never realised how well we got on until recently. Have I been hiding these feelings? It wasn’t intentional. But I should be containing my feelings now. I should cut Monty off before we hurt Scott. I wish I could. “How do you feel?” He asks again. Fuck, I wish he’d leave it alone. “That’s a loaded question Monty.” He stops in his place. A thought bubble appears above his head. It’s only for a few seconds. Then he softly takes hold of my forearm, and leads me into an alleyway. This is it. This is where he kills me. Both of his hands go to my wrists, lifting them and pushing me against the wall. This is single handedly the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced in my life. His eyes just stare back into mine. We’re so used to just staring at each other at this point. “How do you feel?” He asks again. I feel like I want his body on top of mine if we’re honest. A smug look captivates his face. Can he hear my thoughts? I gulp loudly. I think I’m about to have a heart attack. “Y/N,” he whispers deeply. “Can you just kiss me already?!”

He’s seems almost struck by my words. As if, although he wanted to hear them, he wasn’t expecting me to actually say them. His eyes scan my body intricately, up and down. I could watch him look at me all day. “Monty... did you hear what I said?” I ask. The corners of his mouth turn up before he makes a move. Finally. His lips on mine once again. I’ve been aching for this moment for at least 16 hours since the last, and first, time. Only this time it’s not just a long, still kiss. Within seconds his tongue asks for access into my mouth. The angel on my shoulder makes me hesitate. This is wrong. But it’s so fucking right. The devil, and my entire body, screams yes. His mouth; warm. The massaging sensation of his tongue sends flutters in every place possible. His hands squeeze my wrists tighter before realising them. They move to balance on the wall. Mine go to the bottom of his tee and... I realise we’re outside. In public. Where everyone and anyone can see us. I break away from his spell for a second. It’s somewhat comforting to see him breathing just as heavy as me. My right hand goes to his chest. “Fuck...” I whisper. I lean my head on the front of his shoulder. In the most adorable way, he places a soft kiss on the top of my head. He can definitely do that more often. “Do you wanna come back to mine?” He asks. What a stupid fucking question.

Luckily we were only seconds away from Monty’s place. I felt giggly the whole 3-5 minutes. It’s like I was in a trance. I heard Monty say that he dad was at work, and honestly it’s all I needed to hear. I could think about guilt, l right now, or anything other than the fact that I’ve never needed or wanted something so much in my life. So he unlocks the door. Before we can even get in the building, I turn Monty towards me and jump. My legs wrap around his waist tightly as I latch my lips onto his. This time there was nothing stopping us. Slam goes the door behind us. The wetness between my legs only grows as Monty’s hands cup my ass cheeks. Squeezing slightly, I let a small, breathy moan enter his mouth. He grunts. “Fuck, Y/N,” he mutters between our lips. It’s almost like he stepped foot on the gas. I’m not sure how, but Monty walks us up the stairs whilst we make out, all the way up to his bedroom. Maybe I should be wondering how he’s so good at this. I couldn’t care less.

My back bounces onto the bed. Our lips stay apart for only a second before his body is above mine. Hands smooth up and down from my hips to my waist. His fingers crawl to the buttons of my shorts. He stops. “Is this okay?” He asks. This is the moment. I know, just by that statement alone, that Monty is worth it. It confirms it all for me. My hands cover my mouth in awe. “I fucking love that,” I pretty much squeal. “Monty,” I speak, holding his head between my hands. “This is more than okay, I need you.” His lips attach back onto mine, and he starts undoing my shorts. I wiggle and lift my body to make it go faster, but they just don’t come off fast enough. All I keep imagining is that this is a dream. This is too crazy to be actually happening.

Just as Monty’s lips go to my neck, I hear a buzz. Is that my alarm? No. So this must be real. It is, however, Monty’s phone ringing. Monty pulls himself off of me. I reach over, pick up his phone, and see ‘Scotty’ written across the top. 1. Cute. 2. Fuck. “Imma just ignore it,” he smirks, rubbing his body back against mine. I don’t know what comes over me, but I find the strength and confidence to flip us over. I smile massively at what I’ve just accomplished. Here I am, straddling Montgomery De La Cruz. Does it get any better? His eyes look shocked. “That’s so fucking hot,” he lifts his head to lock our lips. “Shut up,” I whisper against his lips. I slide my tongue between his lips and... a phone rings. “Fuck,” I grunt frustratedly. ‘Scott’ comes across my phone this time. “Fuck, I’m gonna have to answer it,” I speak in a panic. “It’s fine just ignore him,” he reaches to grab my phone. My hand moves slowly away, making his eyes roll. “He could put 2 and 2 together and make 4,” I say simply. Shit. Act natural. “Hey Scott,” the key is to not overthink this. I won’t think about the fact that I’m in a thong straddling him best friend. Or that Monty’s fingers are tracing pattens on my ass cheeks. “Hey, have you seen Monty?” Of course. What other question would he ask? ‘I have actually. He’s currently between my legs. I could pass you on?’ But no. “No I haven’t, what’s up?” I hear a sigh through the phone. Okay Scott, just hang up now. “Bryce is looking for him. Where are you?” I put a bit of pressure on Monty’s chest with my hand, as I sign to stop, but he does not. Instead he squeezes my buttcheeks ever so slightly. This sends a rush of pleasure through my body, and a HEAVY breath out my mouth. “It sounds dodgy your end Y/N,” he laughs. I can hear the nerves in his voice. I know he’s thinking the worst, and it’s actually a reality right now. “I’m just working out.” In my head I can see Scott shake his head at my response. You’d think, as a jock, he’d understand the grind of working out and keeping fit. But no, Scott is naturally built like an athlete. “Well, enjoy that shit I guess?” His voice is uncertain. “If you do see Monty, tell him to come to the house! Bye,” before I can respond, he hangs up. I think I did it.

I let out a deep breath of relief. “Scott said that if I see you I should tell you to go to our house,” Monty pretends to throw me off him, but instead he flips us back over. “You can go if you’d like,” I mutter, slowly sticking out my bottom lip. I’m lying. My legs tighten around his body. His eyes widen. “I think I’m gonna stay with you,” he smiles, planting his lips back onto mine. He continues to kiss down my neck, just like he was before we were interrupted. “Montgomery,” I’m not sure if I regret stopping him. Theres just one thing I need more than this foreplay right now. Eyes: locked together. Fuck. He makes me nervous. I feel like it’s my first time all over again. “Can you just, like, fuck me now?” I giggle. I hardly finished my sentence before he pulls himself off me to go into a drawer. A condom. To get comfy, I move myself to his pillows. To think, a couple of days ago I woke up in this room panicking because I thought I slept with Monty. Now I’m about to.

He rummages the condom on in seconds. I’ll worry about the fact that he’s clearly very experienced later. “Is this good?” He asks. I could make a silly joke about how ‘he hasn’t started yet’. But I know exactly what he means. And it’s so fucking cute. My hands reach for the back of his head, pulling his lips onto mine for just a peck. “This is perfect.” Eyes are locked together, he leans down and rubs his nose on mine. The palpating going through my body is concerning. And somehow, just when he starts entering, it feels real. This only probably ever crossed my mind once. I steady my breathing as he pushes himself further inside me. Not a virgin, but definitely not a slut. In my opinion anyway. He notices me trying to get comfortable and plants his lips on mine for one long kiss. Humming vibrates from his lips onto mine. I want this moment to last forever.

Breath. Monty stays still for just a second, and pulls his lips away from mine. His right hand sweeps a strand of my hair out of my face. I reach my right hand up to his face, caressing his cheek and smoothing my thumb against his bottom lip. “You are,” pause, “so beautiful,” he says boldly. It wasn’t whispered. It wasn’t a question. I could hear he meant it. Montgomery De La Cruz thinks I’m beautiful. Without warning, he starts to pull out. My mouth gapes more and more. You know that point where you’re on a rollercoaster and you’re waiting for the drop... that was the anticipation for Monty to start thrusting. I’m a mess underneath him. When he does start, I feel myself coming apart at the seams already. His lips go back to mine, my arms stretch around his neck to pull him closer. Our tongues dance around. This was a ‘finally’ moment. The steadiness of the thrusts was perfection. It wasn’t rough, but it was nowhere near slow. And gentle. Everything about this boy was gentle. I don’t know if anyone has ever seen this soft Monty. I want this Monty all to myself. And right now, he’s mine. I wanted, and I needed, him as close as I could. My legs probably couldn’t wrap around his waist any tighter.

My entire being wanted to hold on for as long as I could, but this boy has some serious tricks. I feel like I’m quite stubborn so I could hold off. Monty’s right hand smooths down my hip, down my thigh, and hooks under my knee. As he lifted my leg slight higher, I knew I couldn’t hold on. “Fuck,” I pretty much squeal into his mouth as he reaches my g-spot. My abdomen bursts with excitement. My eyes glance at him biting his bottom lip very discreetly. His lips move from my lips to the side of my neck. I close my eyes for a second to just soak this moment in. I never thought I needed to feel this close to Monty. The pace increases by 2x at least, and a long lost knot begins to form in my stomach. It’s as if my body can sense the boy’s need to release. I think we’ve both been waiting for this moment for a little longer than we think we have. “Please tell me your close,” his husky voice tingles my neck. “Oh my god!” I moan loudly as my climax... finally. Connected. We continue to ride out each other’s highs. Wow.

My head lays against Monty’s chest. I know this can’t last forever. At some point I have to go home. When my heart stops racing, I sit up. “Do you regret it?” Is the first thing Monty asks. I smile to myself slightly. I shake my head slowly. “I kinda wish I did,” I shrug and turn my body towards him and cross my legs. “What do we do now?” I ask with a nervous giggle. He just stares at me. I’ve never been looked at like that before. “Scott’s gonna have to get over it. You’re too beautiful to keep it a secret,” cheesy, but fucking cuuuute. “Shut up. You’ll start making me believe it in a minute,” I push his chest lightly. Monty takes my hand and pulls me close to him. “You’re beautiful Y/N.” It’s hard to make jokes when the most handsome person is staring you dead in the eyes. My cheeks heat too quickly. “So, I heard you kinda like your best friends sister... how’s that working out for you?” I whisper. He opens his mouth, smiling massively for a second. “I actually say that I’m in love with my best friend’s sister. You should get your facts right.” A grin bigger than my head itself forms. “Wow, sassy Monty’s got,” I tease. “I mean it, Y/N. I’m in love with you.” I open my mouth to respond, but no words seems to form. I gobsmacked. Most of the times when I say I’m speechless, I’ve still got shit to say. I don’t know what to say to that. “Fuck, Monty,” I whisper. I nudge my nose against his chin. “If it turns out it’s because I look a little like Scotty, I’m gonna be pissed,” I laugh. Once again, Monty flips us over and puts his body between my legs. He put his tongue between his lips, licking them very sexily I might add. “That’s just a bonus,” my mouth drops open before pulling Monty’s lips down onto mine once again.

#13 reasons why #13rw #montgomery de la cruz #13 reasons why montgomery #scott reed #13 reasons why scott #monty x reader #monty smut #smut #Montgomery de la Cruz x reader

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beatles-slash-fiction · 4 years ago

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lennstarr, john giving a piggyback ride to ringo bcs ringo is tired and drunk (which is rare when he's with john since john is the one who usually get wild) ringo adorably snuggles to john and keep saying weird things. john is not sure whether to laugh or concerned with what came out of his mouth.

“Jesus Christ, you’re fucking heavy.”

Sweat is pouring down John’s face by the time they make it to Whaddon House, and he’s not quite prepared to admit how hideously unfit he is.

“And you’re soooo strong!” Ringo giggles, tightening his arms around John’s neck and burying his face in John’s hair.

They’re lucky there are no members of the press camped outside the building tonight, otherwise they’d make quite a sight in tomorrow’s papers.

John buzzes the flat three times before George answers in a tired voice, and he’s just trying to assess how the hell he’s going to get Ringo up the stairs when the smaller man gives him a little kick in his side.

“Christ, you owe me big time,” John grunts as he starts to make the journey up the stairs, gripping Ringo’s thighs a little tighter.

“Thank you, John,” Ringo sing-songs. “I owe you. Stay tonight and I’ll give you a blowjob if you want.”

John knows it’s a joke but an image of Ringo on his knees immediately flashes through his brain, and he knows that an erection is really the last thing he needs to be dealing with right now.

By the time they make it to the flat, George has already opened the door and is waiting for them dressed in his pyjamas.

“Do I want to know?” he asks, stepping aside to let them in and letting out a yawn.

“Ringo’s plastered,” John says in explanation, trying to remember which of the three bedrooms belongs to Ringo.

“Second on the right,” George says, reading his mind. “You gonna stay over tonight? It’s two in the morning.”

“Yeah,” John says, trying to banish Ringo’s comment from earlier from his head. “Thanks. Sorry for waking you.”

He gets Ringo into the bedroom and gently lowers him onto the bed, at which point Ringo bursts into another fit of giggles.

“My hero!”

“Yeah yeah,” John mutters, pulling off Ringo’s shoes. “C’mon, let’s get you out of these clothes.”

Ringo can just about sit up so that John can work his shirt off him, but his fingers are too clumsy on his belt so John has to unfasten it for him and work his jeans off.

Ringo is just about to attempt to slide his underwear off when John grabs his wrists.

“Why don’t you leave those on for now, yeah?”

It’s not like John wouldn’t appreciate seeing Ringo naked. But he’s painfully aware of how drunk Ringo is, and the last thing he’d want is Ringo feeling embarassed or awkward about this tomorrow.

“Do you want to put some pyjamas on or do you want to sleep like this?” John asks.

Ringo answers him by trying to get under the covers, and once again John has to give him a hand.

“Thanks, John,” Ringo slurs as his head hits the pillow. “Love you.”

And then he grabs the front of John’s shirt and pulls him down in an attempt to kiss him, but John manages to gently duck away.

Again, it’s not like a goodnight kiss from Ringo (or anything else for that matter) wouldn’t be lovely, but Ringo trusts Johm, and right now he’s far too drunk.

“Love you too,” John says softly. “Get some sleep now. I’ll be right next door in the guest room if you need me.”

But Ringo is already snoring softly and drooling on the pillow slightly, so John just chuckles and turns off the light.

George is waiting for him outside with a concerned look on his face.

“Blimey. I’ve never seen him like that before.”

“Yeah. I should’ve kept a better eye on him. I’ll hang around in the morning if you like to help take care of him.”

“If I like?” George asks, his lips twitching into a smile. “You mean, if you like?”

John simply responds to that with a night, George, giving his friend an affectionate kiss on the cheek before heading to the guest room to reflect on his life choices.

#lennstarr

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papermoonloveslucy · 3 years ago

Text

INDOMINATABLE LIFESTYLE

July 16, 1972

HOLLYWOOD - Indomitable funny girl Lucille Ball, with a messy scoop hair the color of an orange popsicle, flashes on the scene in a sad predicament.

She's got a lame leg.

Lucy hobbled from her sleek silver Rolls Royce and into the yellow cubbyhole dressing room which is a sunny retreat near the Lucy set which Is crawling with rehearsal activity.

On the surface, everything's ha-ha-ha. But the fact is that surgeons have inserted pins into the shattered leg bone suffered last year in a Snowmass Peak, Colo., skiing accident. The leg brace is a semi-intolerable ball and chain. But, as always, crippling situations must be mastered. Lucy's inextinguishable spirit pulsates despite the physical handicap.

Lucy Is showing a smiling color photograph of herself in a flowing white hooded cape coat rimmed in fluffy fox. The picture, radiating exterior happiness, doesn't reflect the inner pain. Lucy's leg, in a hip cast, is disguised under a blanket.

You know the familiar Lucy grin? She's grinning it and saying hell no, baby, she's not ever going to ski again. She couldn't stomach another goddam ordeal like that. Besides, on the immediate horizon is an operation to remove the pins.

Lucy, being Lucy, bears the cross with humor: "Honey," she says, "skiing is just getting into those nice winter clothes and being a show off." The burdensome subject of broken bones is dismissed with frivolity.

Brainy Lucy, now 60 and president of a $30 million corporation, is an American institution.

But, like all super-successful females, she vibrates complex contradictions. The fashion plate - who initiated her career as a Hattie Carnegie hat model - is a winsome dumb broad on the tube. In reality she's tough executive who barks orders left and right. Staffers instantly do like the lady says. God has spoken. Lucy runs a tight ship, but she is more respected than feared.

Yet Lucy is softie with a heart of spun sugar. Trappings, which she has in predictable abundance, aren't a psychic crutch.

"Success is knowing that if everything were wiped away tomorrow, it wouldn't really matter. I wouldn't die if I lost my things," she says. Then the awesome simplicity: "Dear, I still go home and let the cat out"

Lucy has always run her home life with a liberal hand.

Desi Arnaz, Jr. is currently Involved in well-publicized liaison with Liza Minnelli. There was a previous Desi scandal regarding Patty Duke. People gossip a lot here because they live in a city where the major industry is make-believe and fact and fiction become blurred.

Lucy isn't deaf to the talk about her son's romances:

"What the hell, they're having a fine spree. I just hope it lasts for Desi and Liza. They don't have time to get married. Their scene is the world and they're swinging in there. I'm the one who talked marriage to them. One night I said: Look, kids, don't get married too soon. They were upset. Desi countered with the observation that you don't have to settle down when you get married. So I go - well, that's true son! The subject of marriage just never came up again. They're a nice couple. They present themselves well without becoming asses. I've told the kids to do as they wish."

Lucy, who was a good friend to Judy Garland, makes no bones about her affection for Liza. And once Lucy loves, the feeling lasts. After 20 years of marriage to Desi Arnaz, there was the divorce. Still Lucy looks people straight in the eyes and says the present Mrs. Desi Arnaz is a "wonderful woman." And she can see it in her heart to rent ex-husband Desi studio space on her lot so that he can work in the shadow of a success they initiated together.

When Liza Minnelli was a child, Lucy kept a scrapbook of Liza's activities at play, in ballet school, attending birthday parties. There, in a battered old photo album, are the precious pictures. Liza didn't know about the book until recently. Desi brought Liza home and Lucy accidentally-on-purpose left the book on a coffee table. "Oh! Wow!" exclaimed Liza through a flow of uncontrollable tears.

Lucy; "And I said to Liza, honey-baby, I told you I've known you for a long time. Didn't you believe me?" Lucille Ball speaks in an affectionate aside about Liza and the loyalty is simultaneously visible and audible:

"That kid is liable to explode any minute. I just hope I'm around to pick up the pieces. No one knows why she works so hard. She's made it her objective to clear her mother financially. Those b--- lawyers took her --- really took her. But she's paying back every damn cent herself."

Life is, of course, an inexplicable mixture of tears and laughter. Buoyant Lucy can see the funnies in everything. Love, she says, is looking beyond someone's minor faults and caring passionately despite the irritations. Lucy's 80-year-old mom, Dede (Desiree Ball) lives near Lucy's sprawling colonial house in Beverly Hills. Dede has a longstanding idiosyncrasy which used to drive Lucy wild but is now an amusement.

In that familiar screechy scratchy soprano voice oozing feigned stupidity, Lucy sing-songs the dialogue;

"I say to Dede: Hey Dede, I've got a pain in my elbow. Dede always says: 'stupid, it's because you're not eating right!" Honest to God, if you've got a pain in your big toe, it's not because someone stepped on it it's the food. Drives you nuts! Dede really has a thing about food. The other day I went home and cooked a batch of chicken. 'Chicken!!" says Dede, 'you know it's gonna make me sick.' Of course Dede eats more chicken than anybody. Next day I say: Dede you been up all night throwin', huh? Naw," says Dede, the chicken wasn't half bad.'"

The ridiculous story illustrates two things Dede taught Lucy early in life. One: That without good health you've got nothing. Two; That without a non-pliant, thoroughly independent attitude, you've got less than nothing because show business kills the weak.

Lucy is in constant awe of Dede. When Lucy built the five-story ski chalet 9,800 feet on the side of a Colorado mountain she was certain Dede couldn't take either the long trip or the altitude. Besides, once you get to Lucy's place, there are a million icy steps to climb before you make the front door. "Even the dogs stop to get their breath," says Lucy. "But when I start huffing, Dede looks over her shoulder and sorta snaps: Aw, Lucy, you're a sissy!' That woman is my challenge."

Does Lucy ever get down? Do the burdens of crushing disappointments halt her enthusiasm even temporarily? "Jesus," she says, "I cry. I cry a lot. Then anger sets in. When I'm angry, I become a fighter. And I always fight to win."

When Lucy talks to you, she taps your knee in a natural gesture of intimacy. Her gaze is through black fringed x-ray eyes that sear through trivia. She smokes her cigarette twirled ceremoniously between her thumb and forefinger. Lucy always spews gut honesty:

"Love is a great peace of mind. There's no panic in the relationship. It's never having to prove yourself. Love is not playing games. Baby, some women have to put up with mysterious absenteeism. That's always a sign of hanky panky-ism. Christ, I never have to worry where Gary is."

Gary is Gary Morton, Lucy's husband and executive producer. Suddenly he bursts into the dressing room and asks for the afternoon off. Lucy's going to work the full day. Her answer is affirmative, but she doesn't use the word "yes"; "Just don't forget to tell the cook to get out the steaks and have a big salad ready."

The show is all in the family. Lucy's sister, Cleo Smith, is another producer. Lucy is having the talk-about twosome of Desi Jr. and Liza written into a script. Little Lucy, who has been Mrs. Phil Vandervort for a year, is a regular. She, too, bursts into the dressing room to use the john. The jeans are already embarrassingly unzipped. As she whizzes by she comments only to her famous mama: "Jeez, I though you were alone!"

But an emergency is an emergency. Lucy, quick to seize the humor, quips: "Our togetherness is only occasionally splintered."

In retrospect, Lucy is pleased with her real-life mother role. "I've been one hell of a mom," she says. "I always knew where they were every minute." Lucille Ball is a profound woman who often uses great simplicities to get her points across.

Once, when the kids were small, a nurse observed to Lucy that Little Lucy was calling Desi Jr., "fatso," and jabbing him in the stomach-when no one was looking. Desi didn't hit back because mama had said never to hit defenseless little girls. Lucy relives the old conversation with her daughter, first announcing each "part" and changing voices to portray the back-and-forth swing of conversation:

Big Lucy: "Got a problem, Little Lucy?"

Little Lucy: "Me? No."

Big Lucy: "Let's talk. Whose fault is it? No, actually it doesn't matter whose fault it is. Next time one of you is hurt, I'm going to hit the one who is hurt."

Little Lucy: "What does that mean, ma?"

Big Lucy: "You'll see."

Soon there was another battle. As usual, Little Lucy elbowed Desi in the stomach and he howled, Lucy illogically whacked Desi hard on the rear and his screams got louder. Little Lucy immediately became hysterical: "Mom, don't hit him! For God's sake, why are you hitting HIM?"

Lucy delivered the punch line which is the credo of their life: "I hit Desi because you let things go too far. Never let things go too far. Someone innocent always suffers. Do you understand?"

That was the end of sibling squabbling. Forever.

Once, before her chorus girl days, New York-born Lucy worked as a fashion mannequin for various Seventh Ave. houses. She's still got a clotheshorse figure but she won't splurge on couture: "I'm just one of those normal working women who doesn't go in for hifalutin’ fashion."

Lucy haunts three fabric shops in Beverly Hills and has local movie set seamstresses make all her clothes. "I'm not the type who dresses and goes out," says Lucy who long ago graduated from the silly-but-necessary movie star game of being seen in the right places.

"Once when I was in Paris, I bought a designer dress grey flannel, I think and wore it out from the salon to my car. When I sat down the damn thing was so strictly constructed that the neckline popped up to my nose. I was on my way to Switzerland and I mumbled to my driver, God, did that designer expect me to stand up on the plane?" Lucy can afford emergencies. When she got to Orly, she bought a dress from an airport boutique and changed in the ladies room.

And, so, the sweet saga of Lucy continues, there are no plans to quit. The word - retirement - isn't in her vocabulary. "I can't imagine doing nothing," she says. "If you don't keep moving, you're buried."

The beauty is still there. The complexion is like alabaster. Lucy confesses that she washes her face with Ivory soap, colors her own hair and occasionally gives herself offbeat facials."

"Honey, the idiot who said to put honey on your face never explained that it has to be mixed with cream," she says. The face melts into that wonderful famous grin. "I put honey on straight from the goddamn jar and it closed my pores for a month."

That's lovable Lucy.

[Ed. Note: The original photographs were degraded by copying so similar shots were substituted as close to the originals as possible.]

# # #

#Lucille Ball #Desi Arnaz #Gary Morton #Wildcat #Dede Ball #Lucie Arnaz #Desi Arnaz Jr.#Liza Minnelli

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makaylajadewrites · 4 years ago

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The Performance

Summary: “I have a show tonight. I was just going to… you know, throw it out there. In case you wanted to go. You don’t have to, of course, I figured I would just offer since we’re dating now and—“ He was cut off by Morgan's lips silencing his own, and he kissed back briefly before Derek pulled back.

“Of course I’ll go,” he said with a warm smile, and Spencer smiled a bit shyly, looking down at his crossed legs and just nodding his head.

“Alright…”

Potential tws: Smut

After their four day long case in Modesto, the team came home late Friday night tired, rightfully so, and ready to go home. As usual, Spencer and Derek carpooled together, but since it was so late, Derek told Spencer that he could stay with him tonight. Tomorrow was Saturday anyway, so neither had to wake up early. And besides, what more could Spencer want than to spend time with his insanely hot boyfriend? Well, picking up Tolstoy sounded like a nice outlet too, but if Morgan insisted then he supposed he would spend the night.

Both were too tired to do anything other than share a few kisses in bed. Morgan had given him a tee shirt to wear, which swallowed up Spencer’s slight frame, but they had gotten comfortable enough with each other that he didn’t even bother with pants. They curled up together in Derek’s California king, an intimate yet relaxed mess of limbs and lips. It was really nice to be like this with Derek, because they were able to forget about their horrible case and just be. They shared a particularly good kiss, both passionate yet sleepy at the same time, slow and emotional, and Reid pulled away from Derek, a string of saliva connecting their bottom lips. Derek’s eyes widened a bit at his lover’s boldness when his tongue flicked out to rid it away, but he just smiled tiredly at him.

“That was rough,” Spencer said in a hushed voice, alluding to their most recent case. It had ended well, thankfully, since they managed to hunt down their unsub before he had sought out his next pair of victims. He had killed four total, a relatively low body count compared to what they were used to, but the things he did to them… They were lucky he had only killed four.

“It was,” Derek mumbled in agreement, his thumb tracing over Spencer’s high cheekbone as their eyes met in the darkness of the room. But, knowing Reid’s adamant yet shy fear of the dark, he had accommodated Spencer’s needs into his own living space by wrapping fairy lights over and around the headboard of his bed, and they created a warm glow to dispel any thoughts of monsters hiding in the abhorrent absence of light.

“As long as we’ve done this job… I’ll just never understand. I know that part of profiling is to understand why an unsub does what they do, but no amount of training in the world will ever explain it to me,” Spencer murmured thoughtfully, dropping the ‘all-knowing genius’ facade for just a moment to simply feel.

“You know it doesn’t matter if it makes sense to us, Angel,” Derek said, “Only that it makes sense to the unsub. You know that.”

“I know that I know that,” Spencer quickly defended, shaking his head which caused quite the uproar of his messy waves, “I just wish it did.”

Derek simply sighed heavily, leaning forehead and pressing his lips to Spencer’s forehead before he just met his eyes with a smile, “I know. But we never will, and I think that’s for the best. Let’s get some sleep, hm?”

Spencer nodded and hummed an affirmative before snuggling closer to his partner’s chest and settling in for the night. Derek found it strange that, even with a bed as large as his own, they still preferred to be wrapped up in one another. They fell asleep with one another blissfully, putting to rest their conflicts with the world for the sake of rest.

The next morning came sooner than Spencer would have liked. He grumbled at the sun, her rays burning his corneas to crisp beneath his eyelids because Jesus Christ why was it so fucking bright. To say Spencer was not a morning person was an absolute disgrace. He was anti-mornings, full out hate towards waking up early, and it seemed that Derek just had to do that to him this morning. So much for not getting out of bed until the afternoon… Morgan was slipping out of bed, their limbs untangling unfortunately and Spencer grumbled curses that would probably make his mother cry if she ever heard. It was honestly amazing how much he despised mornings. His love for coffee would usually say otherwise, but his love for coffee was honestly the only motivation he used to get out of bed in the mornings.

“Fucking… Damnit… Jesus fucking…” Spencer cursed while kicking his tangled legs in frustration, sending a glare as sharp as daggers towards Derek who looked innocent and confused. He had only spent nights with Spencer during the week, where they were forced to get up and go to work. But he was starting to realize that maybe getting up for his six o’clock run was not a good idea.

“What the fuck, Derek? Fuck you,” he hissed, and for a second Derek thought he saw a forked tongue slither past his lover’s pretty, venom coated lips. So much for leaving quietly.

“Just go back to sleep, baby,” he said rather calmly, but with Spencer now sitting upright in bed, his hair an absolute disaster and his fists clenched angrily into the bedspread, he knew he wasn’t getting out of this one.

“Don’t ‘baby’ me, you jackass. Unbelievable,” he groaned, falling back in bed and pulling the blankets over his head. Derek resisted the urge to laugh out of his shock and humor. He knew that Reid often complained about getting up early, but he didn’t know that this was the result of waking him inadvertently on a Saturday morning.

“Sleep well,” he offered, just to add fuel to the fire, and a boisterous laugh bubbled past his lips as he ran out of the room, a pillow hitting the door as he closed it behind him.

Spencer grumbled in frustration, laying in bed for nearly ten minutes, long after Derek had left him in an angry, half asleep state. But, alas, he was wide awake and so with nothing better to do, he threw the covers away and dragged himself out of bed to wreak havoc on the world. Fuck Derek Morgan.

He trudged downstairs and into Derek’s kitchen, turning on the coffee maker and disappearing into the bathroom to get himself situated for the day. Now that he thought about it… He had a show tonight, which Morgan didn’t know about. He wanted to invite him, but he was a bit hesitant since tonight was performance night. All of the queens would partake in some sort of talent or skill and show it off to their audience, and it just so happened that the only viable talent Spencer had was dancing, believe it or not.

He had spent hours locked in his room with a pair of heels on, either learning a choreography or making one of his own. They were usually not incredibly difficult or complex, but the one he had picked for tonight and practiced for nearly a month was somewhat hard, and he feared with Derek there, he would mess up or make a fool of himself. But they were together now, so he at least had to give Derek the option.

He shaved away his stubble while the shower water was heating up, brushing his hand down his soft cheek and smiling slightly. Luckily he never had much body hair to begin with, but for shows, he always liked to make sure he was smooth and soft — Derek had once made a comment about how soft his legs were one night when they were naked in bed together after a lovemaking session, and Spencer embarrassedly confessed that he shaved them regularly. But Derek didn’t seem perturbed or turned off. Instead, he pulled Spencer’s long leg to hook over his hip and felt up and down his thigh for the rest of the night.

After a slightly longer-than-usual shower due to shaving, Reid slipped out and dressed in some of Derek’s clothes for the sake of simplicity and wandered back into the kitchen where he poured himself a cup of coffee which he proceeded to taint with an ungodly amount of sugar. It was then that the front door opened, and Spencer peered in through the doorway to spot his lover, panting and sweaty — just how he liked him.

“I thought you were going back to sleep,” Derek deadpanned with a slightly confused expression on his face.

“A simple ‘good morning’ would have sufficed,” Spencer said sarcastically in response, and he nearly gasped as arms twined around his torso and hot lips pressed against his neck.

“Don’t get smart with me,” Morgan lectured playfully, and Spencer glanced back over his shoulder at the other man with a small smirk on his full lips.

“But that’s all that I’m good at,” he said innocently with a shrug of his shoulders to which Derek just sighed against his skin, pressing his hips against Spencer’s backside. Spencer stumbled forward against the counter, nearly losing his mug of coffee and feeling his cheeks heat up.

“I love seeing you in my clothes,” Derek murmured behind him, and Spencer just shivered at the feeling of his hand sliding up his stomach, underneath of the fabric of his shirt. He was, after all, wearing one of Derek’s old Northwestern shirts and a simple pair of his boxer shorts. He was a wet dream if Derek did say so himself.

“Well, it seems like you prefer me without them,” Spencer mumbled cutely, and Derek’s chest rumbled with a chuckle. Spencer set his mug down and spun around to face him before hopping up on the countertop, resting his hands over Derek’s shoulders and letting them slide down over his chest slowly. Derek just gazed upon him like he were a work of art, a masterpiece.

“I can’t argue with that,” he said with another chuckle, and Spencer smiled fondly, leaning in and letting their lips connect in a pleasant, warm kiss. Spencer brushed his hand over the back of his partner’s head and around his neck, his slender fingers curling under his jaw as they both broke apart. Derek tucked Reid’s still-damp locks behind his ear, admiring his gorgeous face since he had never seen someone more beautiful.

“Hey, Der?” he murmured softly, reaching over blindly for his coffee mug before finding it and raising it to his lips, taking a sip.

“Hm?” Derek hummed in response, seemingly entranced by Spencer’s movements.

“I have a show tonight. I was just going to… you know, throw it out there. In case you wanted to go. You don’t have to, of course, I figured I would just offer since we’re dating now and—“ He was cut off by Morgan's lips silencing his own, and he kissed back briefly before Derek pulled back.

“Of course I’ll go,” he said with a warm smile, and Spencer smiled a bit shyly, looking down at his crossed legs and just nodding his head.

“Alright…” he murmured, clearly more nervous than he originally showed. He wasn’t normally this nervous before shows, but to know that his lover was going to see a real performance night instead of just a catwalk was somewhat crippling and he felt a little nauseous now that he realized that Derek was going to see him dance. He refused to dance whenever they went out for drinks as colleagues, and he was damned sure not going to dance like a drunken fool in clubs. Derek would definitely be surprised by what he had to offer.

“I can’t wait,” Derek said, leaning forward to kiss him once more before stepping away and announcing he was going to take a shower. Spencer sat motionless on the counter, a goofy smile on his lips. He was doomed.

Spencer had never been more unsure of himself in all his life. He spent the majority of the day with Derek, but when the evening neared, he was driven back to his apartment and told Derek that his performance started at eight, which he promised to attend. It was now seven forty-five, he was touching up his makeup in the backroom and fixing a wig cap over his messy hair. He slid on a wavy dark wig, running his fingers through the synthetic hair and just taking a deep breath before getting dressed in something akin to a contemporary dance unitard. It was all black, and the top portion was low-cut and heart-shaped. The spandex material turned into a loose, sheer fabric across his upper thighs which silhouetted his long slender legs, extending down to his ankles where he wore a pair of black salsa heels. He was ready, but he was nervous, and he only hoped he wouldn’t mess up.

“You’re going to do great, honey,” Said Ciara, one of the older drag queens who was pretty much equivalent to his drag mother.

“I sure hope so,” he hummed softly in response, and Ciara just stroked his hair before grinning at him in the mirror.

“He’s here tonight, isn’t he?” She asked, and he just sighed before nodding nervously, an awkward smile breaking out across his makeup-covered face.

“All the more reason for you to dance your heart out,” she said, patting his shoulder for him to stand which he did. She grasped his hands, holding them tightly and looking over his pretty face fondly. “Just show him who Bria Monique is, baby.”

That was all the encouragement he needed. He smiled, nodded, and let himself fade away so that Bria could finally come to light. She stepped on stage when her name was announced, and without looking too hard, she saw Derek in the front row near center stage. With something akin to a seductive smirk, she positioned herself and waited patiently for the song to start. And when it did, it was unlike anything Derek had ever seen.

To say that the song choice was unexpected was an understatement. God is a woman seemed to be one of the last possible songs on Derek’s mind, but the performance he received in return was incredible. He never knew Spencer could move like that, with the way he gyrated his hips and fucking hell, Spencer, who said you could move like that. He seemed so natural, with the way he carried himself across the stage and moved his arms so beautifully. It was all about women empowerment, and Spencer was expressing that better than any woman Derek had ever seen. His lover was a natural. The way he moved was so organic that Derek was in awe. It was sexy, raw, and increasingly beautiful, and day by day, Derek was realizing that there was so much more he had to learn about his lover.

Fucking hell, the splits?… Derek’s jaw dropped as Spencer slid down effortlessly into the splits, arms extended, his back arching and dipping backwards beautifully with the conclusion of the song. His head fell back and eyes gazed up into the stage lights as he panted heavily, a smile growing on his face as he realized he had done it without any faults. In response to his performance, he received quite the applause, and it soon turned into a standing ovation as he slid his legs together again and blew kisses to the crowd, thanking them despite the fact that his voice was blurred out by the audience. He stood up and disappeared behind stage where his fellow queens hugged him and cheered him on, Ciara meeting him with a warm embrace and kissing his cheeks with great exclamations of pride.

The night continued on as normal and by ten thirty, the show concluded. Spencer expressed his desire to spend time with Derek since he hadn’t seen him all night, and he pranced across the club barefoot until he and Derek found each other, and he was ultimately scooped up into his lover’s arms and spun around effortlessly, loud bubbles of laughter passing his pretty pink lips. He was finally set down and Morgan looked more proud than he ever had before, cupping his face in his large hands and looking over him with such shock and amazement. He had seen Spencer like this numerous times in the past, but something about that performance shook him to his very core and spread goosebumps across his skin.

“Baby, you were incredible!” He cooed, his arms looped around Spencer’s waist. The two seemed to ignore all that was going on around them, and Reid continued to grin brightly in the dark club, the stage lights having dimmed long ago.

“Thank you,” he said, nearly crying on the spot since he had been so nervous to perform in front of Derek. But instead of messing up horribly like he feared, he had instead performed his heart out and made his lover and himself proud. He hugged Derek tightly around the neck and their lips met in a brief kiss that promised so much more for when they made it home. But Spencer wanted to stay around a little longer, just to have some fun with his friends and introduce them to Derek, and Derek would be a fool to deny him that.

“Hey girls, I’d like you all to meet my man, Derek!” Bria called into the backroom as she led Derek along with her, the man looking both flustered and out of place as he was quickly surrounded by drag queens who cooed at him and even threatened him if he hurt their baby. They spent the majority of the time at a large table in the club, ordering some light bar food and buying drinks for one another until Spencer decided to call it a night, leaving the club with Derek.

As soon as they made it to his house, Derek attacked Spencer with fervent praises and kisses, holding him close and hoisting him up by his haunches, hands gripping and squeezing Reid’s ass still dressed in the form-fitting unitard. He had forgotten how good Spencer’s body looked, and he was almost disappointed in himself for letting that important fact slip his mind.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” Derek purred against Spencer’s neck as he sucked and bit hickeys into his pale skin. Spencer’s head fell back as he moaned, his wig still in place, and if Derek had his way, it wouldn’t be coming off at all that night. He had never fucked Spencer in drag before, and the closer they got the bedroom, the more it was seeming like an intoxicatingly sexy idea.

“Bedroom, Derek,” Spencer begged desperately, grasping onto the back of Derek’s shirt when he kicked the door open with his foot and brought them both inside. He dropped Spencer on the bed, quickly working on undressing himself before Spencer began to do the same, and Morgan laughed quietly with the way he squirmed and wriggled out of the tight fitting unitard, and when he was naked, he was somewhat surprised to see a tan, adhesive material where his lover’s genitals usually were. Spencer looked down sheepishly, pulling up the edge of the T-Tape.

“For tucking,” he explained, and Derek instantly cringed at the idea before Spencer just laughed and carefully pulled off the tape, adjusting himself so that he was untucked and back to his normal state. Derek waited patiently for his lover to prepare, and when Spencer looked at him expectantly with those pretty eyes, he continued where they left off.

He kissed Spencer lovingly and his hands slimmed down his waist and over his hips, sliding inwards to his genitals where he took his lover into his palm and began to stroke. Spencer moaned into Derek’s mouth, and soon enough, he was rock hard and leaking, and when Derek let go of him, his cock lay tall and pulsing against his stomach. Derek leaned over his lover to fetch the bottle of lube in his drawer, popping open the cap and squirting a bit over his hand before his index finger dove right in. He was careful with his lover though, sliding it in and out until Spencer impatiently urged him to hurry up. So one finger became two, and after scissoring open his tight passage, a third slid in along the other two. He fingered Spencer for a few minutes, but Reid eventually grew unsatisfied with that too.

“Just fuck me, Derek,” he begged desperately, his eyes watery and his full, kiss-swollen lips parted and wet. He already looked fucked out, but Derek couldn’t wait to smear that makeup over his pretty face and run his fingers through his false hair.

“As you wish, baby,” Derek complied, pushing Reid’s legs up to his flat chest and positioning himself, his head resting against his puckered entrance. His hands splayed over the backs of Spencer’s thighs, his ankles locking together behind Derek’s neck, and soon enough, he was plunging into that holy channel which drew curses from his lips. Reid lay beneath him, arms above his head clenching into the pillow case while his long hair splayed about across the cream colored sheets.

“Oh, Jesus…” Spencer breathed, biting his glossy bottom lip and moaning in his throat at the sensation of being filled to the brim by his partner. His eyes fluttered close for a minute, and without words, Derek let him adjust until the slight man’s hips jerked a bit beneath him, urging him to go on. Which he did, without hesitation. His hips pulled back and dropped back down, slow at first, but after they set a nice rhythm, Derek sped up. He knew how his baby liked it, and tonight Spencer seemed more frisky than usual. Derek would fuck him into the mattress until he went numb if that’s what he wanted.

“Please, harder…” Spencer whined beneath, quite the chatty bottom, but it was enough to make Derek growl, and Spencer felt a shiver ghost up his spine. Morgan plowed into him until he was speaking in tongues, Spencer’s words no longer making sense and instead only coming out as desperate, high pitched sounds.

“I’m so close, Spencer,” he groaned, his hips never stopping. Derek brought Spencer to release without even laying a hand on him, and soon enough, his lover followed, his warm essence painting his inner walls white. Derek panted, sitting up on his knees and turning his head to kiss over Spencer’s ankle, nuzzling his cheek against his skin.

He scooped up some of Spencer’s release onto his thumb and Spencer eagerly took it into his mouth, sucking and swallowing his own salty release despite the intellectual part of his brain shouting at him for being so unsanitary. But this was a special occasion. Derek pulled his thumb out of Spencer’s mouth and brushed it over his bottom lip, smearing the lipstick intentionally and smirking down at him.

“We should do it like this more often. You’re just so pretty, Angel,” Derek said honestly. Spencer smiled, letting his legs fall to rest on the bed as Derek moved to lay beside him, pulling him into his arms.

“I think I’d like that,” Spencer confessed, and they shared a sweet kiss. Derek’s ran up and down his back and Spencer reached a hand up to slip the wig off, cap soon following until his messy hair was unveiled. Thick, dark fingers instantly began to stroke the wavy locks, running through and unkinking any tangles. Derek soon got up and went to the bathroom, returning with a wet rag to clean up his baby.

“I’m really happy you invited me to your show tonight,” Derek murmured, throwing the towel into the hamper and joining his lover in bed again, their bodies instantly drawing together like magnets beneath the covers.

“Me too,” Spencer admitted, snuggling into Derek’s chest, closing his eyes and feeling more content than he ever had before.

“I love you, baby,” Derek murmured into his hair. Spencer smiled, a leg draping over Morgan’s hip as their naked bodies tangled together.

“I love you too, Derek.”

<-Part 5: Union | Part 7: Origin->

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds writing #spencer reid #derek morgan #Derek Morgan x Spencer Reid #moreid #drag queen Spencer Reid #moreid smut

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booksimp · 4 years ago

Text

Begin Again - Azriel - Part One

Synopsis: Azriel and Alora broke up six months ago. Alora still isn’t sure exactly why Azriel shut her out, and she can’t stand to be in the same room as him. With Nesta’s help, Alora has been avoiding Azriel at group events since the breakup. Inspired by “Into You” by Julia Michaels.

“So he’s gonna be there then?” I whisper into the phone, trying to keep my voice from breaking.

“Actually, the asshole’s already here. I’m sorry, Alora. He was supposed to be away for work until next week.”

Nesta’s voice is hushed, her irritation obvious. I sigh, my breath creating a cloud of ice in the air around me. I stop walking and turn on my heel, heading back the way I’d come. I had been walking to Feyre and Rhysand’s baby shower, gift for their little one in hand. But Azriel, my ex-fiancee, has decided to make an unscheduled appearance. I scowl to myself and shove the wrapped parcel into my coat pocket. Rhys and Feyre are some of my dearest friends, and I was really looking forward to being there today.

“It’s okay, Nesta. I’ll just give Feyre her gift later. Can you tell them I’m sorry, something just… came up?”.”

I sigh again, hating that I have to miss their big day and even worse, lie to them about it. Though I’m sure they see right through it, since Feyre knows every dirty detail about the breakup.

Nesta has been acting as my personal Azriel detector since he and I broke up six months ago. I’m beyond grateful for her help, but I know the responsibility of it is starting to wear on her patience.

“You know you’ll have to be in the same room as him eventually, right? You guys have a lot of friends in common.” Nesta says frankly. I flinch slightly, but I know better than to take her words personally. Nesta is nothing if not painfully forthright.

“I know. I just can’t be in the same room as him and Mor right now. I can’t see how he looks at her.” I pause to shudder, flashing back to the night I’d found them dancing at Rita’s, a mere six weeks after Azriel and I ended. She was all over him, and he was grinning like a fool. I hadn’t seen him smile like that for quite awhile. I suppose I should be happy he found his smile again, even if it wasn’t with me.

“I’ve been thinking of moving back home to San Diego.” I blurt, as if getting it out faster will make it easier. Nesta is one of my best friends, but she still scares the shit out of me. I know she’ll like the idea of me leaving about as much as a bull loves the color red.

For a few beats, Nesta is entirely silent. I chew my lip nervously, bouncing on the balls of my feet as I wait for my turn to use the crosswalk. I’ve lived in Chicago for three years now, since I moved here to pursue a career in publishing. I met Nesta and her sisters almost immediately. Soon after, they introduced me to their friends, and we’ve all been inseparable ever since.

“You’re not actually fucking serious, are you? You can’t just run away because that idiot broke your heart. This is your home.” Nesta growls, and I hear a door shut from her end of the line. Oh shit, she really has something to say if she felt the need to find a more private venue. Nesta isn’t one to hide her outbursts. Seeing as I’m not in the mood to get my ass chewed and spit back out, I retreat. Strategically, of course.

“I’ll let you get back to the baby shower. I have to go anyway.”

Nesta snorts, and I can hear the scowl in her voice.

“Okay, coward. We’ll talk tomorrow, I’m coming over.”

I roll my eyes and pocket my cell phone. If there was ever a way to describe Nesta, its ‘Tough love’. I walk the three blocks to my apartment in a huff, trudging through ankle deep snow all the while. I take my frustration out on fluffy piles of snow, kicking at them as I walk. By the time I’m locking the door behind me, my socks are soaked and I’m shivering despite my massive winter coat. You can take the girl out of California, but you can’t take California out of the girl.

I take a burning hot shower, dress in my warmest pajamas, and I’m curled up in bed in no time. I’m halfway through White Christmas when a text pings on my phone.

Azriel: Nesta says you’re moving back to SD. Can we talk?

Instantly, I’m cold as death beneath my plethora of fluffy Christmas blankets. That all too familiar pang in my chest returns in full force, so insistent that I can’t seem to catch my breath. Without meaning to, I’d read the text in his voice. I haven’t heard his voice in months, but it haunts me, a ghost I can never exorcise. I hear it in my dreams, in crowded rooms, in the harmony of some of our favorite songs. A second text pops up.

Azriel: Please, Alora. I know that you’re seeing this. You can’t keep shutting me out. I’m sorry, okay?

I scoff indignantly, my vision going red. I can’t shut him out? Him? I spent months trying to get him to talk to me, to tell me what was so obviously eating him up inside. Instead of letting me in, he pushed me as far from him as possible. And then, there was The Mor Incident. I knew he’d had a massive crush on her in college, but I thought it was long over. How naive of me.

For weeks after I moved out, Azriel tried to contact me everyday. He would text and call constantly, and ask our friends to get me to talk to him. At first, I was too hurt to respond.I needed my own time and space for a while. And when I saw him with Mor, I decided he’d never get a response from me. I knew what I needed to know. If anyone deserves to be iced out, it's the man who proposed to me and changed his mind about it like he was changing his order at starbucks.

Azriel: Talk to me. What can I do?

I grind my teeth and explode up out of my bed, too angry to even sit still. I pace my bedroom, my stomps probably heard by my downstairs neighbor. What can he do? For shit’s sake, if only he’d asked himself that question six months ago. A deluge of memories flood through my mind, dragging me beneath their frigid depths. Our one sided battles, where I begged and pleaded for him to let me in, and he refused. The nights he slept on the couch, or at Cassian’s. But the one that hurts the most, is the last one.

“Jesus christ, just talk to me! Please, Az. I just need you to talk to me.” I plead, tears running freely down my cheeks.

Azriel keeps his back to me as he hurls clothes into a duffel bag, the muscles of his shoulders tensed to the point of breaking.

“There’s nothing to talk about, Lora.”

His voice, that deep, melodic voice I love so much, is empty. Devoid of all feeling, all the love that used to shine through in every word he spoke to me. My chest feels like he’s cracked it open, and scraped me empty. Stolen all the warmth, all the joy. The fireplace crackles nearby, and yet I don’t feel a lick of its flame.

“There’s everything to talk about! I don’t even know why you’re leaving. You’ve been in pain, but you won’t tell me why. You won’t let me help.” I’m yelling now, but he still hasn’t so much as looked my way. A dark, heartrending thought creeps in.

“ Are-are you leaving me?” The question comes out in a broken whisper. I can hear the heartbreak in my own voice, and he curses under his breath.

Finally, he turns to face me. His face is nearly as empty as his voice, save for the deep purple circles beneath his eyes. Those gorgeous, hazel eyes that are filled with a nameless agony he refuses to share with me. His hair is more tousled than usual, his shirt wrinkled, shoulders slumped. He looks like a man defeated.

“Fuck baby, of course I’m not leaving you. I just- I need some time. To clear my head.”

His eyes finally meet mine for a second, and he reaches for me. His fingers barely brush my cheek before he yanks them away, fisting them at his side.

I’m close on his heels as he storms into the living room, towards the front door.

“But you are, Az. You’re choosing to leave instead of talk to me. We’re supposed to be partners, remember? We're getting married, Az .” I’m desperate now, my voice climbing an octave for every step he takes away from me.

He stops with his hand on the doorknob, looking over his shoulder at me. But he refuses to meet my gaze again. Like he can’t bear to look at me.

“Maybe we shouldn’t.”

His words hit me like a punch to the stomach, and all the breath leaves my body. A trembling begins in my hands. I feel untethered, like a boat abandoned at sea.

“You don’t want to get married?” I rasp, hugging my arms around myself. Cold is seeping into my bones, my chest. I don’t think I’ll ever be warm again.

Azriel struggles for words a few moments longer, a battle raging in the eyes I love most. He turns to me again and I see the tears building in them. I search his face for an explanation, silently begging him. Stay. Please stay. His voice is thick with emotion when he speaks.

“We can talk about it later. I’m gonna stay with Cassian tonight.”

He turns towards the door once more, but I can’t stop myself from asking the question that's been buzzing in my head for weeks.

“Is that really where you’re going, Az?”My voice is clipped, cold to my own ears. He pauses, confusion clear on his face.

“Are you sure there’s not someone else you’re seeing when you ‘go to Cassian’s’ ?” I demand, placing a hand on the dining table to my right.

If he gives me the answer I’m expecting, I may well need the support. Azriel’s face goes blank with shock, and he leans back against the door, not able to stand on his own.

“Jesus, Lor. I’m not fucking cheating on you.” He spits out, as he hoists the duffel bag over his shoulder.

My relief is short lived.

He wrenches the front door open, and the ancient thing groans like it might very well come off its hinges. In that moment, something snaps inside me.

“If you walk out that door, you might as well be leaving me. If you walk out right now, we’re done.”

I expect the words to finally wake him up, to reach where he’s hidden himself away, and bring my Azriel back. The Azriel that planned a picnic for our first date, or ran through the ER with me in his arms when my appendix burst. The Azriel that asked me to marry him, then made love to me under the stars.

But wherever that Az is, he’s far, far away.

“I need to go. I’m sorry, Lor”

After a moment of hesitation, he walks out the door. The sound of it closing like that of the lid of a coffin, sealing me inside. Alone.

I stay up all night, waiting for him to come back. Praying that he comes back. I lay alone in our bed, the sheets suddenly frigid and too abundant. All the extra leg room is a slap in the face. I watch the flames in the fireplace dying as the sun rises. Until all that’s left of that once roaring fire are embers. I watch until those too burn out, and go cold.

I blink, the sound of another message breaking me free of the torturous cycle of memories. I wipe traitorous tears from my cheeks and retrieve my phone from where I discarded it.

Nesta: Hey, I might’ve let slip to Elain that you were thinking of moving home. And of course she told Lucien, who told Azriel. Apparently, he wasn’t pleased. I’m sorry, Lor.

I sigh, type a quick reply and check the time. 9:58pm. Jesus, today has felt like a lifetime. I look around my apartment, at how dark and empty it's become as night has fallen. When I moved in, a week after Az left, I couldn't bring myself to decorate it. Because that would mean that this is home now, and not the house Azriel and I bought together. It would mean that the beautiful victorian in the suburbs was as gone as the life we could’ve lived in it. So, six months later, boxes sit in the corners. The walls are bare, the fireplace unlit even on the coldest of nights. And every night since has been glacial. Suddenly, the loneliness is nearly suffocating. I can’t spend another night just staring at the solitary wasteland my life has become.

All of my friends are together already, and he’s there. So going out alone it is.

I blast music as I get ready in a rush, effectively drowning out every unwanted thought. I go a little heavy on the eyeliner, hopefully concealing any evidence of tears. I slip into my newest dress, gifted to me by Feyre on my birthday. It's the perfect balance of elegant and sexy. A lovely slip of wine colored silk, skin tight and just the right amount of revealing. Looking at myself in the mirror, I smile for the first time all night.

Half an hour later, I’m shooting whiskey at Rita’s, scouring the dance floor for my next conquest. Probably not the healthiest coping mechanism, but I digress. The vast room is dark, the only lights being flashing rainbows of color timed to the music. Thick smoke snakes around the dancers, thanks to a mixture of incense and hidden fog machines. The scent of patchouli, sweat, and alcohol tickles my nose. Peculiarly enough, it's not a bad combination.

As I’m scanning the crowd, nursing a glass of scotch, a pair of unusual green eyes catch my gaze. He’s easily six feet tall, dark haired, and moderately handsome. He’s sitting with his friends, but no longer paying attention to the conversation. Instead, his eyes are shamelessly undressing me, lingering on my exposed legs. When he eventually meets my eyes again, I give him a slow, inviting smile. It only takes him a few moments to cross the bar, and sit on the stool beside mine.

“What’s a beautiful woman like you doing alone on a saturday night?”

I barely restrain an eye roll at his creative opening line. Instead, I lean closer and give him an obvious lookover. He’s definitely fit, his tight black shirt revealing a broad chest and toned abdomen. But I can’t help but note the lack of tattoos and scars. Once I’m done comparing him to Azriel, I meet his eager eyes again.

“I’m not exactly alone now, am I?”

The man smirks, and places a hand on my thigh.

The next morning, I hurry my house guest out the door as soon as he wakes up. He tries to get my number, but I carefully maneuver my way out of that one. The sex was good, but not that good.

I shower and dress, then scarf down a quick breakfast. As I’m drinking my second cup of coffee, I finally look around at my sad excuse of an apartment. It's not that the actual space isn’t nice. The hardwood floors are new and shiny looking, the walls a neutral gray, the countertops a gleaming marble. But like last night, it's overwhelmingly empty.

I take a deep breath and decide today is the day. Hesitantly, I walk to the closest box and start cutting away the packing tape. Each stroke of the scissors is like another nail in the coffin of my old life. I ignore the tears that burn in my eyes and keep cutting. With my heart racing and eyes closed, I reach my hand in and grab the first object I touch. I take three deep breaths in an effort to center myself, and look down at what’s in my hand.

“Oh for fucks sake.” I exclaim, my heart squeezing painfully.

The cellophane wrapped bundle of blank wedding invitations glimmers in the morning sunlight, like the fangs of a poisonous snake. Beautiful, but deadly. With a cry, I hurl the invitations across the room. They land with a satisfying thunk against the far wall. I plop down next to the box, letting my head fall into my hands. The wound in my chest is raw and throbbing, an ever present pain.

Of course it had to be the wedding invitations. It couldn’t be something easy, like a throw pillow or a bunch of CD’s.

I lean my head back against the wall, and let my eyes fall closed. Would this ever stop hurting? Would there come a day where I wake up, and I don’t reach for him?

I’m staring at the box like the dangerous, wicked thing it is when a knock at the door rescues me from my own pity party.

“Thank fuck.” I mutter to myself, eagerly jumping to my feet and practically running to the door. Nesta had said she’d be coming over today, and I thank my lucky stars at her timing. At least this way, I won’t have to unpack my old life alone. Nesta will help me. I’ll cry, she’ll make me laugh, and we’ll get drunk. Very drunk, knowing us. Maybe we’ll call Elain and Feyre. They’ll spend the night, and tomorrow will be easier. I’ll start looking at apartments in San Diego. As I’m opening the door, I take my first easy breath in days.

“Thank god, Nes I need-”

But it isn’t Nesta on the other side of the door. It's Azriel.

“Hey, Lora. Can I come in?”

#acotar #azriel #sarah j. maas #the night court #rhysand #fanfic #azrielfanfic #smut #acotarsmut #acotar fic

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avengerscompound · 5 years ago

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Catch and Release - 6

Catch and Release: A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count: 2000

Rating: M

Square filled: @star-spangled-bingo - Resting a Head on their Shoulder

Warnings: Sex talk, mentions of sex, and threats of violence

Synopsis: When you overexert yourself on a mission with Steve and Bucky, the boys admit to having fantasies that involve you. Fantasies that you share. But with one Super Soldier needs intimacy and the other is still dealing with being touch starved, exploring those desires without anyone catching feelings is a little tricky.

Chapter 6: Reeling Them In

You woke up to the sounds of Steve moving around the room and for a moment you panicked. You sat up and threw up your hands, looking around the room that definitely wasn’t yours. Bucky startled beside you and fell out of the side of the bed, doing a forward somersault and landing ready to lunge. “What the hell? What’s going on?” He said as Steve started laughing.

“Nothing, but that was really entertaining,” Steve answered as he pulled on a compression shirt. “It’s time to get up anyway. We have time for a quick breakfast before we’re needed down at training. And you -” he said nodding in your direction. “- Need to get to physio.”

“Right. Yes.” You said, rolling out of bed.

Bucky ran his hand through his hair. “Do I have time for a shower?”

“Depends on what you want to eat. But we can take one together after training if you like.” Steve said as he disappeared into the bathroom

You wrapped a sheet around you and started collecting up your clothes, wishing you'd considered how awkward it would feel to wake up naked and then need to dress in front of two guys who you weren't in a relationship with before you'd fallen asleep. It was weird. They'd seen you naked. They'd both been inside you, multiple times. But now the sun was up and they were Bucky and Steve again. Your friends, not your lovers. Worse than that. They are Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes. And you were naked.

Plus your cunt ached from last night. And you had hickeys on your breasts and inside your thighs. Probably your neck too but you hadn't seen yourself yet to assess the damage. And you were going to have to do the walk of shame back to your apartment in your clothes from last night and change because there was no way you could go to physio in the black lace thong, push up bra and cocktail dress you'd worn here in the first place.

You started to dress while continuing to attempt an iota of modesty.

“You like blueberries in your pancakes?” Bucky asked as he started getting dressed into sweats.

“Who me?” You asked.

Bucky laughed. “Yeah, you. I’ve known Steve likes blueberries for a while now.”

“I’m staying for breakfast?” You asked.

“You don’t have to. But… yes?” Bucky said. “What’s happening right now?”

“I just… have to shower and change and I don’t have clothes here.” You said.

Steve appeared again and tapped his watch. “Running out of time if you want pancakes.”

“Right. You talk to her. I’m putting blueberries in them.” Bucky said, dashing out of the room as he pulled on a t-shirt.

Steve looked over at you as you stood, shimmying back into the dress. “Did something happen?”

“Bucky asked me to stay for breakfast.” You said.

Steve looked at you with an expression of confusion written on his face. “And?”

“I just wasn’t expecting it. And I gotta get ready.” You said, turning around. “Can you zip me up?”

Steve stepped up behind you and placed his hand on the middle of your back to hold the fabric in place as he slid the zip up. “You have more time than us to get ready. So you don’t have to worry. There’s no obligation though. If you’re feeling uncomfortable after last night…”

You let out a breath. “I guess… it was just weird. We haven’t woken up together like that before. It’s always just wham-bam-thank you, fellas. Talk later. And then later we’re back to just friends. But I don’t sleep naked with any other friends.” You shook your head. “Sorry, I feel like I’m making it worse because I’m having trouble explaining it.”

Steve opened his arms to you and you moved into them, letting him engulf you in a hug. You rested your head on his shoulder and breathed him in. He still had the faint smell of sex, though you could tell he’d tried to cover it. The scent of soap and sweat and old spice didn’t quite mask it. “I understand,” he said gently. “I wake up early to take a run before training. This morning I kept thinking I was glad you were still asleep so I could change without worrying about trying to cover up.”

You laughed. “Man. Gonna have to try and not do the sleepover thing, huh?”

“We’ll figure out what works for us,” Steve said, rubbing your back. “I know this isn’t really the same thing, but when Bucky and I finally admitted that maybe we wanted to be more than friends, everything was awkward. We grew up together and now suddenly we’re kissing and sharing a bed and we’re having to figure out what we like and when we’re both ready for it. We were apologizing to each other for stupid things like walking in when one of us was changing when before we were a couple we just changed in front of each other. But if we keep doing this - which maybe we won’t - but if… we’ll work it out. Just gotta accept that sometimes it’s going to be awkward because it’s not how it usually is.”

“You’re so wise, Steve,” you said, playfully.

“Don’t say it like that, it makes me sound old,” Steve said, pulling back and looking down at you with his hands on your arms.

“You are old, grandpa,” you teased. “So breakfast?”

“Do you want some of Bucky’s pancakes? They are his specialty.”

You nodded. “Well, how can I refuse that?”

The three of you ate together and the awkwardness you had been feeling dissipated. By the time you all headed out to the elevator to start the day it was just back to being the same old friends dynamic you had always shared with them.

The elevator doors slid open to reveal Clint leaning against the back wall. He nodded to the three of you and then startled, jumping up so he was standing to attention.

“Clint,” Steve said getting on the elevator. “Nice to see you on time for a change.”

You hit the number for your floor as everyone turned and faced the doors.

“I’m not, Cap. You’re late.” He said.

“You’re still on daylight savings time, dumbass,” Bucky said.

“Aww, man,” Clint whined, leaning back against the wall again. “I could have slept in.”

There was a tap on your shoulder and you leaned back to see Clint looking at you with his eyebrows raised. ‘Did you…?’ he mouthed, gesturing to Steve and Bucky.

You bit your bottom lip and winked at him.

“Nice,” Clint said.

“What was that?” Steve asked as the elevator stopped on your floor.

“Oh, nothing. Just thinking about coffee.” Clint joked and held his fist out to you. You bumped it as you got off the elevator. “See you guys later.”

“Good luck with your physio,” Bucky called as the doors closed.

You went and showered and changed into your workout clothes before heading down to physio. It went as well as expected considering how bowlegged you were walking today. When you got back to your apartment you found Natasha sitting on your kitchen bench slicing up a mango with a knife, nearly giving you a heart attack.

“Jesus Christ, Nat!” You cursed. “Just let yourself in!”

“I will, thank you,” Natasha said, flipping one cheek of the fruit inside out and biting a piece of flesh from it. “Clint told me he saw you doing the walk of shame this morning.”

“Stride of Pride, more like it.” You said going to your fridge grabbing a Gatorade from the fridge and opening it.

“So it’s true? You did tell him you’ve been sleeping with Steve and James?” Natasha asked, slipping off the counter.

“Well, technically I winked at him. But essentially, yes.” You said.

“You do realize that everyone knows now? How do you think that’s going to make them look? Or you for that matter?” Natasha snapped.

“Like a couple of studs and one lucky bitch?” You deadpanned.

“Steve Rogers is Captain America! You think it’s just okay for rumors to be spread around like that? How do you think he’s going to take it when he finds out you told Clint?” She said.

“Go ahead, tell him.”

“You think I won’t?” She said, getting out her phone. “You think I’m going to protect you here?”

“Tell him, Nat. He said he doesn’t care if people know.” You said.

She started dialing her phone as she glared at you. “You want to play chicken with me? I’m going to tell him.”

You shrugged and sipped your drink.

“So this is just a big joke to you?” Natasha said, slamming her phone onto the counter. You wanted to laugh. She was trying so hard not to yell. It was like she’d entered some weird mom mode you’d never seen before and she was a moment away from grounding you.

“Natasha! What’s the big deal? We slept together. We’re adults. We decided to have a little fun. Like you’ve never had a threesome before.” You said.

“Oh slept together? Like one time? And those two other times you did it were just coincidence and this isn’t becoming a habit?” Natasha snarked.

“Jesus! Natasha!” You yelped. “It was actually only twice if you must know. Though I guess it depends how you count it, cause last night, it was so many times… I’m still hurting.”

She narrowed her eyes at you, letting you know that it didn’t matter how many times you made a joke of this, she was dead serious.

You sighed and took a long drink from your bottle, the room falling into an icy silence. “Bucky and Steve wanted to try some stuff out. I liked the sound of it. We’ve just been messing around. It’s fine. We’re adults. We can fuck each other every which way we want. We’re allowed.”

“You forget I know those men. You know how many people I tried to set Steve Rogers up with? He doesn’t just sleep around. And James! The shit James has been through!” She said, folding her arms over her chest.

“Oh. My. God! Natasha Alianova Romanova! Assassin and graduate of the Widow Program! This is the shovel talk! You, of all people, are giving me the shovel talk?!” You teased. “See, I would have expected Sam might do it if anyone was going to. But you? I can’t believe it. We’re being careful. We’re communicating what we need. We’re just having some fun. No one is accidentally falling in love and getting hurt.”

Natasha scowled and pulled herself up to her full height, puffing out her chest. “You know as well as I do that if Steve Rogers is sleeping with you, he’s already caught feelings.”

“Nat, just tell me to not hurt your friends or you’ll kill me and get it over with.” You huffed.

She narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips breathing heavily through her nose. All at once she completely relaxed and shook her head. “Well don’t or I will.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you said. “They’re my friends too and we’re being careful. They just had some things they wanted to explore and they trust me to do it with. We’re being very communicative and I promise, Steve said he didn’t care if people found out. That we weren’t breaking any rules and none of us was a dirty little secret. Okay?”

“Fine.” She huffed.

“You want lunch?” You asked going back to your fridge.

“Thanks. That’d be good.” She said.

“You owe me a mango, by the way. Those things are expensive.” You said as you began pulling things out of the fridge.

“Consider it payment for the fucking heart attack I had when Clint came running up to me at training with his ‘guess what’. I think I aged 80 years.”

You chuckled and started making lunch deciding not to mention the heart attack she gave you by lurking in her kitchen canceled that out. You might have pressed your luck with Nat already today.

// NEXT

#SSB2020 #steve rogers #bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #stucky #steve rogers x bucky barnes #stucky x reader #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #captain america fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #catch and release #reeling them in

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softlass27 · 4 years ago

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Aaron Week Day 5: “You tricked me!”

AO3 link here

Aaron Dingle is not a cat person. He has never been a cat person – give him a happy, energetic dog he can play fetch with any day.

So why won’t this furry little shit leave him alone?

One evening a few weeks ago, he’d been sat in his living room, minding his own business, when he looked up from his NME magazine to see an orange face watching him from his balcony.

Letting out a startled yelp that he was glad no one heard, Aaron had stared at the ginger tabby cat in the doorway. The cat had stared back. Aaron narrowed his eyes. The cat narrowed its eyes right back at him.

Shaking his head, he’d tilted the magazine a little higher so that he blocked his view of the fur ball outside. By the time he’d finished reading it, he lowered the pages to see an empty balcony. The cat was gone. He forgot all about it.

Until the next evening. It had been warmer that night, and Aaron had left the balcony door open for a cooling breeze. He’d been pottering about in the kitchen, making himself some beans on toast, when he heard a quiet “mrow” behind him.

“What the – ”

Aaron had whirled around to see the same ginger tabby – at least he thought it was the same ginger tabby – sitting innocently on the floor behind him.

“What the hell d’you think you’re doing?”

The cat licked a paw primly.

“You don’t live here, get out.”

Nothing.

Aaron sighed, dropping the tins of beans on the counter before gingerly picking the cat up, praying it didn’t have fleas, and putting it out on the balcony. As he quickly slid the door shut behind him, the cat looked at him with an outraged expression on its face.

“I see that collar round your neck, go to your own home!”

Instead the cat rolled to its side, putting on a real show of stretching out languidly and making itself comfortable. Essentially a massive fuck you right to Aaron’s face.

Aaron snorted. “Whatever.”

So now he’s got himself in a situation where this ginger nightmare appears on his balcony every day without fail. Always staring at Aaron, giving him grief and trying to mess with his head. It’s a little like having a tiny, fluffy stalker.

The point of no return comes on the day the damn thing learns how to open the sliding balcony door by itself (the lock broke months ago and he hasn’t gotten around to doing anything about it), and Aaron comes out of his bedroom to see it sitting in the kitchen sink. It hisses when Aaron tries to move it, and Aaron very nearly hisses back.

Despite his less-than welcoming attitude, the thing never takes the hint, returning over and over again.

“Why me, eh?” Aaron asks as he scratches the animal behind the ears one day (probably a mistake). “All the flats you could go to in this building, why’s it my doorstep you darken?”

Aaron trudges through the entrance to his building one Friday night, shaking rainwater out of his hair. It's been a week of long shifts at the garage where he works, topped off with the day from hell, one stupid customer after another coming through like the place had a revolving door.

Adam texted him earlier, trying to get him to come on a night out, and his mother’s also been trying to get him to come to the village for his tea, but he’s ignoring them both. All he wants to do is get into his flat, collapse on his bed and sleep for at least twelve hours.

As he walks up the stairs to his floor, he hears a familiar arrogant voice coming from above him, and mentally curses. The last thing he wants to do is run into Tall Blond Arsehole right now, but there’s no escape route.

Tall Blond Arsehole had moved into a flat on the floor above Aaron’s a few weeks ago – the penthouse. The first time Aaron had seen him, the bloke had been on his phone and been coming into the building just as Aaron was leaving. He’d been walking at top speed and had bumped Aaron had on the shoulder as they had passed each other.

“Watch where you’re goin’,” Aaron had grumbled, just loud enough for the man to hear him.

The man barely paused, throwing a quick glare over his shoulder and snapping “You watch it, mate.” before returning to his phone conversation and disappearing up the stairs.

They hadn’t spoken since that morning, and that suited Aaron just fine. Tall Blond Arsehole doesn’t seem to talk to anyone in the building, always on that bloody phone yelling at some poor sod named Jimmy, nattering on about contracts, deals and meetings. Nothing more than a boring businessman with an over-inflated sense of his own importance.

(He’s also incredibly fit, but that’s by the by.)

Now, Tall Blond Arsehole comes breezing down the flight of stairs, dressed in one of his usual sharp suits and barely sparing Aaron a glance as he passes by him. Aaron rolls his eyes, before continuing up the stairs and practically falling through the door to his flat.

He shuffles down the hallway to his bedroom, not even stopping to take his hoodie and jeans off before collapsing on top of the covers.

“Mrrrp.”

Aaron’s eyes fly open instantly and he rips the duvet back to reveal a curled up orange ball.

“Are you kidding me?” He shoots the cat an incredulous look. “My bed now?”

The demonic creature just uncurls and glares at him, as if Aaron’s the one who invaded its space, rather than the other way around.

“How did you even – you know what, fuck it. M’too knackered to give a shit. Do whatever you want.”

He slides under the duvet and lets his eyes fall shut. A few moments later, he feels slight movement next to him, and then soft warmth pressing against him. He falls asleep with the cat purring against his chest.

He awakes to knocking at the door. Blearily opening his eyes, Aaron realises that it’s much later now, the room pitch black. Too late to move.

Determined to ignore the noise – whatever the hell this person wants will have to wait – he rolls over until his face hits something soft and fluffy.

“Jesus Christ!” He jerks up and fumbles to switch the lamp on, the low light revealing the ginger nightmare still lying in his bed. “Oh God, you’re still here.”

The cat paws at the strings of Aaron’s hoodie, seemingly unconcerned by the fact it had nearly given him a heart attack. The knocking at the door starts up again. It’s louder this time and a quick glance at his phone tells him it’s nearly two o’clock in the bloody morning. For fuck’s sake.

Aaron staggers out into the living room and flings the door opening roughly, ready to tell whoever it is exactly where to go, only to find Tall Blond Arsehole standing in front of him.

He looks different to usual, smart clothes swapped for a soft-looking blue t-shirt and grey pair of jogging bottoms. His hair has lost its neat style, sticking up in all directions as if he’d been running his fingers through it, and instead of looking cocky, his entire being seems to be full of panic and distress.

“Uh… ” The furious words Aaron had been about to bark die on his throat, and he vaguely wonders if he’s still asleep and this is just part of some weird dream.

“Oh… it’s you,” the man says, a hint of awkwardness creeping in his expression.

“Er, yeah. What’s up?”

“Um, I’m sorry, I know it’s really late… ”

“It’s okay,” Aaron finds himself saying without meaning to. Christ, he must be going soft.

“I’m just… I’m looking for my cat. He’s a ginger tabby, has a blue collar and I can’t find him anywhere. Have you seen him by any chance?”

That little fucker.

Aaron grabs the man’s arm and pulls him into the living room.

“Wait here a sec.”

Aaron jogs back to his bedroom and picks up the cat, who rubs its head under his chin (probably thinks it’s getting a cuddle), and returns to the living room.

“Pippin!” Tall Blond Ars – okay, maybe just Tall Blond for now – gasps, taking the cat from Aaron’s arms and cuddling him to his chest. “You absolute demon.”

The cat – Pippin – yowls loudly, its head turning to Aaron with a look he can only identify as betrayal. The damn thing barely reacts when Tall Blond fusses over him happily, stroking his fur with a thumb and pressing relieved kisses to his head.

Tall Blond finally looks up at him with shining eyes, and Aaron swears he feels his heart skip a beat. Shit.

“I’m – God, I’m really sorry. I didn’t know where – I thought he might’ve – ” he rambles quickly, cradling the cat like a baby, and Aaron wonders how long his neighbour has been frantically searching for his pet demon. “I know he likes to go walkabout, but he hasn’t come home in days and… Sorry if he’s been a bother.”

Aaron frowns. “What? Days? No, he was just… oh.” His eyebrows raise in surprise. “He normally just comes and goes, lets himself out. I haven't been home much these last few days, I didn’t realise he’d been staying.”

His gaze drifts down to Pippin, who now looks impossibly smug. “You tricked me, you little stowaway!”

Pippin sneezes unapologetically.

They stand there awkwardly for a moment, before Aaron asks, “Pippin? Cute name. Doesn’t fit him at all.”

Tall Blond's face twitches into a smile. It makes his eyes crinkle in a way that has Aaron’s stomach doing somersaults, and Jesus Christ, how had he not noticed those freckles before?

“Yeah, it’s er… it’s from Lord of the Rings.”

“Oh. Never seen it.”

“You’ve never – ” Tall Blond’s eyes widen, scandalised. “You’re missing out.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“Well, thanks for having him over… even if you didn’t know it? And sorry again.”

“S’no bother. At least now I know who to call when he knocks my plants off the windowsill.”

The smile drops off the man’s face and he looks down at Pippin.

“Pip, mate!” He scolds Pippin like he’s a naughty child, and the cat meows back at him angrily. “What the hell, we talked about this!”

It’s ridiculous. This attractive man and his argumentative cat are both ridiculous, and Aaron can’t help laughing slightly hysterically.

“Oh God, I’m sorry. Again. How much do I owe you?”

“Mate, don’t worry about it.” Aaron waves away the man’s protest. “Honestly, I don’t care, they were just some cheap B&Q ones my mum forced me to get. Said my place needed brightening up or summat. Glad to have an excuse to be rid of them, if I’m honest, I’m hopeless at keeping plants alive.”

“Okay, if you’re sure… ” He still doesn’t look happy, though. “Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”

The words fly out of his mouth before Aaron can stop them. “Buy me a pint if you like?”

The man blinks at him, before his mouth curls into a small (flirtatious?) smile. “A pint it is.”

“Okay. Great. Uhm, I’m Aaron, by the way,” Aaron smiles back as he opens the door so they can step into the corridor.

“Oh. Robert.” He gestures to the squirming cat. “And you know Pippin.”

“Good to finally have a name for him, I’ve just been calling him ginger nightmare most of the time.” He decides not to share what he’d been calling Robert up until now.

Robert's surprised laugh echoes loudly in the hallway and he presses a fist to his mouth to muffle it. Aaron looks at him, helplessly fond, and can’t help but wonder how the man he’s been silently hating for weeks on end and this man giggling in his pyjamas can possibly be the same person.

“I dunno, that’s pretty accurate,” Robert says eventually, still chuckling. “Well, I… should let you sleep. And thanks again, I know this was a bit… ”

“Random?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s okay.”

“So can I… pick you up tomorrow night for that drink? Around seven?”

“I’ll be here.”

“Great. Night, then.”

Aaron nods, watching Robert walk towards the staircase. They smile at each other one last time, and Robert disappears upstairs, Pippin’s meows still faintly audible.

Before he goes back to bed, Aaron spends twenty minutes scrolling through his phone for the best cat toy he can find. He owes Pippin a thank you present.

#a fluffy one after yesterday's angst!#robron #my writing #aaronweek2020

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limjaeseven · 5 years ago

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Queen Of Hearts

Pairing: Jimin X Reader ft. Jaebum

Genre: Smut

Word count: 8,276

Summary: Being the biggest pornstar in the industry, your company hands you the yearly special valentine's Day project. Each year you work with a new budding star and this year's one is particularly famous for his pretty face and perky ass.

Jimin is an up and coming pornstar who lands the biggest project of his life and the opportunity to work (or fuck) his biggest inspiration, you.

Warnings: switch!reader, switch!Jaebum, sub!Jimin, dom!Yoongi, dom!Jackson, shameless smut, pegging, name calling, mommy kink, sir kink, mistress kink, threesome, polyamorous relationship, bondage, spanking, sex toys, punishments, sex work, porn industry etc.

[a/n]: I apparently love piling work on myself cause I literally had no time to finish this so apologies if it's terrible. The title has no correlation to the fic, I just couldn't think of anything. Hope you enjoy over 8k words of pure, shameless smut.

"Cut" The director shouted and signalled to wrap up the shoot. Jinyoung rushed to you with a bathrobe, a bottle of batter and pack of wet wipes as you shook hands with your costar of the day. Your company had been wanting you to experiment a bit more in the BDSM space as you grew to be one of the most popular and loved porn stars in the adult industry.

"Thank you, Jinnie" You said as you chugged the bottle of water and cleaned yourself up. You couldn't help but stare at Jackson's ass as he walked to his own manager who helped him clean up. Jackson Wang was an up and coming star, one who had been recruited by your company when he was gaining popularity as a camboy, and was an excellent submissive. The best part about him was he looked like such a dominant but was a total baby boy at heart.

The scene was pretty simple, it was a mommy Dom, baby boy scene with a lot of edging and sounding and teasing. The sound of Jackson begging was just so pleasing to your ears. Jackson was actually more popular in the gay porn genre but had agreed to work on the project as soon as he found out you were his costar. You see, working with you is a one way ticket to success and no one wanted to pass up on it.

"See anything you like?" Jackson cooed. It was a running joke amongst the actors to say the cheesy pick up line whenever someone was caught admiring their bodies. You glanced at Jinyoung who was also staring at Jackson's ass and smirked.

"Not really but I'm sure Jinyoungie here things your ass is cute" Jinyoung choked on the water he was drinking as his face turned red and both Jackson and you burst out laughing. The fact of the matter was, it wasn't you who had requested for Jackson, it was Jinyoung. Your manager had a not-so-subtle crush on the actor and just wanted an opportunity to ogle at the man's naked body, live.

"Aww really? Tell 'Jinyoungie' over here that I'm taking him out for lunch tomorrow at 12 and also remind him to give his number to Youngjae over there. Also let him know that if he actually ever wanted a show, he should ask me for it cause I'd give it to him free of charge" Jackson said, winking before pointing at his manager. As soon as the man turned away, you received a slap to your arm.

"Ouch" You murmured as Jinyoung lectured you for a minute about how inappropriate that was but you just smirked at him and called Youngjae over for him to take Jinyoung's number. You headed to your green room and changed into normal clothes before checking your emails.

As soon as you saw the words 'Valentine's project 2020' a smile bloomed on your face. You opened the mail to see the usual paragraph telling you that you were going to be the female lead in the three part project. Under the heading of costar was the name 'Park Jimin'. Park Jimin was a little bit of a legend amongst the actors in your industry.

The 20-something year old boy had started off as a camboy just like Jackson and ended up being scouted by you company for a competition that it held every year in which amateurs competed to create a single video that would get the most number of views. Jimin had won that year with the widest margin in the 8 year long history of the event.

You would be lying if you said that you hadn't looked up the man before out of curiosity. He was really good looking, maybe not as good looking as some of your other costars, but he still had really pretty lips and he had a cute ass. You had watched a few of his cam videos and you found them amusing. As a pornstar, you had seen your fair share of adult videos but Jimin had such an innocent charm to him that he almost made it feel like you totally weren't watching him jerk off.

You had a few shoots before the Valentine's shoot so you called Jinyoung up the next day to ask him for the scripts. When he picked up the call though, you could feel something weird on the other side of the line. Jinyoung was panting, his heavy breathing clear through the phone. You suddenly sat up, worried about your manager's health.

"Jinyoung? Are you okay?" You asked, your voice full of concern. You started imagining the worst case scenarios. Did Jinyoung hey in trouble? Was he sick? Your mind was racing when Jinyoung cleared his throat, pulling you out of your head. He knew you well enough to hear your cogs turning from the other side of the phone.

"I'm alright, y/n, just a little busy. Is it something important?" Jinyoung asked. You suddenly heard a loud sound from Jinyoung that sounded weird. Was he moaning? You heard a lot of squelching and finally put two and two together.

"Are you with Jackson?" You asked, amused. You could feel Jinyoung blushed as he choked out a 'yes'. You pulled the phone away from your ear and hit 'record' on the call. A familiar voice spoke from Jinyoung's end.

"Hey y/n, we're actually in the middle of something, can Jinyoungie talk to you later?" You chuckled at Jinyoung and asked him to not pick up the call the next time he was fucking on of your coworkers. You cut the call and laughed loudly before texting Jinyoung the audio clip from the call. You officially had blackmail material on your best friend, you thought.

You headed over to Jinyoung's office which was right next to yours, to find the scripts for the shoots. Park Jinyoung, being the absolutely meticulous man he was, had a folder on his desks labelled 'scripts' and inside the scripts for your films were arranged in the order of shoots.

You picked up the top three and were about to leave when you saw a note on Jinyoung's desk. It looked like the noted he usually wrote down while taking on the phone. Reading through it, you realised it was about a concept discussion for the Valentine's Day project.

Usually, as part of the project, a single film was shot but that year, they were planning a three parter. The date for the meeting for discussion was written on the paper which was about three weeks from that day so you decided to come up with some concepts of your own for the shoot.

Meanwhile, you worked on your other shoots. The first one was with your best friend Yoongi. He was one of the only men you liked being submissive to. He was really hot, with his lean body and sharp eyes. His deep voice both taunted and praised you as in the scene you were supposed to be bratty and you would be trained by your dominant.

Working with Yoongi was always a pleasure. Over the years, you both had built a perfect chemistry. He knew your body at the back of his hand and you knew all his buttons and when to push them. It showed on camera as well and that was one of the reasons why you two were one of the industry's most well loved duo.

The set was fairly simple-a bedroom with red walls and black sheets. Both of you preferred darker aesthetics so it was on brand. Harnesses and cuffs all make of steel and leather. A few floggers decorated the walls along with a spiked paddle. You were tied to the bed, dressed in a black soft corset with your hands above your head and your legs spread apart, fastened to the bedposts.

The shoot went pretty smoothly and before you knew it, Jinyoung was, as usual, running over to you with a robe and a bottle of water. He looked a little distracted lately. He had been constantly birdied in his phone and was always a bit lost which was totally unlike Jinyoung.

"Who are you texting?" You enquired. Seeing the way his cheeks turned red, you figured it must have been Jackson. They had hit it off pretty well, at least that's what you assumed because Jinyoung wasn't a guy who would have sex on the first date but he did. You loved teasing him about Jackson, loving the way he got flustered everytime you mentioned the Chinese man.

"Jackson really can't back off now that he's gotten a taste of your cute ass, huh? Classy, prim and proper Park Jinyoung falling for bad boy Jackson Wang's big dick, who would have thought that was possible?" You commented and Jinyoung threw his almost empty water bottle at you as you laughed.

"He's a nice guy okay? His big dick is just a bonus. I'm just mad you got a taste before I did" Jinyoung said.

"But wasn't it you who scheduled the shoot because you were busy drooling over his cock on screen and wanted to do it in real life? Jesus Christ, stop blaming me for things that you got me to do" You replied and Jinyoung shot you his iconic death glare.

The next shoot was with Kim Taehyung. It was your first time working with him as his genre was quite different from yours. He was known for his signature art film feel to his work. You had never delved into that market but when he requested you to be his costar, you were quite intrigued and decided to give it a shot.

The film was actually one that the man had been planning for a while as the center point for his multipart series. It started off Taehyung sitting in front of a canvas, dressed in nothing but a long trench coat and you kneeling on the floor between his legs, cockwarming him. As you slowly grew impatient, you were to morph it into a proper blowjob, followed by passionate love making involving some amount of random body painting in the middle.

It was surprisingly easy to understand Taehyung's vision for the film. You just followed his rythm and it turned out better than you expected. Due to the film being super artsy, there were no dialogues meaning the only sounds were those of moans, grunts and skin against skin. Fortunately Taehyung's baritone was more than enough to compansate for the lack of words.

When the shoot was over, you weren't greeted by Jinyoung but instead, Jungkook, another manager in the company helped you get dressed. When you asked him why Jinyoung didn't come, he passed you a note that he had given Jungkook, saying that there was an important event that he couldn't miss and asked him to fill in.

"Hey y/n, sorry for being unable to accompany you for the shoot. Jackson's having some problems with the company and he's having dinner with his boss to discuss his future prospects in the industry and he really needed some moral support so he asked me to accompany him and I just couldn't say no. Also I know the script for the next shoot doesn't have your costar's name on it and that was on purpose. Check your recent texts and you'll find out who it is. I'll see you tomorrow, dinner is on me. Love, Jinyoung" The note said.

You checked your phone to see a text from Jinyoung and one from an unknown number. You checked Jinyoung's text first and it was just to check up on you and ask about the shoot along with an additional apology. You sent him a quick text telling him that the shoot went well and that he needed to stop apologizing, saying that you didn't mind. You sent an extra text last minute to tell him to say hello to Jackson before checking the other text that almost made you drop your phone.

"I'm shooting with THE Lim Jaebum, are you actually kidding me?" You exclaimed as you are dinner with Jinyoung in his living room he next day. Jaebum had been your biggest inspiration/celebrity crush ever since you joined the industry. He was the biggest male star and it was next to impossible, even for you, to get a shoot with him.

"I got a call from his manager two weeks ago asking for any date that you were free on because apparently, Jaebum had been keeping an eye on you for a while and finally decided it was time to work with you" You couldn't believe what Jinyoung was saying. The shock that had set it when you read the text saying "Good evening, I am Kim Namjoon, Mr Lim Jaebum's manager and I just wanted to confirm that you are infact available to shoot on the 4th?"

The day of the actual shoot you were so nervous that you had Bambam, your close friend and fashion designer, style you. When you reached the studio, you met with the director who guided you to the changing room. You slipped into your outfit which was compromised of a black lace lingerie set along with matching stockings and garters. A sheer black wrap completed the look along with strong eye makeup.

You stepped out to be met with the cold air conditioning which made you shiver. You suddenly felt warmth enveloping you as someone placed a jacket on your shoulders. You turned behind to see Jaebum dressed in a white Valentino t-shirt, black slacks, a Gucci blazer, a Chanel belt and Louboutin dress shoes. His hair was down, his bangs covering his forehead. He looked like a million bucks and if you weren't quick enough, he would have definitely have caught you drooling.

"Pretty cold, isn't it?" He said and you dumbly nodded. Before you could embarrass yourself, you heard Jinyoung call your name and you stepped away from Jaebum and walked over to your manager. He showed you the set and finalised things with the crew before you were told to get on the bed to start the shoot.

The set had a king size bed with an intricately carved wooden headboard and emerald green sheets. The walls were a light grey and were decorated with simple sconces which gave the dull set a bit of warm yellow light. You sat at the edge of the bed waiting for Jaebum. You heard the director shout 'action' and your costar calmly walked towards you, his hands in his pockets. He placed his hand on your chin and pulled it up to make you look him in the eyes.

"You know why we have to do this right?" Jaebum said and you nodded. He let his hands slide down to your sides, running them up your arms. He told you to go ahead and you palmed him through his trousers. He hissed as you unbuckled his pants and took his already hard cock into your mouth. From the get go he controlled the pace, twisting his fingers into your hair and throat fucking you.

It was without a doubt the best shoot of your life. Jaebum was such a sweetheart on set. During breaks, he made sure to take your feedback to improve when you two got back on, when you were doing close up shots, he made sure you were comfortable with the angle and he touched you softly even when he was in character to ground you. You were about to go full fangirl on him but fortunately you had Jinyoung to keep you same.

After the shoot, Jaebum invited you to his greenroom once you got changed into normal clothes. He had already asked his manager to get you both some drinks and snacks. He ended up getting your favourite tea along with some of your favourite snacks. When you asked him how he knew what you liked, he openly told you that he had asked Jinyoung.

"I had a lot of fun today, y/n. I hope we get to work together again" Jaebum said.

"Do you say that to all your costars? Do you pamper all of them like this?" You asked and Jaebum chuckled. His eyes became thin lines as his smile grew and his beautiful laugh filled your ears.

"As a matter of fact, no I don't usually do this. You are actually the first person to get this treatment" Jaebum confessed, his eyes wavering almost as if he was nervous. You couldn't believe your ears. You had never imagined Jaebum to be shy, you'd always imagined him to be confident and smooth but this side of him made you more comfortable around him.

"Really? I don't believe it. You'd have to take me out for coffe to prove that to me" You said, winking at him. You actually had no clue if this was going to go anywhere so you decided to give it a shot yourself. If he was to reject you, it would be fine but you were not going to pass up an opportunity to go one a date with your biggest inspiration.

"You had to beat me to it, didn't you. I was just about to ask if you'd ever be free for coffee but you had ruin everything. Give me your phone so that I can give you my number first at least" He said before unlocking his own phone and passing it to you. You have him your phone and you both quickly entered in each others contact details into the respective phones. You quietly snapped a cute selfie and saved the contact.

When you got your phone back, you realised that Jaebum also had gotten a similar idea and there was a adorable picture of him as his contact image. You bid him adieu after he promised to text you because you had a long day ahead of you the next day. It was the day of the meeting to finalise the Valentine's project.

You dressed yourself in a white shirt and grey suit for the meeting. After a few hours of discussing the possible concepts, three were finalised, one that you suggested, one that Jimin suggested and one that the company wanted to make.

Speaking of Jimin, the first thing you noticed about him was his ass. It wasn't your fault, when you walked into the conference hall, Jimin was reaching across the table for a pen, leaving his ass on table for your eyes. He had a really pretty face too, with pillowy lips and soft eyes.

His sweet voice sounded as if it were laced with honey and he had an almost angelic feel to him. But as pure as Jimin looked, he was just as kinky. He was the one who suggested the more out of the box, kinky concepts. He was clearly a submissive though, and he made it clear that he would prefer not to dom.

The first shoot was of the concept he came up with which was supposed to be a simple one to ease the viewers into the mini series. It basically was that you and Jimin were a couple who just wanted to explore sexually and Jimin, who usually was the dominant one in the relationship, asked you to dominate him.

Since it was such a concept, Bambam, whom you'd requested to help you with the styling for the project, styled you with a pair of denim shorts, a crop top, fishnets and calf high boots. Underneath, you wore baby pink lingerie. Your hair and makeup was done by Bambam's boyfriend Jungkook. He curled the ends of your hair and did light makeup as it was going to get messed up once the shoot started.

The set looked like a plain bedroom with a bed with baby blue sheets and blue and while decide around the room. The director spoke to you, getting your final opinions about the angles and everything before you were asked if you were ready to begin. You nodded and Jimin stepped onto the set before the director shouted 'action'.

"Hey baby, you said you wanted to talk about something?" You asked Jimin, putting on an innocent tone and looking him in the eyes. He patted at his thigh, motioning you to sit down. You sat on said thigh with your legs between his. Taking a moment, you admired his outfit which comprised of a plain white button up, a skinny black tie and black slacks. The look, though simple, really suited Jimin's pale skin and pretty face.

"You know how we always try to experiment with new things right? I was wondering if you'd be willing to, you know.. top?" He said, trying his best to look shy. You cupped his face with one hand as you recalled the script for your next line. You placed a soft kiss on his nose before smiling.

"If you want me to, we can try. Strip and lay back on the bed for me, baby" You said and Jimin quickly scrambled to take his clothes off before settling onto the pillows. You threw your crop top off before undoing the button and zip of your shorts but left them on.

Crawling into the bed, you threw one leg overe Jimin, straddling his waist. You worked quickly to undo the buttons of Jimin's shirt and he raised his torso to let you throw it off his body. Soft fingers skimmed his taught abs as you positioned yourself over them. Leaning over, you grabbed the tie that Jimin had discarded.

You grabbed his wrists and fastened them to the headboard with the tie. Lowering yourself over Jimin, you placed a chaste kiss on his lips before diving in for a deeper one. Tounges danced as you felt the sparks go off in your head. You pulled away from his face before littering his neck with small kisses. Jimin let out a gasp as you mouthed at his nipple.

You circled the hardened bud with your wet tongue before sucking on it, going back and forth between both nipples. As per the script, you started grinding your clothed core against Jimin's midriff, making him whine. You quickly pushed off of him to take your shorts off before placing both palms flat on Jimin's chest and grinding shamelessly against his hard abs.

"Baby please don't tease" Jimin whined and you smirked at him. Pushing yourself lower, you stopped so that your core was right over his clothed erection and grinded hard. A soft moan escaped Jimin's lips as you continue your ministrations. You played with his nipples ones more, before capturing his lips in yours. The kiss was needy and hot as you pulled one moan after another from Jimin's mouth.

Jimin's pants were swiftly discarded by you after which you settled between his legs and placed small kisses along his inner thighs. Jimin squirmed under your teasing so you held him down by pushing down on his thighs. You finally gave attention to his weeping cock by rolling your tongue just around the tip, causing Jimin to gasp.

Heavy pants left Jimin's lips as you lightly gripped his length and kitten licked around the head. He struggled with his restraints but tried his best not to move. You took half his length into your mouth, bobbing your head and hollowing your cheeks around him before pulling out quickly.

"Please stop teasing me, baby" Jimin groaned as you stuffed most of his length into your mouth, past your gag reflex and worked the rest of his length that didn't fit into your mouth with your hand. You could hear Jimin's moans increasing in pitch as he neared his release and you immediately pulled away.

"Aww does my baby boy want to cum? Does he want Mommy to let his pathetic little cocklet cum?" You cooed and Jimin tried his best to blink away the tears from his denied orgasm.

"Mommy, please. Please let me cum" Jimin begged and you shifted back up Jimin's body to placed another wet kiss on his lips. You discarded your panties and made a show of ripping your fishnets around your pussy. Leaning back, you revealed your core towards Jimin and the camera man ran in to get a close up.

You sucked on one finger before letting it tease your lower lips open. Jimin could do nothing but stare as you slowly worked yourself open. The camera slowly zoomed in on your fingers thrusting and scissoring your pussy. You brought your other hand up to your mouth and sucked the tips of two fingers before bringing them down to rub your clit.

"Mommy's about to cum, baby boy. Would you like Mommy to cum around your little cock" You moaned and Jimin merely nodded. You let out a whine as you came, the camera capturing your pulsing lips. You got onto your knees and grabbed Jimin's painfully hard cock before guiding it into you.

"Your cock fills up Mommy so good, baby. But remember you're not allowed to come till it let you" You reminded Jimin as you started to bounce on his length. The camera man asked you to lean forward a but as he used to opportunity to get behind you and get a good shot of your wet pussy devouring Jimin's cock.

You chased your high as you continued lifting yourself up and thrusting down. You pulled another needy whine from Jimin and kissed him. He mumbled something about being close. You slapped him lightly across the face, making him look up at you.

"Use your words if you have to say something, slut" You gritted and Jimin nodded. He was barely able to stutter the word close before you picked up pace. A broken moan left Jimin's lips as he tried to hold back his orgasm.

"Cum for Mommy, baby boy. Fill her cunt with your cum" You said and Jimin almost immediately came, his mouth open in a silent scream. The warm feeling of cum in your pussy made you cum as well. The camera took one last shot of Jimin's softening cock falling out of your messy cunt before the director shouted "cut".

You immediately leaned over and unfastened Jimin's hands, making sure there was no bruising. Since the tie was skinny, there was a bit of a mark but nothing too bad. Jinyoung rushed to you with the usual robe and water as you got cleaned up. You checked your phone to see a text from Jaebum asking you out to go for coffee and you told him that you'd meet him at the café.

While you left the set early due to your date, Jimin lingered there for a while processing what had happened. He had put on this confident face all through the meeting and shoot but in reality, he was absolutely starstruck. You were one of the reasons Jimin got into camming in the first place. You were his biggest inspiration. When he got the email telling him that he got accepted for the Valentine's project, he legit screamed at the top of lungs in pure disbelief.

You were not only beautiful and seductive, you were also a kind and nice person. The professionalism you showed on set and in the meeting was nothing like he'd ever seen before. Usually, with all the stars he had worked with, they were all arrogant about how popular they were. You on the other hand, one of the biggest stars in the industry, were humble and down to earth. Jimin had to try very hard not to fanboy like crazy in front of you.

Jaebum was waiting for you at a table in the café when you arrived. He asked you what's your like to drink and ordered for the both of you. Hours went by as you both decided to head to a local bar for a proper drink. After two beers though, you decided to call it a night because you had a shoot and didn't want to be hungover. Jaebum drove you home and you thanked him for the fun time and asked him to text you before you got out of the car and got inside your house.

The date had been even better than you had expected. The true gentleman that Jaebum was, he made you feel so comfortable the entire time. He insisted on driving you home even when you said that you were okay catching a cab. You texted Jinyoung the moment you got home. He may have been your manager, but he was also your best friend. As soon as things hit off well with Jackson, you were the first person he talked about it to.

"How was the date?" Jinyoung asked the next day over coffee. Your shoot had gotten postponed by a day due to some scheduling issues so you had the day off and decided to spend it chilling with Jinyoung. With your hectic schedule, both of you barely got any time to hang out as just friends.

"It was absolutely amazing. Jaebum is really sweet. How's it going with Jackson?" You asked back and Jinyoung blushed. You knew that both of them had quite the active sex life with their extremely high libidos. Jinyoung didn't look like a sex freak but he totally was. Both of them were insatiable as seen by the rounds in cramped bathrooms during meetings and shoots that your have had to drag your manager out of.

"He's an absolutely sweetheart and has a massive dick. What else do I need in life" You choked on your drink, which caused Jinyoung to smirk. Your manager was something else only. He went from a total prude to a freak in a matter of seconds. Jinyoung's face suddenly lit up as if he remembered something and he pulled something out of his bag.

"I know you already have the script for the next shoot, but this is the script for the final one" He handed the file to you and you quickly looked through it. One thing stood out to you immediately. You rechecked the script a few times before turning to Jinyoung.

"There is a third person in this script and no one has been mentioned as the third actor" You noted and Jinyoung smiled. Something was going on that Jinyoung wasn't telling you about.

"The company asked for the final film to be a threesome but didn't have anyone in particular to be your costar so I recommended someone, guess who?" You finally realised what your manager was talking about.

"Did you ask him?" He nodded and showed you a text on his phone. You couldn't believe this was happening. You read through the script a few times. Whoever wrote it was a genius, you thought. You finalised the time for your next shoot and caught up on life with Jinyoung before heading home.

You arrived at the shoot ten minutes early because you knew you would take some time to get ready. Jimin was already changing by the time you got your costume. Bambam outdid himself with your outfit. It comprised of a black brallete with straps going around your torso, a black leather corset that had elastic instead of boning so that you would be comfortable, a pair of black Christian Louboutins and black crotchless panties.

Jungkook tied your hair up into a high ponytail before braiding it. Black and silver hair accessories were fitted into the braid finished the hairstyle. He also gave you a black lip and a smokey eye with you eyes tightlined with khol. By the end of it all, you looked liked a textbook dominatrix.

"Wow you look amazing. By the way, Jimin I looking for you, Mistress" Jinyoung winked as he guided you out of your change room towards Jimin's room. You wobbled a little in the heels as you hated those things and weren't used to walking in them.

"You wanted to see me?" You say as Jimin turned around from his dresser to look at you. You couldn't help but admire his outfit for a minute as he did the same. He was dressed in a leather harness that complemented his pale skin along with a pair of tight fitting black boxers and a leather collar with a big metal hoop attached to the front center.

"Yeah I just wanted to talk about for a bit but you rushed off set in a hurry last time so I was hoping you'd be free after shoot today?" He scratched the back of his neck, looking rather nervous. You couldn't help but coo at his cuteness. You told him that you'd stay after the shoot to talk before taking his hand and walking out of the room, towards the set.

The set this time was much different from the previous set. It had a dungeon theme with whips and paddles hanging off the black walls. A chain decoration covered one wall and a large black metal St Andrew's cross sat in the middle of the room.

"Stand on the cross" Jimin, who was kneeling by your feet, got up and climbed up onto the foot rests on the legs of the cross and held his arms up. You had him remove his boxers before fastened the restraints against his ankles. Getting up on the plank that connected the two foot rests across the cross and fastened his wrists in place.

The cold lube coated your fingers as you poured the cold liquid onto your hand. A single digit was pressed against Jimin's hole before being pushed in smoothly. You took your time working the man open, letting whines tumble out of his lips. Once his hole was nice and loose, you grabbed two small metal balls about the size of large marbles.

"Keep these in till I'm done with you and I'll reward you, drop them and I punish you" Jimin nodded as you pushed them past his rim, making sure than it was loose enough that the balls could easily fall out. Jimin's hole clenched around your fingers as you pulled them out. You stepped off the cross and picked up a few toys from the steel cart near the cross.

"Speak when spoken to, address me as Mistress and also keep quiet or I will gag you, understood?" You said and Jimin just nodded, causing you to chuckle. You slapped him once, making Jimin's head turn to the side.

"Yes Mistress" He gritted as you fastened a pair of nipple clamps on his already hardened buds. The clams were the normal hinge types, but had screws to tighten them and were attached together by a thick chain which added some weight to the contraption. Jimin tried his best to hold in a moan as you tightened the clamps but count help a whine escape. You gave him another slap as a warning and tugged strongly on the chain once for good measure.

Jimin's cock leaked precum as you wrapped a hand loosely around it. Giving it a few long pumps, you teased it for a bit before stepping off the cross once more. Jimin let out a confused moan as you pulled away, forcing you to pick up the black ball gag and tie it around his head.

It happened so suddenly, Jimin's mind could barely process it. You sneakily pressed a vibrator against his perineum and turned it on, massaging the skin there with it. The sudden stimulation made his hole clench and one of the balls fell out. His eyes widened as he heard the sound of the ball bouncing against the wood and rolling across the floor.

"One more to go" You said, your voice laced with lust. You turned up the vibrator, bringing it up to Jimin's balls and the base of his cock. Muffled moans escaped the boy's pretty lips as he neared his orgasm. He was jus about to cum when you turned off the vibrator and squeezed his base tightly. Tears welled in his eyes because of his denied orgasm, causing an almost evil smirk to bloom on your face.

You tugged harshly on the nipple clamps once more before moving the vibrator up to the head of his cock. Precum bubbled at the tip, which you spread around Jimin's cock using the end of the vibrator. Stroking him at a fast pace, you pushed the device header onto the sensetive tip, which made Jimin's orgasm wash over him. As he came on your hand, a loud noise interrupted his climax. The second ball fell to the floor before rolling off.

"Looks like someone's in trouble" You snickered before untying Jimin's hands and legs. You locked the wheels of the steel cart full of toys and quickly cleared the top. You gave him a moment to roll his shoulders to get some feeling back into them. Telling him to bend over the table, you grabbed a flat leather paddle off the bottom shelf of the cart.

"Count, and make sure to thank me each time" You said, pulling the ball gag out Jimin's mouth and letting it hang around his neck. A loud crack was followed by a broken moan as you started aiming well timed blows to Jimin's ass and thighs.

"Fi-fifteen, thank you Mistress" Jimin stuttered and you threw the paddle to the ground. Bending down next to the cart, you pulled out an "L" shaped double sided vibrator and eased one end of it inside your cunt before harshly thrusting the other end inside Jimin.

"You're not allowed to cum till I let you, understand" You gritted and Jimin said a weak 'Yes Mistress'. Slapping his already red ass a few times with your palms, you turned on the vibrator and started fucking him. Your pace was firm and steady, pulling out loud whines from the boys lips.

Sweat rolled off your forehead as you put your entire body weight into fucking Jimin. His pitch increased as he grew closer to his orgasm. You wrapped your hand around his weeping cock and stroked lazily. You could hear the silent sobs that left the boys lips due to the overstimulation.

"I-I'm close" Jimin whined. You gripped his cock tighter but maintained the pace, coordinating your thrusts with the strokes.

"My little slut wants to come? Then beg for it" You gritted.

"Please M-mistress, please let me c-cum, please, please, pl-please" Jimin's speach was barely coherent as you turned the vibrator up to maximum, sending both you and him over the edge. You helped him ride out his orgasm before turning the vibrator off and pulling out.

"Don't move" You told Jimin, your voice soft. Jinyoung rushed to you with your usual wet wipes and robe and you took a moment to help Jimin get cleaned up before turning Jim around and making him sit on top of the cart. The poor boy was quite tired after two strong orgasms back to back and you asked Jinyoung to get him a robe since you knew that at his level, it was rare to have a personal manager to help you out.

"Help me take him to my dressing room, he needs some rest before I'll be confident enough to send him back home" You told your manager and the both of you guided his boneless body to your room. Setting him down on one of the couches, you asked Jinyoung to go grab Jimin's clothes while you changed yourself.

"Here, drink some water" You offered Jimin who quietly grabbed the bottle and chugged it down in a matter of seconds. His chest was still heaving as you used a towel to help wipe off the sweat on his forehead. You thanked Jinyoung for the clothes and told Jimin to get dressed.

Preparing three cups of instant coffee using the kettle in your room, you gave one to Jinyoung as he was leaving the set. He still had a couple of meeting to attend to finalise things for the last shoot. The second cup you handed to Jimin before settling down into the couch next to him and sipping from the third.

"You wanted to talk?" You prompted. A good fifteen minutes had passed since you got the boy back to your room and he still hadn't uttered a word. You gave him some time to compose himself before he nodded and looked at you.

"There's nothing in particular, I just never got the opportunity to thank you for working with me on this project, it means the world to me" He said cutely. You felt a sudden urge to pinch his cheeks and coo at him as he half hid his face in the collar of his sweater.

"Well, I'm glad to be working with you. This project is always a highlight of the year and this time I am getting the opportunity to work with someone who I've always been curious about" You replied honestly. Shock was evident on Jimin's face as he processed your words.

"You, y/n y/l/n, were curious about me?" He asked.

"I'd heard a lot about you from my coworkers and I had seen some of your work before so yes, I was curious about you" The blush that coated Jimin's cheeks made him look so adorable that you could feel the butterflies in your stomach.

"I know I might be crossing some professional boundaries here, but would you mind joining me for a cup of coffee tomorrow evening?" Jimin asked. He stared at his hands as his fingertips played with the end of his sleeve. Since Jaebum and you weren't anything official yet, you didn't feel the need to say no to Jimin.

"Sure, why not?" You told him. Both of you exchanged numbers before you left. You, being the transparent person you were, let Jaebum know that you were going out for coffee with Jimin, making it clear that it wasn't anything more than hanging out for the time being and also let Jimin know that you were in fact seeing Jaebum. Neither of them minded the news which made you feel a little relieved.

The 'date' or whatever you call it was fun. Jimin was a real treat to be around, a completely different vibe as compared to Jaebum. The former was extremely submissive, which let you take the lead and make him flustered. The way Jimin blushed a bright pink at your compliments and giggled at your jokes made you feel a certain way.

That night, you got a call from Jaebum asking how the 'date' went. You told him honestly that you had a soft spot for the boy. You said in passing that it would have been nice if Jaebum liked Jimin then all three of you could have dated.

Jaebum, whom you had expected to brush off the idea away, actually found it interesting and told you that they should talk about it after the last and final shoot. And yes, the other costar that Jinyoung had recommended for the shoot was, in fact, Jaebum.

Three days later, you stepped out of your dressing room, dressed in an almost sheer, silver minidress, navy blue panties and silver high heels. You hair was straightened and the makeup was more on the galm side. You looked like you were leaving to go the club all thanks to Bambam and Jungkook.

The concept for the shoot was that Jimin and you were dating and met Jaebum at a bar and decided to call him home. Due to the nature of the concept, instead of having a studio set, the three of you were taken to one of the floors on top of the studio were they had furnished apartments for which shoots. Cameras were set up both inside and outside the door.

"Action!" The director shouted and you opened the lift door from inside. The three of you tumbled out of the lift, purposely trying to act a little drunk. Jaebum pinned Jimin against the wall next to the apartment door and kissed him while you unlocked the front door. Once you got it open, you grabbed Jimin's wrist and dragged the both of them inside.

Clothes were discarded here and there as you made you way towards the bedroom. Jaevun threw Jimin on the bed and the director asked you for a moment to readjust the lighting before he told you to continue. You kneeled on the bed and captured Jaebum's lips with yours. While his hands wandered up and down your body, you let on of your hands wander around Jimin's.

Once all three of you were naked, Jaebum told you to sit on his face. Jimin took the opportunity to settle between the older man's legs and stroke start sucking him off. Lewd sounds filled the room and Jaebum wrapped his lips aroujd your clit and Jimin wrapped his around Jaebum's cock.

Your moans were loud as Jaebum ate you out like a starved man. Gripping onto his hair, your legs shivered as you neared your orgasm. After a few well timed thrusts with his tongue, you were tipped over the edge. Jaebum quickly threaded his fingers through Jimin's hair and pulled him off before he came.

"Now what? Two cocks for babygirl?" Jaebum asked and you chuckled.

"Unfortunately, Jimin's cock is not meant for fucking. Have you ever taken a cock in you ass?" You asked Jaebum. The man looked conflicted for a moment before he shook his head.

"You interested? If yes, I'll let you fuck him and I can fuck you" You proposed. After a bit of consideration, Jaebum nodded. That man was a really good actor. He genuinely looked like he had never taken cock up his ass even though you know very well that he had.

"Here, open the boy up while I work on you, Jimin, lay down on your back" The younger man scooted up the bed and rested against the pillows as you handed Jaebum a bottle of lube. Jaebum settled between the other man's legs and you pushed him onto his kneels and elbows.

Once Jaebum started fingering Jimin, you spread the former's cheeks open and licked his hole. The camera zoomed in on you eating Jaebum's ass as he worked Jimin open. Jimin's high pitched moans and Jaebum's rough growls filled the room. Once you were done, you passed the older man a condom before moving to the nightstand to grab a strap on from the drawer.

You told Jimin to get on his hands and knees. Jaebum then slowly entered the boy, talking him time to let Jiminget used to the stretch. Once he was all the way in, you kneeled behind them and pushed Jaebum down a bit so that he was leaning over Jimin and entered him carefully.

Pulling back a bit, you allowed Jaebum to fuck himself on your cock and simultaneously fuck Jimin. The younger boy moaned uncontrollably as he was impaled over and over again by Jaebum's cock. You told Jaebum to get Jimin off and while he stroked the younger, you took the opportunity to fuck his ass harshly.

The thrusts made Jaebum go deeper inside Jimin which threw him over the edge. Jimin collapsed onto the bed and you pressed Jaebum onto his hands and knees over Jimin and fucked him till he came.

After cleaning up and getting dressed, Jaebum casually asked both you and Jimin out for a coffee and though it looked spontaneous, you knew that Jaebum was actually considering the proposition you had made a few days prior.

The three of you hit it off really well, your personalities complimenting each other's. You guys hung out together a few times before you and Jaebum finally decided to have a conversation with Jimin about entering into a polyamorous relationship and surprisingly, Jimin was quite excited about it. He confessed that he had developed a little bit of a crush on both of you and that he would love a three way relationship.

February 14th rolled around and you stepped out of your limousine onto the red carpet. You were followed by your two boyfriends along with Jinyoung and Jackson who accompanied you to the press conference. Being one of your company's most important projects, they held a press conference followed by a huge gala every year.

The press conference went smoothly, the reporters enjoying the chemistry between the three of you. A few questions were asked about Jaebum's involvement in the project and he happily thanked you for giving him the opportunity even though he clearly didn't need it at his level of popularity.

Afterwards, you guys headed for the gala where you bumped into Yoongi. He asked you to dance with him and you told Jaebum and Jimin to join you guys too. The four of you danced for a while before grabbing some drinks and settling down for dinner.

You spoke to Taehyung for a bit who thanked you for being a part of his project before the CEO of your company stepped onto the stage to make a speech.

"This year's Valentine's Day Project starring y/n y/l/n, Park Jimin and Lim Jaebum has officially become our most popular project of all time. A big thank you to the cast and crew and also to Park Jinyoung you wonderfully managed everything for us. We hope to see our wonderful stars continue to be parts of such successful project and films and reach new heights! Goodnight!"

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theem0fangirl · 5 years ago

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And it only took one video (Finn wolfhard x OC)

Grace is not an ordinary girl, to say the least. All her life she was shaped to be the girl next girl that everyone just simply adored, you know?, at least that’s what her parents wanted. She ended up being the complete and total opposite.

I bet her parents didn’t expect her to be the girl that stays up till three am questioning her life choices as she blasts Mr. brightside on full volume. They didn’t even expect, not one bit, that their daughter would become an internet sensation AT ALL.

“Oh my god, Grace, did you see the views on your new video?“ Her best friend asked, they were in a group call through facetime. Grace had to use her laptop to video chat with them. She met her friends when her videos started blowing up on the new app called tiktok.

“No, Milly, i haven’t seen it“

she took her phone to check that her video was surpassing the ten million mark. The sound she used was to pretend to be a character in stranger things to the song dirty harry from the gorillaz.

Grace felt odd having people randomly hit her personal messages trying to be friends with her just because she was famous, or pretty. She even had boys from her old highschool hitting her messages.

“Can you believe the audacity of these incels!“ Grace shouted “Texting me just because i suddenly glowed up and they finally look pretty for them. These boys ain’t shit“.

The video where Grace dressed up as a stranger things character was getting a lot of attention. Mainly because a lot of people thought that she radiated female mike wheeler vibes. She didn't mind those comments, the comments she hated were the ones judging her appearance.

user7874637291937: omg, her acting is so fake like it is so non-believable

user362823729382: i find it hilarious that people are commenting that netflix should contact her LOL

user46389292399: Has anybody seen her hair? like girl you look like a fucking rat nest JAJA t

user4666738293: lord, are those stomach rolls? ew!

She would usually just shrug those comments as stupid. They were just bored people with the attention span of a fucking goldfish and ate batteries for fun.

“Also, i see that it is quite trending on twitter that people are randomly tagging Finn wolfhard to see your videos“

Grace widened her eyes when she heard that. Her fans were doing what?!.

“Tell me that you’re joking, dude“ she was starting to get nervous when her friend shook her head.

Grace quickly had to open twitter to find out that people were indeed tagging Finn wolfhard on her stranger things videos all over her twitter feed. She groaned and threw her pillow against the wall.

“YO, whats wrong?“ Tellulah asked “Uh, the fact that my fans are swarming THE MOTHERFUCKING FINN WOLFHARD WITH VIDEOS OF ME DOING STRANGER THINGS POVS!“ she shouted “Like, can they fucking realize that he wont notice my videos?. He’s too famous to even take a glimpse of my profile“ she plumetted back to her bed.

“And what do you know?, huh?, what if he does respond to you and actually thinks that yod u are pretty?“

Grace scoffed “Yeah, like that will ever happen”.

Grace never really cared about fame, especially since she is only seventeen years old. But people were just going insane over videos of her doing POV’s of random things, funny things, pretending that she was in one of her favorite shows, etc.

“Hey guys, we still up for that coffee date later on?“ All of them nodded.

It has been a couple of days since the governor had lifted the stay in home order. She’s just happy that she gets to hangout with her friends.

When they finally decided to hang up on the call, Grace decided to go on tiktok and make a video where she reveals that she has similar powers to eleven. While she thought of those she would also think of some good POV ideas.

“Shit“ Grace cursed under her breath, she had a mess of clothes in her bed because she couldn't choose what clothes to wear for her new video/s. Then again she had to check her tiktok journal.

Yes, Grace had ajournal that was specifically dedicated to tiktok. In that notebook she would write down the sounds she would love and gave her ideas for videos. Whenever she liked a sound she would write it with the POV idea alongside a polaroid picture with a description of the POV.

She opted to wear her typical grunge clothes to do the tiktok video.

“Maybe i should go on a live just to chat around with my fans“

When she instantly went on a live on tiktok more than two thousand people came on it.

“Well hello you guys!“ she smiled while looking at the camera. She was reading the comments that they were leaving for her.

randomser445: how old are you?

user3345: do you have a boyfriend?

girlygirl55: What grade are you in?

Grace chuckled, all the questions she received were just about her.

“Well, first of all, I am seventeen years old, no i don’t have a boyfriend and i have recently graduated from my senior year“ she replied

Iamc00ch: how do you feel about your fans spamming finn wolfhard with your videos?

“It made me really uncomfortable because he is a busy guy and i probably think he doesnt have time to look at my profile. So guys, just stop spamming him, please!“

Everyone in the live were curious as to why Grace had her eyebrows furrowed and was confused.

“No fucking way...“ she covered her mouth to prevent her from screaming. “Guys im gonna have to end the live, im sorry“.

Grace couldnt believe her eyes. Was THE Finn wolfhard on her DM’s?, texting HER?.

finnwoldhardofficial: so you’re the girl that’s been on my timeline this whole time

JESUS FUCKING CHRIST, IT IS HIM, Grace mentally yelled at herself. She had to compose herself before returning his message back.

goldencherubin: Oh my gosh, i am so sorry! i can’t believe my fans bombarded you with my videos. I didnt meant that to happen lol.

finnwolfhardofficial: No worries, i actually liked having a cute girl appear on my timeline

She felt her heart skip a beat. She just called her cute!.

goldencherubin: oh- i- You’re gonna make me blush

finnwolfhardofficial: that’s kind of the point

Grace and Finn texted what seemed like eternity, and she didnt even mind it one bit. She just still couldnt believe that she was talking to the finn wolfhard, her celebrity crush that is actually the same age as her.

And it only took one video for him to capture his attention.

#finn wolfhard #imagine #finn imagine #stranger things #finn wolfhard imagine #original character

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croatian-nt · 5 years ago

Text

Mafia au-Part four

Summary: When an unassuming artist saves a man’s life at the shooting at the gallery, he ends up in the midde of the war between two mafias and as he gets dragged deeper into the whole thing, he soon learns the line between the sides and right and wrong blur more than he expected.

Pairings: Luka Modrić/Šime Vrsaljko, Livi/Bruno mentioned

Word Count:

Warnings: mentions of past murder, blood, making out

Notes: Soo it’s finally here, sorry for the delay, online classes started this week and the whole earthquake situation kind of *shook* me(get it? get it? okay, I’ll stop now). As usual big thank you to @lovren-la-vida-luka for editing this. Anyway, enjoy :)

Šime

Šime had a very strong dislike for hospitals, to say the least. The smell of antiseptic, the white, sterile walls, and the general sense of dread they always seemed to give off. His dislike was so strong the word hate was on tip of his tongue whenever he set foot in one, or even thought about it, but he couldn't afford to have such strong feelings about anything in his job.

Deep down, he know that perhaps it was partly because it seemed that every time he walked into one, someone died. And he didn't mean the people he killed. Šime was long past the point when he would regret slitting someone's throat. Especially not someone who wanted to hurt Luka.

He swallowed. The drum of reckless energy was still pulsing through him. The urge to hurt, maim, kill everyone involved in this. He silently vowed that when this was all over, he was going to strangle Luka himself. Why the fuck did he go there – or anywhere, for that matter - without a gun?

He walked casually into the first room he found, unfazed by the way the nurse paled at the sight of him. He could only imagine how he looked, his body and face splattered with blood. He took a gun out, lazily pointing it at her.

"It's in both of our interests that you survive, and that I don't have to use this thing. So, I am looking for a friend. Short, slim, with longish blond hair. Sounds familiar?"

She nodded, and only then did Šime notice that she must have been an intern. Something like regret passed through him, but he pushed it away. Every second longer it takes for him to find Luka is a second spared for someone else to get there first. If the girl was smart, she'd listen to him and it would go smoothly. If not... well. This whole thing couldn't become much messier than it already was.

"Lead the way. If you scream or try to run, I am going to shoot you and show you as an example to the second nurse I'll find to help me. Got it?"

She paled even more, looking like she might faint, but thankfully she didn't. Šime hated hysterical people. They gave him a headache.

"Yes sir. He is in room 206, if I’m thinking of the right person."

Šime signaled her to exit the door. As promised, she quietly led him through the corridor and to the room 206. Šime relaxed a bit, reassured that he wouldn't have to kill her.

She opened the door, and there he was. Luka. Šime's heart squeezed in his chest. The harsh fluorescent light only made him look paler, sicklier. The gauze on his should was soaked with blood, and Šime clenched his fists as he looked at it.

As if he sensed Šime's presence, Luka's eyes blinked open, immediately focusing on him. He blinked once again, and then frowned.

"Well, this is a weird one. You aren't usually covered in blood in my dreams."

Šime took a sharp breath, biting inside of his cheek. Luka's face held such a honest, vulnerable expression it made him wish for impossible things.

It made him wish for a calm breeze on his face from an open window, the smell of coffee in the morning, and being able to just walk through a few rooms to find Luka at any time. To kiss him, right this second, first thing in the morning and any other time he wanted, without having to look over his shoulder.

Šime's insides recoiled as he snapped out of his fantasy, and he mentally slapped himself. What kind of wish is that? He should know better.

"You are not dreaming," he said, trying to make his voice sound as sharp as it did earlier.

He turned to the nurse again.

"Give me the key to this room. And you” - he glanced at Luka - "get dressed. We are leaving."

Šime could feel Luka's burning gaze on the nape of his neck when he turned from him. He didn't have the time to talk to him properly, and it was for the best. For the first time, Šime didn't trust himself to keep his cool. He was one step away from starting a shouting match.

"What the fuck do you think you are doing?! Who are you, and who are your friends, actually? Jesus Christ Ante, you just killed someone!"

By the sound of it, the kid from the gallery shared his sentiment, but not his self restraint. Which was another reason they needed to hurry.

Luka put his torn button-up on, and Šime quietly mourned the loss of it. It was such a nice shirt, and before it was torn and bloodied. it looked amazing on Luka.

The nurse gave him the key and Šime fished out a small bottle from the pocket of his jacket. The nurse swallowed audibly, digging her nails into her palms. Šime smirked, but managed to stifle his laughter.

"Calm down. It's chloroform – but it's not for you. I'm just going to lock you in this room for a bit to buy us some time. Give me some gauze or something to put this on."

She walked over to a first aid box in the corner, never taking her eyes off Šime, and handed held out a thick white dressing without a word. Without breaking the silence, Šime took it with a hint of a smile, and Luka gave him a look. Šime knew that look, it was his "what-the-hell-are-you-doing-now" look. Well, perhaps if Luka didn't consistently prove that his plans sucked, maybe Šime would tell him about his.

Taking the key in one hand and the gauze in another, he exited the room, Luka trailing behind him still looking bemused and more delicate than usual. Šime locked the door behind them, and stared at the key for a moment. Then, after a moment of consideration, he walked over to the first open window he saw and, with a lightning fast flick of the wrist, he threw it.

"Did you just throw the key out of the window?!" Luka asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No, Luka, of course not, you must be hallucinating from the blood loss,” Šime replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I actually swallowed the key. Now that's cleared up, let's move."

Luka rolled his eyes but followed him through the corridor. Šime opened the door and slipped inside silently, a skill he had perfected over the years. He braced himself and walked over to the gallery kid, grabbing his shoulder. The boy - or well, the man, he supposed, processing for the first time that he was actually slightly taller and broader than Šime himself - flinched, but Šime didn't ease his grip.

The need for violence burned through him again and he resisted the urge to just knock the kid out with a precise hit on the head. He saved Luka, and that was worth something.

“I am really sorry I have to do this, but we already gained too much attention without you making a scene and shouting Ante's name. Let's hope nobody heard that part.”

And then he pressed the chloroform-soaked gauze to his face. The guy struggled, but it was nothing compared to what Šime was used to, and after a few moments his body went limp in his arms.

Šime didn't miss the way Ante clenched his fists and was obviously resisting the urge to stop him and defend... what was his name again?

“Since you seem so keen on protecting him, you can carry him to the car,” Šime said, almost tossing him towards Ante, who caught him, scowling at Šime.

Šime rolled his eyes.

“And don't think you're getting away without explaining that mess. I am just in a hurry to get out of here. But there will be plenty of time during the ride to the safe house.”

“Safe house?” Luka asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Yes. We can't afford to be potentially followed to the main house. And you-” Šime sharply swept his gaze from Luka's pale face to his injured shoulder, and torn clothes, “need to be somewhere safe. That's the number one priority here.”

With that, Šime turned and walked towards the exit, not checking if they followed him. If they really wanted to die in this stupid hospital, then fine. Šime wasn't about to hang around and join them.

When all three, or, well, technically four, of them finally reached the car, Šime was already nervously glancing around the parking lot. They had been here for way longer than he would have liked.

Livi was waiting for them, of course, his fingers anxiously tapping on the steering wheel. His shoulders relaxed a bit when he caught the sight of Šime, and his eyes widened when he saw Ante carrying someone. Šime should really teach him how to hide his emotions better.

“How do you plan on all of us fitting in car, with Tin unconscious?” Ante asked sharply, but Šime didn't even turned towards him.

“Put him in the trunk, hell, tie him to the roof for all I care. As long as you do it fast.”

He could see the way Ante's jaw clenched and eyes narrowed. Ante was known for his lack of reaction, but for some reason he was slipping... that was the most emotion Šime had seen in his notoriously stony face since he met him five years ago. Interesting.

Šime took the front seat, which left Ante and Luka in the backseat, with Ante arranging... what had Ante called him? Tim? to sit between them, with his head leaning on Ante's shoulder. It looked almost domestic, forcing Šime to bat away his own daydreams once again.

As if he'd read his mind, Luka caught Šime's gaze in rear mirror, his honey eyes trapping him for a moment. Šime pursed his lips, pushing the worry, the anger and everything else back down. There will be time to talk, but it wasn't now.

“Drive. You know the way,” he told Livi flatly, tearing his eyes away from Luka's and looking ahead.

When the car started and they left the parking lot without another incident, Šime turned his gaze towards Ante.

“So... care to enlighten us as to how you and Tim know each? And why he freaked out earlier?”

Ante shifted, turning his eyes to the side window, obviously uncomfortable with Šime's prying. This was nothing new, if they really thought about it no one truly knew anything about Ante, but there was something different about it this time. Instead of cold and indifferent, he seemed... cagey. His look was one Šime had seen dozens of times on the faces of people he was seconds away from forcing a secret out of.

“His name is Tin, with an N, not Tim. And we went to the same high school. But that was in another part of the country. I haven’t seen or heard from him in years, and I genuinely have no idea what he’s doing here.”

Šime shrugged. That really wasn't the part he was concerned about. Tim- Tin - was just at the wrong place and at the wrong time. With too good intentions. Šime glanced to his unconscious face and felt himself warming to him, just a little.

If he wasn't there, Luka would probably be dead.

Šime shook his head, chasing that thought away. He really shouldn't think of that. He couldn't, not if he was to keep up his professional facade while Ante and Livi were around.

"It looked a bit more personal than that to me."

Ante crossed his arms over his chest, and Šime knew he hit a nerve. It was like poking a bear with a stick to get a reaction. Ante was such an enigma because he never talked about anything from the past. But when someone just waltzes in like this... well, things get a little harder to hide.

"Look, while it's great that Tin here saved Luka's life, if you think I will hesitate to put a bullet through his brain if he is the faintest bit suspicious, you are gravely mistaken. So if you want him to live, you better start talking."

Ante swallowed, and Šime let the silence stretch, knowing Ante would break under pressure. If he felt better pretending he actually weighed up both options, Šime wasn't about to break his illusion. But since a big part of his job was to read people and find their weaknesses... he knew he had him the moment he said Tin's name.

"Fine. We used to date. Back in high school. But everything I said is true, I haven’t seen him in years, and he isn't dangerous by any means, I swear. He's just a fucking artist, for God's sake!"

Šime raised his eyebrows.

"That artist of yours knocked out two trained men with guns, without even giving them a chance to fight back. Maybe you want to try that again."

Ante chewed on his bottom lip, deciding how much he could say.

"That's because I trained him in self defense, okay? But there is a reason he didn't try to fight them. If he was any kind of threat, don't you think he would have been able to fight you earlier?"

That was a fair point. To be fair, Šime didn't really think Tin was dangerous, but after all that had happened today, he wasn't about to let any potential threat slide.

"Alright, I trust you, and that means I trust him. But for now, he won't be able to leave the safe house. He saw our faces and until I am certain he won't go straight to the police, he isn't going anywhere."

Ante nodded, but he didn't relax. Šime supposed he was aware he’d be the one responsible for keeping Tin from getting out. Šime glanced to Luka again, the way the setting sun painted his face and hair into red tones and he felt a pang in his heart. He quickly averted his gaze. He definitely wasn't envious of Ante's task.

Livi was quiet during the entire ride, his eyes fixed on the road. Despite the fact that his baby face usually made him seem a few years younger than he was, the look in his eyes was that of a man four times his age.

The rest of the ride was spent in loaded silence, and when the car finally stopped, Livi jumped out as if the thing was about to explode, but Šime stayed in the car a moment longer, just watching the way Ante gently eased Tin out and scooped him up.

Luka would never let him do that, no matter how injured he was. Because his reputation was more important.

No, because he doesn't want anyone to know about you, how he feels about you. Because he doesn't love you. At least not as much as you love him.

Šime grit his teeth and exited the car, making sure he doesn't glance in Luka's direction. He knew Luka would struggle to open the door without jostling his shoulder, but there was nothing he could do. Nothing that Luka wouldn't see as an implication of weakness, anyway.

Ante was already at the door, with Tin in his arms, and Luka wasn't far behind. Livi went to joining them, but Šime stopped him with a firm hand on his shoulder.

"I am not going to ask you how you knew Luka was going to be in danger, because I keep my word. But if I find out you had something to do with this... believe me, you'll have far bigger problems than Dalić finding out about it. Got it?"

Livi held his gaze, unwavering. Sometimes Šime let himself slip and forget exactly who Livi was, but in moments like this, he would be sharply reminded with perfect clarity of just who he was dealing with... and who raised him.

"Got it. I mean, you were pretty clear. I just find it insulting that you think I would be dumb enough to plan Luka's assassination and then tell you about it beforehand."

Šime snorted, the weight lifting of his shoulders a bit. He was really starting to like Livi. He really didn't want to kill him.

"Okay, you can go see your lover boy now. Ante and I can handle it from here."

Livi gave him an honest smile, and the ancient look in his eyes disappeared for a brief moment. He actually looked 23, young and carefree as he should be. Not that Šime knew anything about that from personal experience.

As he climbed the stairs to the door and made his way to Luka's room, he let his mind wander back, to when he was 16.

The air was crisp and cold, the wind sharply making it's way through people's coats and making them tremble. Šime liked that kind of weather.

It meant people were walking quickly, and paying less attention to their surroundings, eager to get away from the cold. That made his job so much more easier.

Stumbling or colliding into people was his specialty. Supporting them with their right hand a apologizing profusely, making it seemed like an unfortunate accident on his part. A misstep. Nobody ever payed attention to his left hand.

Nobody before Luka.

Šime collided with a short boy with blond hair. He was nothing special from afar - he looked around Šime's age, maybe a few years older but it was hard to be sure, considering his height - but his clothes were nice enough for Šime to try to get his wallet. Or watch. Or both, if he had enough time.

What he didn't expect was for the boy to move frighteningly fast as soon as Šime fished out his wallet, tightly gripping his wrist. Šime's breath caught in his throat. Nobody caught him stealing before.

He stared at the boy, his honey eyes reminding him of the light of a candle. Lighting up a room if used properly, and burning down the entire house if you got too careless.

"I plead not guilty?" Šime whispered, his voice trembling.

The other boy let out a startled laugh, shaking his head a bit. He gave Šime a long, calculating look, before letting go of his wrist.

"Would you like a job? One that could use your... expertise?"

Šime came back to the present, grounding himself with the feeling of a cold steel knob in his hand. He took a deep breath, and opened the door.

Luka was sitting on a chair next to the bed, trying to change his dressing himself. Šime watched him fumble with the gauze for a moment, and then stepped into the room, quietly closing the door behind him.

"Let me," he said, and Luka flinched.

He didn't hear him. That was unusual - Luka was always aware of the smallest sounds and movement. It was a rare occurrence for Šime to sneak up to him even when he tried.

Šime pushed away his worry and stepped closer, slowly, making sure not to make any sudden movements.

"I am not some scared animal," Luka snapped, crossing his arms over his chest and immediately wincing in pain.

Šime didn't answer. He stopped behind Luka, and their eyes met in the mirror. Šime carefully brushed Luka's hair to the left side, so he could take a better look at his injured shoulder.

It was more or less a clean wound, or rather two, where the bullet passed right through the shoulder, but the marks were still startlingly red next to Luka's pale skin.

"No, you are not. But that doesn't mean I can't be careful with you. Really, it says more about me than you."

Luka swallowed and kept quiet and Šime took that as his agreement to change his dressing. He wrapped the bandage in silence, even making a conscious effort not to breathe too loudly in the stillness, and when he was almost finished Luka spoke.

"I got distracted. I should have noticed that man sooner, but I didn't. I got distracted, because of you, and it almost cost me my life."

Šime finished wrapping the gauze and made sure it was secured before taking a step back.

"Then tell me to leave."

"What?" Luka asked, sitting up straighter in the chair.

Šime met his eyes, amber and brown opal clashing.

"Tell me to leave. If I am really such a burden, such a threat to your life - then tell me to leave. I can promise you, I will walk out of that door without another word and you'll never see me again. I won't make this hard on you, if that's what you want, say so and I'm gone."

Luka stared, swallowed. Šime almost caved when he saw his lost, desperate look he gave him.

"You know I can't do that."

Šime closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, before opening them again, catching Luka's eyes once again.

"Then ask me to stay. Just... just for God's sake, Luka, make up your mind already. Because I feel like I'm trying to reach for smoke here and as much as it would hurt losing you... I feel like I already am. So just make a choice. For both of our sakes."

Luka turned, opened his mouth and closed it. And then nodded.

"Do I... do I need to make a decision now?"

Everything in Šime wanted to scream: YES! We have been dancing around this for years, how much more time could you possibly need?! Just tell me what you want already!

But he bit his tongue, and smoothed his face into his usual calm, collected facade.

"No, of course not. But you should do it soon. Especially considering…" Šime paused, sweeping his eyes over Luka's shoulder and then back to his face, "…these new developments. I'd imagine things will get quite messy soon."

Luka pursed his lips and nodded once again, and Šime turned on his heel, ready to leave.

"Wait!"

Šime spun back around, finding Luka on his feet now. Before Šime could ask what was wrong, or say anything at all, Luka stepped closer and his lips were on Šime's.

Šime gasped, and Luka got even closer, tangling his hands into Šime's messy curls. His breath was warm in Šime's mouth, and unlike this morning he tasted of blood. Šime chose to ignore that, and kissed him back, hard.

It was as if a dam had been broken, and they couldn't stop kissing each other. Even when they parted for breath, one of them would press smaller, quick kisses to the other's lips. Šime because he wanted to make sure Luka was alive, and breathing and okay, and Luka because he wanted to make sure he didn't waste his chance this time around.

Finally, they stopped, their foreheads leaning against each other, and panting for air. The silence was different now – still charged, but no longer uncomfortable. They didn't have to say anything to understand what the other was thinking.

"I don't want you to leave. But I... I don't know how to do this either. I don't know how to keep you safe, hell, apparently I don't even know how to keep myself safe. And you are putting yourself at a higher risk now, just by being around me."

Šime sighed, playing with a lock of Luka's silky hair as he considered the answer.

"Nobody is promised safety, especially not in our line of business. And we'll figure out the rest. As long as we are together."

Luka opened his mouth to say something else, but before he could, Šime kissed him again. It was a quick, bruising kiss and Šime smiled against Luka's mouth as he gasped.

"You need to get some rest. You almost died. Trust me, I'll find out more about what happened by the time you wake up. Okay?"

Luka still looked uncertain, unused to not doing everything on his own. Even when others did things without him, he knew exactly what they were doing. This required trust. Both Šime and Luka trusted very few people, but they both knew that if this was going to work, they needed to trust each other completely.

"Okay."

Šime kissed Luka's forehead, and left without another word. Right before he closed the door, he glanced back at Luka and found him still standing where he left him, looking right back at him. When Šime closed the door with a soft click, he felt as if he lost something precious.

Which was ridiculous. Wasn't it? Well, it was, until Šime's phone rang.

He didn't have the number saved in his phone - that would be stupid for a multitude of reasons - but he memorized that number long time ago. It usually showed on Luka's phone though, not Šime's.

"Vrsaljko," Šime answered, his voice cold, almost robotic.

The person on the other end of the phone chuckled darkly, and the hairs on Šime's arms stood on end. There was something about that voice that never failed to make Šime shudder and make something cold and heavy settle in his stomach.

"Yes, I am aware. I just heard about Luka's... incident. I assume he is alright, since you answered the call?"

Šime hated the fact the other man knew that, if Luka died, Šime would already be on a killing mission. Šime was very much used to being the reader, not the metaphorical book, and it made him uncomfortable that someone could so effortlessly read even the chapters he made an effort to keep glued shut.

"Yes, he's alive."

"Good. I also presume you don't have any information other than what I heard from Livaković and Rebic?"

Šime's breath caught in his throat. Lying to Dalić was never wise. But hell if Šime was going to break his promise to Livi.

"No."

"I need you to do something for me," Dalić continued, brushing off the previous topic, "now that Luka is injured. I am sure Luka won't be out of action for long, but while he is, you are one of few people I trust to be... discreet."

Shit. This couldn't be good.

Šime knew something was very, very wrong. He knew that Dalić was doing this behind Luka's back for a reason far more important than him being injured, even before he said anything.

"I am listening."

"I need you to arrange a hit for me... I just found out who ordered the shooting at the gallery."

Šime could barely hear anything over the static in his ears. His heart was beating wildly in his chest and the gentleness and suspicion bled out of him. Only rage was left. He gripped the phone tighter, until he thought the screen might crack.

"Who?" he hissed through clenched teeth. He knew that Dalić wasn't the type for dramatic pauses, so the eternal wait for the other man to answer was probably, in reality, a split second. Finally, he spoke.

"Danijel Subašić."

And in that moment, as he remembered stories of Luka's stories from his childhood, and him and Suba saving each other's lives before they join opposite mafias, Šime was certain of one thing. Things would never be the same again.

Taglist:

@morska-vjestica

@hetapeep41

@hvnedge

@incelhugochavez

@wordpuddle

#croatian nt #mafia au #sime vrsaljko #luka modric #ante rebic #dominik livakovic #tin jedvaj #long post

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ubernoxa · 5 years ago

Text

So I saw this on tumblr and it inspired me to creat the Director’s (Writer’s) cut for some of my fanfics Please request any chapters from any fanfics I have writen. This was fun!

Chapter 1: The Stupid Dare

So looking back I can’t believe I wrote this December 28th 2019. It’s crazy how time flies. Looking back I don’t remember what inspired the character Delilah. I think I was watching an episode of the TV show Psych where they go to a catholic school and the idea kinda popped in my head.

So as many of you all probably don’t know is that I love the idea of the butterfly effect. Now you’re probably thinking, hey Bailey your story has NOTHING to do with time travel, and you’re right! This kinda stems off of that idea how one small action can cause a ripple effect and change your life. That’s what The Dare is about, the little choices that you don’t ever think are big ones.

I almost didn’t write this fanfic because I was worried about having two fanfics open. At the time I was writing another fanfic called After Dusk which I haven’t touched in ages and didn’t really have any direction for it. Someday I might go back and rewrite it, but for now it will stay where it is. Before I start all of this I just want to say thank you to anyone who has ever read, messaged me, rebooted, or commented. The Dare wouldn’t be where it is a without y’all. So let’s get this going!

It was all a dare.

It was all a stupid dare that shouldn’t have even been said.

That dare was the reason why Delilah and Beth walked the streets of the strip trying to choose the least intimidating bar on the strip to enter.

For me this kinda referenced this one time a friend of mine and I were bar hopping in Colorado and we 100% chose the bar we went to because I looked the least scary.

It all started when after the Friday’s afternoon service when Mark’s younger brother ran into the storage room, telling second hand stories about seeing the Devil on sunset strip.

During every story, Beth would look over to Delilah and Matt to see if they were still trying to contain their laughter. Noticing his friend’s hidden laughter at his younger brother’s stories, Mark ushered his younger brother out of the room to save him from the ridicule and back to play with the other little kids who were a couple rooms down.

They had all heard those stupid stories before. At 18 Mark knew the stories were metaphors or something stupid along those lines, but to his naive 8 year old brother, they were real.

“How about next time you guys don’t make fun of my little brother. He is only eight years old and doesn’t know any better,” Mark almost wined as he plopped down on the large armchair.

Ahh back to when Mark wasn’t a complete piece of trash and dick. You know total bottom tier human. I really didn’t like writing what happened in later chapters, but it had to be done.

“We weren’t laughing,” Delilah said between giggles making Mark roll his eyes.

“Fine, since you think it’s so funny that my brother is scared of those stupid stories then why don’t you go visit Sunset Strip since you’re not scared,” Mark’s words caused the room to go silent.

They weren’t afraid of the ‘Devil’ on Sunset Strip. They were afraid of something more ‘reasonable’, they were afraid of getting caught sneaking out.

Mark sat cockily in his chair as he watched Delilah contemplate it. Maybe she had come to her senses and would go apologize to his little brother. There was no way she would accept the challenge. She wasn’t that stupid. They all knew the consequences of one of them got caught.

Bold of Mark to assume Delilah wouldn’t do something stupid. She hadn’t seen her older brother in years and she wouldn’t miss the chance to see him again. They were close, and she had been trying to figure out an excise for months. She also is a girl and Mark was an attractive guy who she had a crush on and she 100% wanted to impress Mark. As someone who has also done stupid things to impress a guy I can kinda relate. She also wanted to see if she would run into her older brother who had left many years ago. She was one of only a couple of people who knew what actually she was so

“What do if I get into one of the bars?” Mark leaned in closer on the edge of his seat as his smirk grew into a grin. She wanted to make it harder?

Was she seriously thinking about doing it? This was going to be an easy win.

“I will do all of your chores for a month, and if you can’t get in then you’ll do my chores for a month,” Delilah reached forward instantly ready to agree to Mark’s dare. For Delilah that meant the potential for no more babysitting on Saturdays, but for Mark that meant the potential for not mopping the church floors for a month.

The room was silent with the raised stakes. They had wagered chores when playing games before, but never a months work.

Jesus Christ, Beth said under her breathe as she watched Delilah agree to the terms.

“So Matt, what do you think we should do with all of this free time we are going to have,” Mark leaned back in his chair, a smirk covering his face.

“Wait we? I only agreed to do Mark’s not Matt’s too,” Delilah was now on the edge of her seat, panic in her eye and pillow in her hand ready to smack Mark.

“Delilah Marie Sanderson, you place that pillow down and apologize to Mark for threatening him or if you want you can go upstairs and pray for forgiveness,” Delilah sighed as she heard her mother scold her.

She wasn’t actually going to hit Mark with the pillow, and even if she did it’s a pillow. It wouldn’t have hurt.

Part of Delilah wanted to tell her mom that it was only a joke and that she wasn’t actually going to hit him, but she had fought that fight hundreds of times with her mother and had lost every single one. Talking back would only make matters worse.

Foreshadowing?

Delilah took a deep breath and looked towards Mark, “I apologize for my unladylike behavior. Will you forgive me?”

“I do and thank you for your apology, Delilah,” Mark cockily replied.

The second her mother left the back room, Delilah threw the pillow at Mark in attempt to wipe the smirk off of his face.

Unable to control herself and her laughter, Beth fell out of the wooden chair that she was sitting in.

“What did you mean by we?” Delilah asked again waiting for either Mark or Matt to respond.

“Well we assumed it’s the usual 2 versus 2,” Matt shrugged immediately ending Beth’s laughter.

“Excuse me?” Beth only slightly raised her voice slightly in fear of Delilah’s mom coming back from the other room to scold them again.

“You’re excused,” Beth rolled her eyes as Mark and Matt laughed at Mark’s stupid joke.

“What are you afraid you couldn’t get in?” Mark asked Beth.

Beth sat back on her chair and replied, “No I can get in, easily.”

The lie rolled off her tongue in a little more panicked of a tone than she had expected.

—————

For this next part when writing I tried to think of what Delilah and Beth would think of as like what the strip would be. I kinda channeled that inner middle schooler where we were first learning about makeup and wanted to look like the high schoolers.

Delilah followed Beth upstairs to Beth’s bedroom where their alleged sleepover would be taking place.

Once in the room with the door closed, Delilah grabbed the variety of clothing that she brought to potentially alter.

“Which one would be the easiest to modify?” Beth looked at the variety of black dresses that Delilah had brought.

“They’re all kinda the same,” Delilah commented as she held the dresses in front of her. Beth let out a small chuckle and grabbed one at random.

Delilah watched as Beth cut and sewed the modified outfit.

To say that Delilah was nervous was an understatement. She was nervous that they would get caught trying to leave after curfew. She was worried that Beth’s or her parents would catch them in their lie of a cover story that was a sleep over.

Dinner came and went with no suspicion, besides Beth’s mom asked what they were sewing which Delilah answered with, “Beth is adding some color and designs to one of my old dresses.” It was a rehearsed answer, but Beth’s mother didn’t bat an eye at Delilah’s response, as expected.

Rehearsing answer to questions is something Delilah has been doing since day 1. What’s the saying? Overprotective parents raise sneaky kids?

The next two hours were filled with the two girls actually ‘adding some color’ to an old dress, so when asked tomorrow they had proof.

Then, right after they said their good nights to Beth’s family, they got to work on their makeup.

Both girls knew very little about Sunset Strip, but from what they did know, they thought did they an ok job at mimicking.

Saying an ok job is definitely giving Beth and Delilah too much credit.

They both knew that black was a common color on the strip, so both girls wore black with heavy black eyeliner.

They also knew that people on the strip showed skin, and this where Delilah was getting second thoughts about the bet.

Delilah had lost track of the amount of apologies that Beth had given her. Beth has transformed her black dress that rested at the knees to a half shirt and a float black skirt that barely covered Delilah’s butt. One light breeze would leave her exposed.

So Beth purposefully shortened the skirt in hopes of scaring Delilah to not wanting to go. Beth didn’t have the courage to tell Delilah no because she knew Delilah would do it without her. In her eyes Beth was trying to do what she thought was right, and protect Delilah. She was doing it out of kindness (in her eyes) hoping to scare Delilah because Beth couldn’t say no to to Delilah. Growing up it was always her and Delilah. They were both homeschooled and lived closer to each other, so they spent most of their lives together. She was also worried that Delilah would find her brother (Delilah told her the truth one night), and she was worried that Delilah would leave. Later on we slowly learn more about their relationship, but from what is currently known Delilah’s life is very different from Beth’s own.

“I’m sorry,” Beth said again as she caught Delilah messing with the length of the skirt.

“You’re fine, we don’t have time to fix it, so it will just have to work,” Delilah sighed as she tried to pull the skirt down a little more. She wished she had taken Beth up on the offer of trying the skirt on earlier, but now it was too late to be turning the sewing machine back on and make alterations. If the sewing machine turned on, someone would want to know what they were really up to.

Beth and Delilah stared at themselves in the mirror barely recognizing their own reflection.

“I’m going to Hell,” Beth unknowingly said aloud.

At this moment Beth realized that Delilah was actually going through with it. She was terrified. She wasn’t going to hell for going to the strip, she was going to hell because she knew she was going to abandon Delilah in the end. If she stayed with Delilah she would also go to hell so this was a lose lose situation.

“Well at least we will be in Hell together then,” Delilah replied with a reassuring smile.

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