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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years ago

Text

twelve hours, m | jjk | ... and now

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: You have twelve hours to make Jeon Jungkook fall in love with you. He's about to get married. You're the entertainment at his bachelor party - a burlesque dancer. Long ago, he used to be the class representative and you used to be the class delinquent. Nothing has changed and, yet, everything has.

this is part ii | click here for part i | total wc: 23k

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; this story contains parental child abuse and graphic violence, including the reader becoming physically scarred and having panic attacks; rich, this bachelor party is on a fuckin' YACHT, the best man is LOADED; JK and reader interacted in high school; angst and fluff and feels; cheating; this is mostly smut XD; (in part i) high school smut + intense adult smut (fem reader, striptease, semi-public sex at school, nipple play (he's a bit obsessed with them), dry humping, m-masturbation, handjob, cumming on tits (and diamonds), cum-eating, mirror kink, spitting, tit fucking, m-receiving oral, scratching / biting / marking, penetrative sex, doggy); shifts back and forth between Jungkook’s POV and your POV

non-idol!AU; film director!Jungkook x wealthy, burlesque dancer!reader — ft best man, art trader!Kim Taehyung; dancer's bodyguard!Kim Namjoon and bodyguard!Kim Seokjin

> eyebrow pierced, tattooed, and long black-haired JK (with undercut) in a black suit because that's what we need in this life > look for TXT's 'you and me and the sky at 5:53' :)

time left: 06:49

No.

Don’t leave me.

It was the same then as it was now.

Jungkook reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her back to him. Her eyes widened, pivoting quickly on her toe, snapping her heel down and cutting the turn short, black skirt flaring out. The swift glimpse of her legs in the high slit, the gentle bounce of her breasts in the slinky fabric. Her manicured hair bounced, dyed blue-black and giving her skin a surreal quality.

He held on.

Please don’t disappear.

“What?”

Her brows knitted together. She didn’t pull her arm away, but she was steadfast in her posture, not letting him push her around. Not that he ever could.

“He asked me to escort you back,” Jungkook found himself saying. “If not for your sake, then for his peace of mind. I don’t want to be a liar.”

Her features softened.

His fingers around her arm, touching that soft skin once more.

I care. I care a lot.

Jungkook realized that, in a way, he had never moved past those classrooms, those touches, those kisses, those moments.

“You can let go now.”

She said it patiently. Always patient with him despite his overzealous and sometimes clumsy antics, putting up with it even when she didn’t have to. He looked into those eyes and found those walls were falling away, little by little. Winged liner, red lipstick, it didn’t matter, it was the same expression, defiant eyes and hint of a scowl on those lips. Ready to fight, but not him.

She was always a fighter and the opponent was always life itself.

“I don’t want to let go.”

He didn’t expect himself to say the truth, but he did.

She smirked, reaching up, her fingers covering his tattoos for a moment, placing them on the back of his hand. This warmth. This feeling. It was not the same as the rest, and he knew that now.

“Hm, well, you must realize this looks a bit awkward. You wouldn’t want to give anyone the wrong impression, would you?”

Wouldn't want someone to see you talking to me, right?

“You will let me escort you?” he insisted.

She pried his hand from her arm and lowered it, turning the other way.

“You are welcome to do as you like. I won’t stop you, golden boy.”

time left: 06:41

He followed you, surrounded by moonlight reflecting off water.

It streamed through the windows, lighting the red carpeted hall along with the dim sconces. You found yourself stepping in each lighted square, avoiding the thin dark beams of the windows, a little game for yourself, like how children avoided the cracks in the concrete sidewalks, except you were on a lavish yacht wearing Louboutins with a handsome man in step behind you.

It was quiet and yet it wasn’t. Small sounds, footsteps, distant muffles of talking through the walls, the faint sound of bass as you walked away from the party, the sound of the ocean ever present, your own breathing.

Jungkook’s breathing.

Familiar.

Once yours.

You looked to your right, to the window, seeing his reflection. His profile, hands in his pockets, tattooed arm standing out against the black background of his clothes, dressed formally but always a bit sheepish about it, as if he wasn’t sure if it looked good on him, but it always did, even the school uniform. He still had the youthfulness about him, even as a man.

Your eyes found his and he was watching your face in the glass of the window.

You stopped abruptly, pivoting on one heel to face him.

Impulse.

Your younger self would have bristled, glaring, accusing the eyes and snapping, what are you looking at?

Jungkook started, realizing you had noticed, and tripped, his black hair suddenly disturbed and tumbling over his eyes as he struggled to catch himself, hands flying out of his pockets.

You caught one, lacing your fingers with his, and gripped tightly, yanking up.

He righted himself, gasping. Looking up, bent over and long legs awkward, somewhat like a fawn trying to get on its legs for the first time. Those big brown eyes, parted pink lips. Familiar.

Your joined hands fell exactly where the window beam was, shrouded in shadow.

“Something on your mind?” you chuckled, shaking your head.

He straightened. You loosened your grip on his hand, but he held on. You frowned slightly, raising your brows.

He swallowed hard.

“Can I hold your hand? Please.”

Back then, you would hold his hand, hiding behind corners and dashing past, holding your breath, light steps, leaping from shadow to shadow, bodies close, breath mixing. Showing him all the secrets of the school that you had found while wandering, a fun little game with a reward at the end, school uniform being shed, skin to skin, his body against yours, his heartbeat in time with yours, his lips on yours.

You shrugged and turned back around, his hand tightly around yours.

time left: 06:35

Jungkook held her hand.

In an instant, he looked down, staring at their joined hands.

This was different.

And then he saw them.

Scars, all over the back of her hand. He could feel the scar tissue on her palms too, lines on her fingers even though she was holding him loosely. He had memorized every centimeter of her beautiful hands from back then, and these lines were not here before. These were not scars from living life. These had been cuts, healed now, unseen from far away and even up close. Perhaps they had been filled in with tattoo ink in a color to match her skin tone so they were less noticeable.

No one would know unless they were holding her hand or looking for it.

Without knowing it, Jungkook clutched her hand tighter, a sudden ache in his chest.

He had found bruises on her sometimes.

I fell down the stairs. It's nothing.

He had found welts.

Stupid fight with some dumbass.

He had found a criss-cross pattern of cuts on her leg.

I tried to jump over a fence and fucked up.

He glanced at her other hand loosely by her side. The same. He could even see her palm and there were many, many lines, all over her palm, healed cuts. Drugs? But he knew it wasn’t. Not because he had a romanticized idea of who she would be in his head, but because that was the nice answer.

That was the reasonable answer.

“Oh!”

“Excuse me, miss.”

His eyes flickered upward to see a young woman in a short midnight blue dress pausing, looking from her to him, cheeks flushed, not being subtle about it. The glittery fabric picked up the moonlight, accenting her curves and long legs. Pretty.

But not sensual.

Not immaculate.

Not teasing and sculptural.

The grip on his hand tightened so much that he inhaled sharply, fingers nearly crushed by her hold.

“Have a nice evening,” the woman in black purred, edge of ice indicating the stranger to move along, or, more accurately, fuck right off.

Jungkook knew he shouldn’t, and yet.

His heart skipped two beats as she dragged him along.

He had no problem looking away from the other woman and fixate on the back of that neatly pinned, blue-black hair, graceful shoulders, corseted waist, swaying hips.

And her hand in his, not letting go.

time left: 06:22

“This is it.”

You turned to see Jungkook looking around, mouth open, gawking at the entrance of the intricately carved wooden door. It was one of the grander, first-class rooms. The red doors were much farther apart and the sconces here were glided with glass-blown lampshades, casting swirls of orange across the white walls, dimmed now from the late night.

“It was nice to see you again.”

It was, even with the bitter taste in your mouth that seemed to linger.

His eyes came back to you, dark brown and clear, focused on only your face, long black strands framing his cheeks, the small mole underneath his lower lip trembling.

“I hope you have your happiness now, Jungkook.”

You did.

You felt a strange, unmovable pressure on your chest. The time wasn’t up yet. You could still try. You could keep your hold on his hand and drag him into the room and hold him close to you, skin to skin, lips on his, and show him all you’ve learned. You could. You could see it in those eyes. He would follow you now, maybe because of the alcohol, maybe for old times sake, maybe out of impulse and bad choices.

You let go.

You let go, because you didn’t want to be a bad choice.

Not to him, Jeon Jungkook.

“You were my small happiness, back then,” you said softly, feeling yourself smile.

It was better not to have regrets. At the time, even you didn’t know how important he had been. The thought of being withdrawn from that school and not being able to see him again made you fight back for once, and it ended in the very thing you didn’t want. It fucked up your hands, it fucked up your life, but somehow you found yourself here now, in expensive clothes on an expensive boat with expensive tastes, able to make a choice between selfishness or selflessness.

Maybe you hadn’t changed much after all, since you found yourself choosing the latter.

You turned away and pulled your hand out of his.

Or would have, if Jungkook hadn’t grasped your hand tighter, yanking you back and shoving you against the door of your suite. Your hand automatically raised to push him back, but he put his whole weight on your body, sandwiching you between the door and himself, making you gasp, trapped between dead timber and muscular hardness.

Now his face was in your face, breathing hard, dark brown orbs shaking and shining with wetness.

You froze, lips parting.

“You were my happiness too.”

He was panting, warm exhale on your lips.

“Not a small happiness. The happiness.”

He squeezed your hand like you were going to disappear.

“I didn’t know then, but I do now,” Jungkook shuddered, towering over you even in your heels. He stared into your eyes. “Your smile.”

You blinked slowly, confused.

“Your smile. I’ve never seen it reach your eyes.”

Heart racing, suddenly breathless.

“Except when you thought I couldn’t see, like when my back was turned or my face was turned away from you,” he whispered, leaning his forehead against yours, long black hair curtaining your faces, sending you back to the shadows. “I saw it though, in reflections. In windows. In mirrors. In those beakers in the science room.”

Was that so? Had that been you? You made it a point not to smile back then, because there had been nothing to smile about. But maybe… maybe when eyes weren’t on you, maybe when you yourself didn’t notice, but, somehow, Jungkook had noticed.

You realized that your introspection had diverted your attention from him, so you made eye contact again, airless at his closeness. Your eyes and his, lost in sweet dreams.

“I want to kiss you.”

He tilted his head and hesitated.

“I want to kiss you all the time,” he said to your lips.

His expression was clouded with shame. It was ugly. It made his handsome features ugly and you didn’t like that. You wanted to make it go away. You closed more distance, fingers pressing down on the back of his hand, your other hand raising and resting on his hip, lashes lowering.

“Then kiss me,” you said to his lips.

time left: 06:13

Jungkook kissed her.

From then and now, it was the same.

Euphoria.

But this time, it wasn’t clumsy with colliding teeth and too much tongue that did nothing, sloppy with no purpose. This time, his lips were soft at first and so were hers, breathing in each other’s scent. She smelled warm and musky, like blackberry and evergreens, expensive and lush, but somehow still her, still that girl from back then, comforting and intense, sometimes with the hint of metallic blood, but that never bothered him. Her hand on his hip, stroking it under the layers of fabric, making him shiver, caressing the back of his hand with her fingertips, delicate sigh in his mouth.

The faintest flicker of tongue on the edge of her upper lip, swiping down into his open mouth.

He moaned, feeling the strong wet muscle thrust into his lips, coaxing his tongue, teasing, pressing her body to his, breasts against his chest, their deep open necklines exchanging heat in the air between their skin but not quite touching, and he found himself letting go of her hand, reaching up to grab her breasts.

Her fingers closed around his wrists, forcing him to stop.

He gasped in her mouth, eyes opening.

“They’re not stress balls, Jungkook,” she snickered.

He was breathing hard, ribcage shuddering, heartbeat thundering in his ears, getting louder as he realized her red lipstick was a little messed up, feeling the stickiness on his own lips.

“You need to slow down. You can’t just grope me out in the open.”

His impatience spoke for him.

“Why not?”

His voice was low, octave deepened from lust.

Her lips curved into an amused smirk. “Oh? You have changed. You used to be so worried about someone seeing us. If anything, you should be more worried now, considering your beloved.”

“She’s not my beloved.”

She was still holding his wrists, but her head tilted, watching his eyes carefully. He sucked in a shuddering breath, feeling the guilt.

“We… we thought it would be a good idea. Because our friends told us we look nice together. It would help her career. I wouldn’t have to invest too much into it.”

He felt ashamed, but he didn’t look away because he didn’t want her to think he was lying.

“I never found a smile like yours. I accepted that I never would.”

Her eyes darkened.

“It’s dangerous, Jungkook. Ill-advised.”

He smiled and he didn’t know if it reached his eyes because his vision was blurry.

But he knew it wasn’t a lie.

“You always were. I should have chased you to the ends of the earth, even if you were only a ghost.”

He lifted his hands, hers with his, and cupped her face, running his fingertips over her cheeks, smooth and soft skin, transported back to that moment in the abandoned literature club room, her face cast in an orange glow, actually swirls from glass-blown sconces, but the past and present connected, turning it into rays from the setting sun that lit up her features, and he said what he had said then, because it was the truth.

“You’re really pretty.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“You are.”

He leaned forward and kissed the side of her lips gently.

She chuckled.

“You really are something, Jeon Jungkook.”

Her hands let go and she reached into the deep neckline of her dress, plucking something from the corset. His eyes widened as she pulled out the key card from between her breasts, smirk dancing on her lips. She winked at him.

“A lady has many hiding places.”

She flicked her wrist and inserted it into the door, unlocking it without looking.

The door opened and they stepped into her room.

time left: 06:02

“Hnnnnnnngh…”

“Dude can snore.”

“Help me turn him to his side. Don’t want him to vomit in his mouth and asphyxiate,” Kim Namjoon grunted, helped by Kim Seokjin, jerking Kim Taehyung’s body to the side. They backed up and Taehyung immediately flopped to his back, snoring away.

Seokjin thinned his mouth into a line. “Seriously?”

“Ah, here, let’s roll up the towels and use them to prop him up.”

“He’s not as cute as she is.”

“Well, she also doesn’t get piss drunk... ever.”

“Still a better cuddle buddy. Comes with built-in pillows.”

Namjoon blinked at Seokjin and shook his head, letting the odd comment slide. They managed to jam the bath towels next to Taehyung and force him to lay on his side, placing a pillow in his arms that he immediately hugged, squeezing it tightly. The snoring lessened as well.

“Guess we should go back,” Namjoon sighed, rubbing the back of his short hair.

Seokjin scoffed. “No, we shouldn’t. They’re probably all over each other as we speak.”

Namjoon frowned, raised an eyebrow at the other man. “Really? I don’t know. She seemed very hesitant about it. She said she didn’t love him.”

Seokjin snorted, somehow still elegant with his handsome face. “You really believe that?”

“That’s what she said.”

Seokjin rolled his eyes. “That’s what everybody says when they don’t want to admit they’re in love with someone.”

“That’s also what people say when they are, factually, not in love with someone.”

The black-haired man raised his hands and held up his index fingers, wriggling them in the air and bending them ninety-degrees, squiggling them around each other and poking the tips together repeatedly. Namjoon blinked at him.

“What are you doing?”

Seokjin rolled his eyes as if it was despairingly obvious what he was doing. “A visual representation of what they’re doing right now.”

Namjoon contorted his face in confusion, raising an eyebrow.

“… Becoming worms…?”

Seokjin groaned. “Having sex, Namjoon.”

“… How is that…?”

time left: 05:53

The door to his dreams unsealed and they tumbled inside.

The orange glow of the hallway lights spilled into the room, bleeding into the cool glow that came from the open windows, curtains pulled back to reveal the shimmering sea and bright moon, a contrast of artificial dusk and true nightfall. She pulled him in by his belt, hooking two fingers under the leather, step by sweeping step, grace that made him breathless, orange and silver and shadow, all mixing together, and then the door closed and then the sea and the moon replaced the sunset dreams.

It was a heavy thunk, closing with finality.

The room had many ornate mirrors in it to make the room seem bigger. The had gold vintage frames of different shapes and sizes, reflecting the contents of the room, the large bed and red silk sheets, the black leather chairs and black marble table bolted down to the floor, the matching marble vanity laid out with several black leather cosmetic bags, all zipped up neatly. The had small details on them – red zippers, silver locks, the designer logo engraved into the leather. The suitcases leaning against the wall matched the cosmetic bags, three of them, one larger than the first two.

Jungkook breathed her name, raising his hand, fingers spread.

Her fingertips touched his, halting him.

“Let me do it.”

He spied his expression in one of the mirrors.

The silver moonlight lit up his face and his eyes, reflecting the lust and trust in them.

He looked back to her and nodded.

“Okay.”

Glamour. Fantasy. Descent.

That was the only way he could describe the way she moved, glamour in the way her hand slowly retreated from his, a steady wave and sweep, clearly deliberate. Even in smeared lipstick, the small smirk was present on those lips, stepping around him with a swing of her hips and gentle clicks of her black patent leather heels, the slinky fabric flowing with her actions and also clinging to her body at the same time, using the arc of her stride to spread open the high slit. Letting him watch. He almost turned to follow but she placed a few fingers on his arm, purring softly.

“Don’t move.”

Fantasy, the way she slipped behind him like a shadow, and then Jungkook had to look up into the mirrors, catching glimpses of her behind him. There was no music, but she moved as if there was. If anything, the sound of the waves seemed to form its own music, and he was suddenly more aware of it, the splashes against the hull of the boat mixing with the bass of his heartbeat and the wispiness of her breath, stepping up behind him, body heat making him gasp, looking into a mirror to his left, a window illuminating his right, her hands slipping between the space of his ribs and upper arms, fingers spread like wings, warm exhale on his neck.

No words.

Just a simple kiss to the base of his head and her lips murmuring his name on his skin.

Descent.

One by one, teasing the buttons apart, her fingers ghosting the exposed skin, his heart racing as he watched those hands, peeling apart the button placket, unwrapping him like a decadent sweet. He watched his own expression framed by long curls of black, his teeth sinking into his lower lip, small mole below quivering, seeing more and more of his chest being exposed, somewhat self-conscious, but there was something spellbinding about only being able to see her hands and forearms, pointed black nails decorated with crystals that caught the light, undoing all the buttons until she reached his pants.

“I can–”

“Shh. Don’t let your impatience prevent you from enjoying your own striptease.”

His cheeks heated a little and he lowered his hands, breath hiking as she firmly gripped the bottom of his shirt and pulled it out. Jungkook took a step back, his back hitting her chest, and gasped again, feeling the softness, but she adjusted her position so her body wasn’t touching his anymore, chiding him playfully.

“Never had someone take off your clothes, Jungkook?” she chuckled against his neck, making his hairs stand on end.

“Ah, well…”

He watched those deft fingers undo the last two buttons. Then they spread apart his black shirt, reaching in, fingertips spreading out over his abs and pecs, tracing the contours of his muscles, switching between her nails and the pads of her fingertips, prickling and dainty. He couldn’t sure her face, but he saw his, and only now registered his own moans, so absorbed by her sensual movement and her touch that he didn’t even realize the embarrassing sounds falling from his lips.

“Not… since you…”

She snickered. “Seriously? What fool wouldn’t want to tear the clothes off this lovely body?”

He could feel and see his flush in the mirror. He looked away quickly, down to her hands exploring his body. “Well, I just… figured it’s easier if I do it. No one has ever been like you.”

“Hmm.”

His hands raised. He traced her knuckles, causing her to pause, caressing small circles on his sternum.

“You want to tear the clothes off my body?” he breathed, not daring to see his own reflection and know his reaction to whatever her answer was.

“I do.”

He placed his left hand on hers, heart beating faster and faster.

“Not tonight though.”

He pulled her palm away from his racing heart, not wanting her to know her effect on him, letting it linger beside his ribcage.

“Tonight, I will show you all I’ve learned, because I was always a better student than you, class representative.”

He found himself laughing a little, suddenly sheepish. “Yeah. Your name was always in the top five percent. I was pretty bad at school. I don’t know why everyone voted for–oooh…”

Her fingers touched his nipples, rubbing delicately, sending strange shivers all over him, shallowing his breath, making him look up and see his dark nipples being teased by expert hands. Her nails nicked them lightly and he whined in his throat, feeling them harden against her fingertips, surprised at the arousal from the simple touch, something he never paid attention to or cared about. His hair was covering part of his face.

Jungkook reached up and pushed his hair back, pressing his chest into those hands.

Saw one of her eyes behind his head, sharp and sultry with winged liner, twinkling as she watched him.

“I voted for you because I thought it would be funny since you weren’t even trying.”

He didn’t really have a response for that, too busy looking at his own face and body, shivering as she tweaked his nipples and pushed them in slow circles, his arms descending to lower the shadows, letting them suspend by his sides.

She shifted beside him and half of her lips appeared, on the toes of her heels, whispering close to his ear, seductive and dark.

“You were good-looking then, and you’re even more handsome now, Jungkook.”

The sound of the ocean, the silver moonlight shining off her blue-black hair giving her skin a surreal quality, almost doll-like, the mirror reflecting his expression, desire and anticipation.

She removed her hands and grabbed the collar of his shirt, yanking it down.

He inhaled sharply and her face disappeared.

Dress shirt stripped from his body and flung away, the crisp black fabric flaring out, a shadow cast aside.

Jungkook spun around.

Does this man know the meaning of calm the fuck down?

You rolled your eyes inwardly as you witnessed Jungkook turn around, facing you again even though you told him not to the move. He had always been like this, overzealous, but he didn’t seem as clumsy as before, although…

He grabbed your tits.

Hah.

He blinked rapidly, surprised. “Huh?”

You shook your head and knocked his hands away, sighing. “Pasties, Jungkook. To cover my nipples.”

You reached into your dress and scooped your breasts out, trapping them between the v-neckline. His eyes bulged slightly when he saw the smooth black satin circles flush to the apex of your breasts. They fit perfectly, seamless so they were unseen even under the slinky fabric of the black gown.

“W-Whoa…”

“What? I’m a burlesque dancer. Of course, I have fancy nipple covers. This is basic wardrobe.”

He tilted his head. “I’ve never seen any like these. They look like they’re part of your body.”

You tutted. “Obviously, they aren’t. You know I have nipples.”

And you reached up and peeled them off, flinging them aside carelessly.

Jungkook gasped, staring at your nipples with wide eyes.

“Don’t act like you haven’t seen nipples,” you scowled. “You better not be a virgin with how hot you’ve become.”

His hands shot up and you grabbed his wrists again, forcing them back down.

Jungkook whined, eyes shifting back up to you, begging to touch them.

You stiffened slightly. What kind of reaction was that?

“They’re so big,” he whispered huskily, visibly shuddering, shaking with the craving to touch them. “I remember they were soft. And…” His breathing hitched, trembling in your hands. “I remember they tasted so good. Amazing. No one has ever tasted as good as you.”

His eyes flickered back down, biting his lip. He tried to break free, but you held. A single glance exchanged and you let go, realizing he was going to do something other than attack them. Instead, he collected the straps of your dress and pulled them back up, slowly, moaning as the slinky black fabric skimmed over your breasts, your prominent nipples sticking out, hardening from the light friction.

“Fuck, that’s so fucking sexy.”

Well, maybe he did have some appreciation for the visual after all.

“You see why I need the pasties.”

He pulled the straps up, whimpering as he watched your nipples strain against your dress, lifting your breasts in the confines of the fabric and lowering them, lifting, lowering, repeating the gesture.

You raised an eyebrow.

“Jungkook… are you bouncing my tits on purpose?”

His dark brown orbs darted to you. Guilty.

“Um… y-you won’t let me touch them…”

You weren’t sure whether to sigh or to laugh. You just shook your head, backing up out of his grasp. His hands were still outstretched, lips forming a small pout. You almost regretted it, but his expression quickly changed as you casually flicked down the straps, freeing your breasts again, dropping his hands and linking them together under his waist, waiting, now invested in what you had in store.

Oh.

He chewed on his lip and gave you an expectant look.

A flutter in your chest.

The side of your lips curved upward, tongue sliding out to graze the edge of your upper lip before disappearing.

You reached back, leisurely undoing the fastenings of the corset, sweeping your legs so the high slit flared apart, turning around, letting him witness the slow undress. Every action was deliberate, the wide arc of your leg moving the skirt aside to prevent you from tripping as you turned without using your hands, the wide stance of your feet to relieve pressure on your heels and to prevent the dress from sliding down too soon, and even the position of your fingers, poised so you could run a nail down your spine as two of them pinched the hook-and-eye and separated them, traveling down to the top of your ass. Every movement was thought out, details that made up the bigger picture, constructing your ultimate goal.

A sensual striptease.

You caught his reaction in a mirror to your right.

His sparkling brown eyes were wide, jaw dropped.

A lot of people had seen you take off your clothes, but no one made you feel as satisfied as Jeon Jungkook, then in his school uniform and now shirtless in his slacks, hands twisting in front of his crotch.

Then you saw your face.

You were smiling.

You really did smile when you thought he wasn’t looking.

Another glimpse at his face and you found him staring at you, silver moonlight glinting off his eyebrow piercing and flooding into his eyes, bringing out the stars within.

You released your hand and your dress tumbled to the ground.

He sucked in a shuddering breath, your name drifting from his lips.

“H… Holy shit…”

You did have an amazing waist-to-ass ratio.

Proper corset training and specific hit workouts to perfect your craft contributed. You couldn’t simply be pretty. You had to be strong and flexible to do the stunts and to walk in your red bottoms for the entire performance. Christian Louboutin didn’t make his shoes to be comfy. He made heels to make feet look enticing and sexy.

The price to pay for glamour and vanity.

It did give you some powerful calves though.

You lifted one shoe, flashing that blazingly red sole of your heel, balancing on one leg for a second.

This was to prevent you from getting tangled on your now fallen dress. You tightened your core, shifting your weight, knowing it would give Jungkook an irresistible view of your plump derriere in your high French-cut black satin panties, the particular style adding illusion to the already stark proportion.

In short, your ass looked fucking fabulous.

You stepped out of your dress, one leg, then the other, taking care not to step on it, adding a little flourish of your hands to create those body lines, ever the performer. You glanced at the mirror and was pleased to find Jungkook hadn’t moved, although his hands were now firmly open, palms down on his crotch, whimpering in his throat.

“Soon,” you promised, and you would keep it.

He nodded, swallowing hard.

You turned your fingers inward, hooking each index finger on the sides of your panties, rocking your hips slowly, lowering your lashes, following the beat of the sea, tugging down the right side a few centimeters and then the left, listening to his breathing and controlling yours. You bent over slowly at the hips, sticking your ass out, listening to his low moan as your glistening slit was revealed, sliding your undergarments down your thighs and calves, placing them carefully onto the floor.

You gradually straightened, breathing out, keeping it as one smooth motion.

You stepped out of your panties.

Now you were clad in only your black patent Louboutins and black diamond choker.

This time, you found your reflection in the mirror to delicately correct your smeared red lipstick with your fingertips. Good enough. You nodded at your reflection. The corners of your mouth curved upwards.

You turned to face him, showing Jungkook your smile.

This smile was real.

The smile she only showed when she was with him. He didn’t know if that was a valid thought or not, but he liked to think so. Besides, no smile meant as much as this one. That he was sure of, because he had been chasing this smile for all these years before finally accepting that he would never find another one like it. It was too precious to belong to anyone else.

His smile.

If his dick wasn’t trying to rip open his pants, Jungkook might have cried seeing it for the first time.

He couldn’t speak, too afraid he was going to lose it right then and there.

She walked towards him.

No, walk wasn’t the correct word. Strode, strut, glided, fuck, he didn’t know, she just moved as fluidly as a shadow and water combined, silver moonlight glistening off her skin and her diamonds, and he knew he would never love the mere act of walking more than when he watched her move.

She stilled.

He stopped breathing.

Her foot raised, toes tracing the inside of the heel, raising the pointed toe, balancing it on the stiletto, and she flicked it backward, causing it to tumble and somersault backward, falling to its side.

Fuck.

She thought of everything.

She balanced on tiptoe and did the same to the other shoe, discarding it with a swift tick.

He made a less-than-elegant noise of her name mixed with a needy whine.

“P… Please…”

Jungkook was quite sure he was a hair’s breath away from ripping off his pants to get some relief.

She finally made her way to stand in front of him. Smile so close now, emphasized by painted lips.

Her hands closed over his, peeling them away from his crotch, holding them loosely. She leaned forward, placing a delicate kiss on his lips. Deep, meaningful, nothing flashy. Drew back, still smiling.

This smile.

He wanted to protect it forever.

“I should have told you that I love you, but I didn’t know it then,” he whispered.

She chuckled.

“I know now.”

She was lowering herself as he spoke, tilting her head at him, inviting him to continue. Getting to her knees, positioning her feet right under her ass, neat and orderly. His hands dropped, leaving hers on his belt, undoing the buckle, her gaze still on him. Looking up at him with amusement, diamonds glittering on her throat, perky tits and nipples, thighs on display, kneeling in front of his crotch.

“I love you.”

Jungkook meant it, every syllable.

He never meant it more in her life.

“I know.”

What?

She casually undid his belt and slid the closure open, unzipping his slacks.

“Wait… what?” he sputtered, blinking rapidly.

“I know you love me,” she repeated calmly.

Jungkook had time for a single blink before his pants were yanked down to his knees. He started, almost falling over, but her hands came up behind his legs and gripped them, keeping him upright.

“Careful,” she purred, stroking the backs of his thighs.

He jerked his head down, hardly able to breathe, shock blossoming as she leaned forward, hot breath warming his black boxer briefs. Eyes on his face, pink tongue extending.

“O-Oh, fuuuck…”

She planted her tongue over his hardness and soaked it with saliva, wetting the fabric and tracing the outline, molding his underwear to his length, sending him into gasping shivers, heat from her tongue and then her lips closing, blowing a cool stream over it, hot and cold, sensation and deprivation, too much and not enough, placing kisses all over and he flinched with every one, savoring the feeling, the touch that was familiar and unfamiliar, everything he wanted.

“W-Wait… that’s dirty…”

“Not as dirty as the things I want to do to you.”

Not as dirty as the things I want to do to you.

Pants racking his torso, looking down, and it was the same but different, her lips kissing up his abs, his chest, back to his face, holding him to her, lipstick smeared and now on his skin. Open mouth to elegantly parted lips, gasping as she collected her breasts and pressed her nipples to his chest, squashing the softness to his pecs.

“Spit on my cleavage,” she breathed.

“W-What?”

She raised an eyebrow, knowing that he heard her perfectly well, squeezing her breasts together and rubbing them on his chest, sending the electric sensation of her large nipples dragging across his heartbeat, rolling her shoulders to the beat of the sea, bathed in silver moonlight.

“Spit on my tits, Jungkook.”

“I… c-couldn’t… do that to you…” he moaned, pitch hiking with pleasure.

She didn’t chide him to cover his mouth this time, instead smirking wider, licking her teeth. “Sure, you can. Do it, golden boy. Spit on me.”

She hooked a leg over his hip and grinded her crotch to his wet one, causing him to whine, knowing his cock was so close to her pussy but not yet skin to skin, the soaked fabric barrier driving him insane, his hands coming up to grip her waist and press her down on him, staring into her eyes, inhale shaky and erratic.

She smiled, teasing, sculptural, his.

“You trust me?”

Jungkook was drunk on something he didn’t understand and it was love.

“Yeah…”

He leaned forward, capturing her lips, an intense, burning kiss. She smiled into his kiss, and he knew she was aware of his nervousness, but she remained patient as she always was, pressing back daintily, taking his breath away. He broke apart, trembling.

She nodded, telling him it was okay.

He collected saliva at the tip of his tongue and looked down, spitting into her cleavage.

It shot out of his mouth, splattering over the swell of her breasts and onto his own chest. His ears burned, self-conscious at the dirty act, but she moaned deliciously, backing up, his saliva dripping down and stuck to the inside curve of her breasts. He had a moment to appreciate the image, the most beautiful woman in the world with her diamond choker and his spit on her tits glistening in the moonlight reflected by the sea.

“Wow.”

That was all he could say as the image burned into his memory.

She smirked, falling to her knees, tugging his black boxer briefs down his thighs, his stiff cock popping out, bobbing in the air at the suddenness of its release, and then trapped once more, except this time not in drenched fabric but in her soft, saliva-covered breasts – or his saliva, depending on how he thought about it – but he couldn’t think about it, abrupt pleasure shooting up his spine, throwing his head back in a moan, eyes darting everywhere, surrounded by mirrors, reflections of his face, his long black hair a wild mess, his facial features consumed by wanton lust, his throbbing cock jammed between her breasts and her body sliding up and down, her large nipples rubbing against his crotch and thighs, oh, fuck, the sensation insane, soft and rough and wet, her perfectly pinned hair leaving only the curls at the ends bouncing from her effort.

She spit down his length, adding to the lubrication and her name burst out of his mouth in an erratic groan.

“F-Fuck…!”

She pushed his cock up, almost uncomfortable, but then her mouth closed around the tip, tongue swirling, and he was lost again, ecstasy as she switched to blowing him, pressing her breasts to his thighs, smearing the saliva on them too, covering his cock in red lipstick, soaking every centimeter with saliva, running her tongue over the veins and the head, his hands clenching into fists, close, so close, and then she popped her mouth off, leaving him near tears and in whines.

“P-Please, let me cum, please…”

“I want you to cum on my necklace,” she panted, planting his cock in her cleavage again, lacing her fingers over it, pressing the head down into the slick skin, shock of her words and the escalating pleasure, his chin lowering and staring down at glittering black diamonds and the engorged tip of his length popping in and out of her breasts.

“You want me to… cum on your necklace…?” he echoed hollowly, in utter disbelief.

“Fuck yes, I do,” she grinned, tip of her tongue flickering at the edge of her lips. “Cum on my diamonds, Jungkook.”

Well, fuck.

This was the worst surreal and hottest moment of his life.

He clenched his jaw and thrust his hips into her chest, adding to the stimulation, chasing it, seeing her grin grow, devilish and devious, squeezing him tighter, faster, faster, faster, his hands and his body shaking, gripped by pleasure and her hold, panting her name over and over, his prayer, his drug, his lifeline, trying to hold out, the line inside him pulled taut, thinner and thinner, snapping.

“F-Fuck, I’m gonna cum!”

His hips jolted and he forced them upward, her head tipping back as the thick red tip popped out, twitching and splattering thick streams of white, painting the black diamonds with his white orgasm, clinging to the jewels and her collarbones, dripping down, covering her with his strong and masculine scent. She lifted her body, trapping his jolting cock in her breasts, and he moaned helplessly, rutting against her skin, sparks of pleasure shooting through his veins, uncontrollable flinching and shuddering as more dribbled out, milked out by the tightness.

“Oooooooh, f-fuck… fuck, I’m s-so sorry…” he gasped out, wincing at the mess he made.

“Ah, shut up, Jungkook.”

In awe, he watched her back up slightly, strings of his orgasm all over her breasts, chest, and diamonds.

She smiled and dipped her fingers in it, coating them with his cum and bringing them to her smeared red lips, licking them off one by one, pink tongue slipping between her elegant digits, moaning as she drank up his taste.

Eyes on his, drunk on him.

time left: --:--

Kim Namjoon leaned against Kim Seokjin’s shoulder, listening to the other man’s deep breathing.

They were sitting on the plush green couch in Kim Taehyung’s room.

The night was quiet, nothing but the sound of the waves coming through the open window, a light breeze as Namjoon watched the moon reflect off the ocean. Seokjin had already fallen asleep, head resting against the back of the sofa, tired from the day’s events and needing the rest. Namjoon felt the drowsiness beginning to weigh on him too, using Seokjin’s wide shoulder as his headrest. He had opened the window to prevent the room from getting too stuffy.

It would have been more comfortable to be in that giant bed with the one he was paid to protect, but he hoped she was in good hands now.

He smiled to himself, watching the silver moonlight dance off the choppy waters.

His mind went back to those moments, moments when he had to hold her shoulders and remind her of who and where she was, moments when he sat and waited as she clenched her teeth and a skilled medical tattoo artist filled in those white scars all over her hands, moments of when she finally sat him and Seokjin down and told them why she sometimes woke up at night, screaming and crying, yelling the names of past demons.

She had told them she was sorry, sorry for being weak, sorry for not taking responsibility.

Seokjin had scoffed, smacking her lightly on the head. “Are you an idiot? You have been through enough. Stop it with that nonsense. It’s part of our job, so let us do our job.”

After that, Namjoon would make it a point to check up on her at night, reaching over to soothe her brow as she slept, relaxing her face with gentle touches. He wanted to be there in case she woke up from a nightmare, and it became a habit, until Seokjin too elbowed himself in the bed, muttering that she always got the best digs anyway, so why shouldn’t he? He was handsome enough, after all.

They only accompanied her to events or appearances.

It bothered Namjoon to think that sometimes she was alone in her own home, waking up screaming and crying, and that he couldn’t be there.

He wondered what would come of this.

Jeon Jungkook.

Did he know that if he broke her heart that two ‘big-scary-dudes-with-massive-shoulders’ were going to find his ass and rearrange it?

Hm.

Namjoon closed his eyes, letting the night take him under its wing.

time left: error

The black diamond choker was on the vanity, covered in Jungkook’s cum.

Both of your clothes were on the floor, shoes, pants, dress, undergarments, strewn all over, a mess, along with a now cold, wet, white bath towel that smelled like semen and saliva. It had what was left of your red lipstick on it.

One of the designer cosmetic bags was open.

There were condoms scattered on the bed now, thrown over the red silk sheets.

Jungkook was holding your hands, palms up, tenderly kissing them.

It felt strange, his soft lips on your scars.

Most people didn’t realize it. It wasn’t something they looked for or thought to think twice about, because to them, your hands had always been like that. It would be rude to comment or mention it even if they had noticed.

But Jungkook had known your hands before they became like this.

“It’s why I stopped going to school.”

He kissed the pads of your fingertips, looking at you with those dark brown orbs.

“Did something bad happen?”

You smiled, somewhere between sad and apologetic.

“I wanted to make sure that I could still see you, but unfortunately I ended up doing the exact opposite.”

He squeezed your hands tightly, giving you his own smile. “Still, you came back to me.”

You chuckled ruefully. “Not with the best intentions.”

The silver moonlight highlighted all your favorite features, the cupid’s bow of his lips, the tiny mole underneath, the wrinkle of his nose with his smile, the stars in his eyes.

“You’ve always been dangerous and ill-advised for me, but I always liked that about you.”

You arched a brow. “Hm, you were a shitty class representative, huh?”

Jungkook shrugged. “You weren’t really a class delinquent either.”

You shook your head, pulling your hands out of his. “Look at you. What kind of class presentative gets all these tattoos?” you teased, dancing your fingers up his right forearm and elbow, tracing the outlines of the script and graphics, following the swirls of the clouds and flower petals with your nails, listening to his shallow breath at your touch. “And an eyebrow piercing? Are you trying to tell everyone you’re one of the cool kids now?”

His lips twisted into a small frown. “Am I cool?”

You shrugged. “Every time I hear about the cool kids in our grade, it’s just about how they got knocked up too early or how they dropped out of university, so you tell me.”

“I haven’t gotten knocked up.”

You gave him a look, bordering on impatience.

“Wait, I mean–”

You raised a hand and planted it on his chest, pushing him down on the bed.

“Enough. Stop talking, please.”

You crawled over his body, placing your hands by his head, looking down at him. Jungkook stared up at you, long black hair splayed over the pillows. He was definitely a man now, sharp jawline, manicured brows, slight dark circles from long nights, and, as you leaned down, expensive cologne now, still light and clean but with a twist of sharpness and sweet fruit, still with the same warmth. Your lips pressed against his jaw, leaving kisses, sinking your weight onto him, skin to skin, his gasps under you, and now it seemed like you were back in that time, his teenage self and your teenage self, the same eagerness as his arms surrounded you, running his hands down your back, but now he added his nails, making you hum in approval. He did it more, scratching his nails over your spine as you kissed his jaw, his throat, his ear, jingling his earrings with your tongue, whispering against his skin.

“No one has ever been what you are to me.”

You didn’t bother using past tense, because it wasn’t.

You sat down on his thigh, his semi-hard cock twitching against your skin, turned on by your kisses and your tongue toying with his ear.

“You weren’t even very good, you know. You were kinda shit. Too impatient.”

He shuddered, tensing his forearms against your sides.

“I’m b-better now…” he whimpered, turning into a moan as you bit his ear and rubbed your wetness on his thigh, painting it with your juices. You kept it slow, leisurely, with even pressure.

“Still…”

You lifted your head, bringing your fingers inward, slipping them into his hair, pushing it back, caressing his temple with your thumbs.

“I have loved you all this time, Jungkook, even back then when I didn’t know what love was, when I was only chasing a feeling that was different from all the others.”

His eyes widened, stunned by your words.

“Ah, nevertheless, I came back too late.”

“No.”

His hands on your back, holding you tightly to him.

“I want to kiss you all the time,” he whispered, words from long ago, bringing them back. “And I will.”

He raised his forehead and touched yours.

“I know it’s not fair, I know it’s bad, I know it’s terrible, but I’ll be fucked up if you can’t be right here, with me.”

His lips to yours, small kisses and closed eyes, hiding his tears behind his lashes.

“You are the happiness, and if you continue to love me, I will never let you go.”

That’s what Jungkook said, but the sentiment was slightly interrupted by his cock being so hard that it was actually raising your thigh up into the air.

You smiled against his lips, chuckling.

“I guess I’ll bring a towel when you get her cocktail splashed into your face.”

“Maybe two. She has a lot of internet friends.”

“Hm.”

You lifted your head, smirking.

“Well, I can’t say it would be the first relationship I’ve ruined, although those were far more indirect.”

Jungkook tried to make the moment romantic, but her naked body was on top of him with her wet pussy rubbing on his thigh and his dick was coming back to life right in the middle of his speech.

Still, he couldn’t really complain, because at the moment he was ripping open a condom, on his knees between her legs, rolling it down, eyes roaming over her body lines, poised and elegant and sexy, her hair flared out on the pillows, still neatly pinned up, some kind of sorcery, but that didn’t surprise Jungkook, for she had always had her spell on him and he was better for it.

“You want missionary?” she teased.

He bit his lip, nodding.

“I want to watch your face.”

Her tongue flickered out on the edge of her upper lip, accenting the high point of her smirk.

“Good, then I can watch yours.”

He positioned himself in front of her, pausing for a second, unsure now, but she simply grinned and reached between her legs, one hand on his length and the other on his hip, digging her nails into his ass and shoving him inside her.

“Oh, fuck!”

She seemed highly amused, but he was gone, sudden tightness and wetness enveloping him, pitching forward and catching himself on his palms, sinking into red silk, the intensity bursting from his core and washing over him, shuddering and gasping as she gripped his ass with both hands and sank him down into her pussy, down, down, drowning in the feeling, diving into the depths of pleasure, fuck, he felt it everywhere, her walls clenching and wrapped around his length, the sensitive head rubbing against the ridges, and the emotions that rushed through him as he looked into her eyes, a little humiliated that it affected him so much, a little shocked at how good it felt even with the condom, and a lot of lust and trust and love, all rolling into one, and she purred his name, smooth and silky and gentle, and he couldn’t help himself, slowly rolling his hips and smacking down hard, burying himself to the base, eyelids fluttering, feeling it radiate over his body.

“Too... hard?” he choked out, trying to be considerate, desperate not to fuck up.

She shook her head, snickering.

“Not even close.”

“How can I–?”

But she didn’t let him finish, tapping the mandala flower tattoo on his right elbow and he raised his arms, at loss for words and breath when she raised her legs to his shoulders and tugged his forearms back down, his hands landing on the bed once more.

Oh no.

This was tighter.

“Fuck me, Jungkook, and make it rough.”

I can’t talk or I will blow my load in two seconds.

He nodded, tensing his jaw, and smacked his crotch down, her thighs smacking against his chest.

Oh, fuck me.

He wished he could sound less desperate and less ruined, but he simply didn’t have the capacity for that any longer, tumbling into a series of wild moans as he built up the pace, wave after wave of pleasure crashing into him, too much sensation, soft thighs, wet tightness squeezing his throbbing length, her hands on his upper arms, holding on tightly, his name falling from her mouth along with her erotic exhale. He loved every sound she made, every single one, her moan, her hiss, her growl, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, that’s it, give it to me, Jungkook, loved the way she looked at him, a mixture of bliss and slyness, loved the sound their bodies made, a harsh rhythmic smack, louder and louder, messing up the sheets, her head tipping back, eyes closing, fuck, yes, gonna cum if you keep going like that, so he did, hard, firm, powerful slaps of skin-to-skin, feeling so good but holding himself back, biting his lip hard and moaning in his throat, not willing to orgasm until he made her do so, at least twice.

Jungkook was being ridiculous, he knew, but he wouldn’t forgive himself if he lost it too soon during his first time inside her.

“Mmm, fuck, Jungkook, fuck!”

A sharp throb and then a cascading effect, brutal massages of his length, and he didn’t even realize it, pausing for a second from the strength of her orgasm, his cock clenched all over and squeezed, shocking pleasure that made his eyes roll back, struggling with every fiber of his being to not explode, edging himself by ceasing his thrust, and then he drew back and rammed back into her, clawing up the sheets to press her further down into the bed, nearly bending her in half, but she didn’t seem to mind, gripping his arms and raising her hips to meet him, deeper now, the head being constricted even tighter by this changed angle, him sucking in a deep inhale, smelling blackberry, evergreen, and sex, the sweet smell of her pussy, reminding him of sitting on the bus on his way home and catching that scent on his hands and clothes, not regretting it, loving her mark on him.

It was better now.

Better because he was actually in her pussy.

And better because her teeth caught the side of her lower lip, a second of lost control, lashes lowering, moan in her mouth, his name, his name, his name leaking from her lips.

“Oh, Jungkook…”

He would never tire of it.

Never.

It burst again, a lewd squelch, and the insides of his thighs were soaked with viscous honey, clinging to his balls, violent throbs around his jerking length and Jungkook was gone, gone, everything accumulating at the peak and shattering down, his deep moan flooding the room, shooting his orgasm into the condom as his quivering cock was clenched all around, unbearable euphoria that he welcomed, letting it consume every nerve and vibrate through him, a feeling he never wanted to end.

He let it swallow him, her ocean, her moonlight, her night, and he promised himself that he would never leave.

All in all, Jeon Jungkook hadn’t changed much. That was alright. It was clear that you both had unfinished business in the past that was being hashed out right now.

Through sex, because how else?

He was behind you, both of you kneeling on the bed, his breath on your skin, murmuring your name, wonderment and desire, leaving a trail of kisses on your shoulders and neck.

“You can bite me, you know.”

He nipped at your skin experimentally. You pinched his finger on your upper arm, the little sheepish emoji on his middle right. He squeaked and bit harder. You hummed approvingly, lowering your hand.

“You’re turning me into a crazy person,” Jungkook mumbled to the curve of your neck.

“You were already a crazy person. You just pretend you’re not.”

“That’s not true…”

You gently peeled his right hand from your arm and yanked him forward. He inhaled sharply, hard chest hitting your back as you tugged his arm forward, curving it around you.

“What non-crazy person blacks out the inner part of their elbow and tattoos the bone on the outer part as well?” you accused, rubbing his muscular forearm against your nipples, smirking at his moan, his shiver traveling through your back and to the sparks of pleasure radiating from your breasts at the lovely friction.

“Um…”

That was as far as he gave you as an answer because he had no good answers.

“Mhm.”

His hand curved around your left breast and he ran his fingers over it, tugging at your nipple. You leaned into his touch, sighing softly. Well, maybe you had been a bit harsh. He had changed. Less clumsy now, attaining his own irresistible sensuality that he probably wasn’t even aware of, considering the wavering in his tone.

“You’ve probably had better than me, huh…”

“You would be surprised at the complete inadequacy of the human race when it comes to sex, Jungkook. Most people don’t give two shits about listening to their partner’s wants.”

He pinched your nipple and you moaned, rubbing your ass against his crotch.

“You always do everything I want and even things I didn’t even know I wanted,” he mumbled.

His cock was getting the hint with every rock of your hips, rousing at the soft friction. You listened to his rapid breathing, amused, the amusement turning into fond irritation as you felt his free hand slide between your bodies, tucking his hardening length between your ass cheeks, now slowly and non-discreetly humping you.

Well.

Can’t say you were surprised.

“You’re not that hard to read, Jungkook.”

He was leaking all over the top of your ass, ramming the head into your tailbone, now both hands on your chest, forgetting to answer, too absorbed in touching you, tugging at your nipples in time with his rocking hips, lips back to your neck, biting down and sucking hard, leaving marks. There was power in his hold, passion and desperation, a needy whine vibrating in his throat, faster, harder, pinching your nipples and rubbing the tips, pulling slightly, pleasure from his lips and his hands, your own reaching back and clawing at the small of his back, leaving scratches, yes, please, harder, mark me, make me yours, and you chuckled at his declaration, you were always mine, Jungkook, and he moaned your name in affirmation, licking up your neck, hot shaking breath ghosting your ear.

“Wanna fuck you from behind.”

You sunk your nails into his skin and brought your fingers outward, flicking your wrists to leave sharp lines of lust, his moan in your wake.

“Do it,” you drawled, voice saturated with need.

He pushed you down and your caught yourself with your hands, clutching fistfuls of red silk. You heard the rip of another condom and his groan as he encased his aching length, one hand on your ass, and you spread your legs, his knees fitting between them, the head grazing your wet opening and he slid in with a shudder, filling you up and stretching you out, a little pain that dissipated as he squeezed your ass with two hands, sighing with satisfaction with you.

“I know I said I want to kiss you all the time, and I do,” he panted, stalling.

You smiled, turning your head to look over your shoulder. Jungkook looked back at you and he reached forward, driving deeper into you, making you mewl for him. He plucked the pins from your hair, one by one, undoing the perfection, tossing them aside as he spoke, shrouding your shoulders and face with cool-toned black, surreal and glamorous.

“But I think I’ve decided I also want to fuck you all the time.”

You smirked. “You don’t take much convincing, I must say.”

He eased the last pin from your hair and flicked it aside.

You heard it fall to the floor.

That one wouldn’t be found in the morning.

He grinned. “Maybe I already knew you would be amazing.”

Instead of replying, you leaned forward and then smacked your ass back into his crotch.

Jungkook reeled, hand flying back to your hip, grabbing it tightly as you roughly pushed back into him, his natural response being to thrust forward, compounding the pleasure for you and for him, looking forward again and tipping your head back, letting go, moaning for him, his hardness twitching with your sound, loud and getting louder, bodies tangled, bed creaking, clutching your ass for dear life. You lifted one hand and brought beside your hip and Jungkook gripped your forearm, your body naturally dropping lower, deepening each thrust, and that was it, the uncontrollable need resonating in his deep voice, forcefully pounding you into the mattress, thighs, crotch, balls slapping into your lower half, carnal and wild and visceral, his name and your name mixing together, filling the room with the sight, sound, and smell of sex, so strong, fuck, he was so fucking strong, and so were you, a shock every time your bodies connected, until you were wailing with the ferocity of orgasm, squirming and clutching his forearm as he held yours, clenching around his length, but this time he didn’t stop, fucking you through it, gasping for air.

“Oh fuck, yes, fuck, do it again, cum for me again, fuck, feels so fucking good, feels like you’re choking my cock…”

And he brought it out of you again, your right hand punched into the sheets, your left in his hold, moaning for him, Jungkook, fuck, Jungkook, for him then, him now, him forever, ecstasy and elation, hitting a high you thought didn’t even exist, lust and trust and love, raising your torso and slamming your palm onto the headboard, rattling the whole damn bed.

“Fuck!”

Slamming back onto his cock and squeezing hard, Jungkook gasping at the suddenness of the harsh throbs around his length, jolting inside you and spilling another into the condom, your head whipping to the side, spotting a mirror and there he was, head thrown back, long black hair touching his shoulders, open mouth, eyes rolled back, chest shuddering, your name a shaky moan, holding you tight, his right arm travelling, wrapping around you and lifting you up, and then it was you in the mirror, your body against his, skin to skin, his dark brown orbs shifting down, feeling your eyes on him, and then he was watching your reflections, seeing your joined bodies, panting in unison, both sweaty and spent.

You smiled at him, lit up by moonlight and mirrors.

He smiled back.

And then his hand was on your chin and he turned your head to face him, tilting his head and kissing your smile, seeing it not its reflection but the real thing, no longer only when you thought he wasn’t looking.

time left: 00:00

“Oi.”

Jungkook didn’t recognize that voice at all. He concluded must still be dreaming.

A finger podded his temple.

“Oi!”

He started, but the arms encircling him pinned him in place, not letting him and his naked body leave the bed. Softness pressed against his back, bare nipples rubbing against his skin. He froze.

His dick was rock-hard.

A black-haired man in a black suit with a disturbingly handsome face was glaring at him.

“You animals made a fucking mess.”

“Go away, Seokjin.”

Jungkook squeaked, unable to talk because one of the hands holding him was dancing downwards under the covers, wrapping around his impossibly stiff length. He prayed it wouldn’t start moving up and down, but it did. Slowly. Not enough, but still too much, because he didn’t really want to get jacked off first thing in the morning while someone was very clearly assessing whether or not to cause extreme bodily harm to him.

Well, he did want to get jacked off first thing in the morning.

It was the bodily harm he was less enthused about.

The man named Seokjin squinted at him and it took every fiber of Jungkook’s being to not make a goddamn peep as her fingers ghosted the head, smearing slick pre-cum over the slit.

“I want to take a shower.”

“Then go take a shower. I left towels for you,” she mumbled behind Jungkook’s back.

“Namjoon’s in the shower right now.”

“Then order us some breakfast.”

“I sent Taehyung to do that. Also, it’s noon.”

“Couldn’t you order room service?”

Seokjin shrugged and Jungkook realized his shoulders were huge. “He said he had a friend who worked in the kitchen and was going to reserve us a table.”

She raised her head, resting her chin on Jungkook’s right shoulder and pulsing his cock with her right hand under the sheets. “Taehyung has a lot of friends, doesn’t he?”

Seokjin looked at Jungkook pointedly.

“Er… yeah. T-Tons…”

Those brown eyes narrowed, scrutinizing Jungkook suspiciously. “He seems like a dork.”

“I like dorks. That’s why I keep you around.”

Seokjin stuck his tongue out childishly and yelled at the top of his lungs. “Namjoon!”

“I’m done!”

“Finally,” Seokjin grumbled, walking off and yanking the bathroom door open, barging in unceremoniously.

“Gah!”

“Gah!!!”

“Oh, fuck, please, d-don’t…”

“It’ll only take me a second.”

You dove under the covers and Jungkook clapped his hands over his mouth, your grip on his twitching length moving fast and tight, rubbing your tongue on the hot head, and you were right, it only took a few seconds, and then Jungkook was hissing through his fingers, now, fuck, now, and your mouth swallowed his cock, not a moment too soon as thick spurts of his orgasm shot into your throat, coating the back of your tongue, savoring his smell and his thighs under your breasts, rubbing your nipples on the muscle.

“N-No, stop, stop,” Jungkook whimpered desperately, grabbing you by the shoulders and yanking you up, your head popping out, smirk on your lips.

You opened your mouth and showed him your tongue covered in his cum.

“Shit, you’re going to be the death of me…”

He hurriedly nudged your chin and you closed it, grinning.

Dangerous.

Ill-advised.

Jungkook grinned back at you helplessly, holding your smiling face in his hands.

---

some time later

“I have two towels.”

“She didn’t throw her drink at me.”

“Damn. I even seduced the bartender a little bit to get those plush cotton ones.”

“She asked if she could keep the ring so she could sell it and give the money to her secret, less good-looking boyfriend so he could buy her a new ring.”

“Oh. Wait, what?”

He shrugged, rubbing the back of his head. “I said sure, because it wasn’t like the love of my life couldn’t afford her own diamonds.”

“Ah, true, true.”

“I might be slandered for a little while on the internet.”

“Nah, you won’t. Maybe for like, six hours. Then everyone’s attention span will be somewhere else. Also, your taste upgraded in their eyes, from social media influencer to burlesque dancer.”

You grinned, raising your hands to create a finger frame of your index fingers and thumbs, enclosing the handsome face of Jeon Jungkook, long black hair, silver brow piercing, dark sculpted eyebrows, big brown eyes, defined jawline, shapely pink lips, mole of his nose and cheek, and finally that perfect mole underneath his lower lip, appearing as he smiled at you, confused at what you were doing.

“Even though we all know you’re just a hopeless sucker for the class delinquent. Tsk tsk.”

His grin grew mischievous, walking over to you as you lowered your hands.

“Well, I was a shit class representative anyway.”

He leaned down to kiss you, smile to smile.

Twelve hours.

Sunset to night.

fin.

masterpost

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

776 notes · View notes

thrillridesz · 4 years ago

Text

heart racing ▫ j.yn

in part of the adrenaline rush! collab hosted by @lucas-wongs + @ickjun

⇢ pairing: jaehyun x reader (f) (ft. other nct members + twice’s jeongyeon)

⇢ genre: fluff, angst, racer!au, best friends to lovers

⇢ warnings: swearing, mentions of cheating, mentions and consumption of alcohol, alcoholism, hitting rock bottom

⇢ synopsis: once a revered member of the racing industry, jaehyun has been living at rock bottom for the past few months following a tragic accident that effectively put him out of racing. it seems as though nothing would get through to him, not even you. will he ever break out of the constant loop of doubt and start seeing things for what they really are?

⇢ word count: 8.04k

⇢ a/n : unedited! also posted on this account because I’m considering merging my nct account with my tbz writing blog also PLEASE check out the other writers’ works ^^ we’ve all worked hard on our fics

“Jaehyun, you’re ruining yourself.”

The dim room reeked of stale alcohol and something mouldy as the empty beer bottles that littered the floor clanged noisily against the surrounding furniture, leaking golden yellow liquid all over. Old, worn clothes were draped everywhere, stained and darkened with murky stains while the battered television flickered weakly to live, showing nothing but static. The walls were streaked and striated with scratches, as if someone had just been clawing desperately at them and on the floor amidst the empty glass bottles, were pieces of scrap poster paper. Sunlight peeks in through the drawn blinds, giving a teasing glimpse to the bustling outside world from the sad, decrepit apartment Jaehyun lived in.

Sprawled on the couch with nothing on except a wrinkled pair of jeans, Jaehyun’s eyes were devoid of emotion - blank and dazelike. In his hand, his fingers held on limply to the neck of yet another bottle of beer, possibly his nth for the day. His usually shiny hazel brown hair was greasy with filth and his bare chest was sticky with sweat from being cooped up all day in this tiny, stuffy apartment of his. His jawline was starting to grow a hint of stubble given how much he’d completely let himself go and dark circles were appearing underneath those intense eyes of his.

Slowly, Jaehyun lifted his gaze from the floor to look at you, the first flicker of emotions that he’d ever displayed in the whole day. You stood before him, arms akimbo, your gaze sharp and piercing. He smiled, a smile that held no mirth or happiness.

“Oh, you’re still here.”

You shook your head, ripping the bottle of beer from his grasp. As you approached, the bottles, clothes and torn pieces of paper on the ground almost made you trip and you tutted under your breath.

“Of course I am. I’m your best friend who is somehow still here with you. Best friends help each other.”

He chuckled nonchalantly, waving his hand at the door. “Well, feel free to leave then. I don’t need your help.” His eyes held a hint of anger as he did, something that did not escape your notice.

“Jaehyun,” you said softly, placing the bottle on a nearby table as you dread what was to come next. “Please, not this again.”

Your words only served to fuel the fiery spark of anger in his eyes as he said in a barely controlled tone, the irritation radiating from him in ripples that threatened to evolve into waves, “Why not? I’m a fucking wreck and a loser anyways. Leave like everyone else did. Leave like…” His voice wobbled, “leave like Jeongyeon did.”

Your heart fell and it took almost a godlike willpower not to let your emotions show. Was he still thinking about her?

“Jaehyun-”

“What? Are you gonna say I’m not a loser like you always do? Cut the fucking lies. Everyone out there is saying the same thing, what makes you think you can convince me that you’re not thinking it either? Hm?” He spat, the drowsiness in his demeanour dissipating fast as red hot anger replaced it. There was so much internal frustration within Jaehyun that just seeing him like this was enough to break your heart. It was one thing to see him in this terrible state but it was quite another to see him directing his anger towards you.

You drew in a deep breath, trying to calm your pounding heart and to stop the tears that pricked at the corner of your eyes. Having been there with him every step of the year ever since the both of you were children playing and horsing around the neighbourhood, you found yourself desperately missing those much simpler times and wondering how things became so wrong.

For as long as you could remember, Jaehyun had always been interested and had a natural flair for racing. There always existed a competitive streak in him that thrived off a challenge. It didn’t matter what it was, as long as it was a game that could have a clear winner or incited competitiveness, he was all up for it. As kids, the two of you used to compete over everything, be it for the last popsicle in the convenience store down the street or past the gates of your school. It was as if racing was something he needed in order to live. It wasn’t until sophomore year of high school did Jaehyun decide to take his love for racing to a professional level. He began to dive deep into the motorsport industry, starting out as a mere rookie in auto racing. He never did apply to college, preferring instead to invest all his time into his newfound life career.

His rise to fame was quick, quicker than most. Within his first year, he had won a number of races, beating even some of the well known names in the sport. Every other month, he was winning trophies and exorbitant cash prizes which in return earned him the recognition of famous sponsors and racers. Bumper stickers from the various sponsors decorated the back of his ride and it was no time at all before Jaehyun began to don some of the most expensive sports gear on the tracks. With his smouldering good looks, he also appeared on the front pages of magazines and newspapers, all while attracting a loyal fanbase made up of both racing enthusiasts and adoring admirers.

To everyone else, he was the suave, handsome and effortlessly cool young racer who was practically born to race and to do it well but to you, he was your childhood friend… and your first love. In front of the flashing lights and cameras, Jaehyun knew his way around the crowd. He knew exactly when to flash one of his dazzling, dimpled smiles and how to work the crowd - it was just one of his innate charms. Yet, you knew that underneath that, that flashy, extravagant Jaehyun, was the Jaehyun you grew up with and had gradually fallen in love with.

As children, he was there for you whenever you needed him, always ready to lend a helping hand when he noticed that you were stuck in an unfavourable situation. You distinctly remember what had happened in second grade. It was a bright and warm summer’s day, the lovely scent of sweet peas floating in the air as the sun bore down on the earth. Pigeons flitted over the sidewalks, pecking at the cemented floor and the leaves of the oak trees that lined the streets rustled gently in the wind.

You fell with a loud and heavy thud on your bottom, feeling the leaves crunch noisily under your weight. Fear and trepidation coursed through your veins as you stared with eyes wide at your tormentors.

“Look at her, she looks pathetic. Do it, Johnny! Do it!”

A tall, hunkering boy flanked by his cronies stood over you, his dark, massive shadow engulfing you as you frantically scrambled backwards. Tears were beginning to stream down your face and a sharp pain shot up your spine with each move, owing to the impact of the fall. There were scratches on your hands as you dragged your palms over the rough gravel in an attempt to move away.

There was a malicious glint in Johnny’s eyes and his lips were curved into a devious smirk as he stared down at you, domineering and intimidating. The veins in his arms and hands were bulging angrily and as he clenched his fists, you felt your stomach sink. Your legs began to feel like jelly and your vision was beginning to blur from all the salty tears. You were struck with fear and the sense of helplessness you felt made you feel both ashamed and furious at yourself yet there was nothing you could do.

You held your hand up to shield yourself from the impending attack as the bully lifted up his fist.

“Hey! How about you pick on someone your own size?!”

The group of you turned to see Jaehyun, eyes blazing with anger as his chest heaved. His wind-swept hair hung over his eyes, a surefire sign that he’d run over and his cheeks were red from exertion. Even from afar, he was clearly no match to Johnny’s larger build, much less the whole lot of them.

“J-Jaehyun?” You spluttered, shocked.

“Who is this clown- Ow!” Johnny stumbled backwards as a rock pebble hit him on the head, promptly ricocheting off his forehead and bouncing onto the ground. His jaw was clenched in pain and when he removed his palm, a reddish bruise had blossomed and there was even a faint trace of blood. There was a split second of stunned silence before Johnny turned almost magenta with rage.

“GET HIM!” He roared and his cronies shook out of their daze, immediately going after Jaehyun who’d already ran a good distance before the reality of what had just happened set in. His mocking laugh rang through the afternoon amidst a cackle of profanities and threats yelled at him.

It was a laugh that remained in your memories all these years. It was a laugh that strengthened you, a laugh that spoke so much of willful courage and youthful rebellion which was everything you’d eventually come to associate with Jaehyun. That laugh was bright and so… him.

Yet now, you could see none of that playful mischief and vibrancy in those eyes. All that is left is emptiness.

“You’re not a loser, Jaehyun,” you began softly, “you never were in my eyes. You were a fighter.”

Those beautiful eyes you adored so much narrowed at you, his face twisted into a scowl.

“A fighter? Guess what, y/n?” He sneered, his voice dripping with venom. “I fought. I fought endlessly but did that work out for me? I threw in everything I could, every little thing. I worked hard and put in a hundred and one percent of my effort.”

You stared at him, your heart aching for him as a single tear began to roll down his cheek, tears of anger, indignation and pain.

“But did that work out? No, it didn’t. If anything, it left me a wreck. People out there call me a loser, a has-been and even my girlfriend has left me. It doesn’t matter how much effort I put in, how much I fought because at the end of the day, everyone is only here because of what they think I am. They saw me as a champion, an up and coming and the moment I wasn’t anymore, they all dropped me in a heartbeat. What are you waiting for, y/n? Why the hell are you even still here?”

His words echoed through the empty apartment and out loud, it sounded bleak, harsh and biting. His anguished voice tore at your heart and as each word left those lips, it felt like your heart was slowly breaking apart. Neither of you said anything for a moment, locked in a silent, unspoken fight as he held your gaze steadily. His eyes were cold and there was the look of a broken man in them.

“I am here because I love you, Jaehyun,” you said finally, your voice quivering. “I don’t care who or what you are and it pains me to see you tear yourself down like this because I know you are not the loser you believe you are. I don’t know how much of this I can take, seeing you ruin yourself.”

You can see the slight softening in his eyes and you gritted your teeth.

“I’m going to go. I don’t know when I’ll be back. I can’t see you ruin yourself and be able to do nothing about it. I’m not strong enough for that.”

With that, you left the apartment before he could see the tears in your eyes.

The miserable, empty can of beer clattered loudly against the hardwood floor, the sound echoing through the dank apartment.

Jaehyun barely lifted an eyebrow, his fingers growing slack without him even knowing. He stared up at the dark ceiling, a hooded look in those once bright eyes. The stench that hung around him was growing more intense by the day and it was reaching a point whereby he could almost smell himself but there was nothing in him that seemed to care.

Sounds of active civilisation outside drifted in through the windows and occasionally, he’d hear the honking of angry drivers on the roads or the laughter of children playing at the playground at the courtyard below. Normally, he loved waking up to these sounds or at least when he wasn’t off to the race tracks, when he was relaxing with a book in his hands. Now however, he found them irksome, irritating and he wanted nothing more but to block them out. He wanted absolutely zero reminder of the world outside.

Grunting, Jaehyun dragged himself off the couch. As he trudged heavily back to his room where his comfortable bed beckoned to him, he turned to stare at the large, imposing front door where moments ago, you’d slammed shut as you left him to his own devices.

Guilt tugged at his heart and for a split second, Jaehyun contemplated running after you. When you left, there was an indescribable sense of hollowness that engulfed him in a way that he couldn’t quite understand or explain. The apartment was filthy, dark and small but somehow with you around just a few minutes ago, it felt just a little bigger, a little warmer. As much as he hated to admit it, his heart was calling to him to reach out to you, run after you. The crumpled look on your face haunted him but he shook the thought from his mind.

It would be better if you left him. If you knew what was good for you, you would.

The anger in him was beginning to resurface at the thought of everything that had happened over the past few months. His career plummeting on a downward spiral right after his recovery, the exact opposite of what was predicted by his agent.

He was born to race, his family and his friends had always told him so. He knew it himself, he could feel it in his blood, his bones, his spirit. Ever since he was little, Jaehyun had known that his career would have something to do one way or another with racing. As a child, he loved running, competing but most of all, he loved riding in his father’s pickup truck on the way to school. He loved the way the vehicle would zoom past the streets, overtaking other vehicles and he loved the feeling of the wind against his face. He loved the speed and everything about cars or racing. It felt natural for him to pursue a career in competitive racing and a natural he was.

After getting signed with a racing company, Jaehyun quickly rose to fame with his numerous championships, bagging trophies, medals and cash prizes in almost every event he participated in. Sports magazines and reporters would clamour over each other to score an interview with him. People wanted pictures with him, wanted him to sign an autograph for them.

He was the golden boy in the racing world, an untouchable.

In the racing world, everything goes a mile a minute and nothing waits for anyone. After the morbid crash at the June Tokyo Prix, Jaehyun had sustained several fractures to his ribs and a severe concussion that left him in the hospital’s intensive care unit bedridden for several months. The pain was unlike any other and every single move hurt immensely but what suffered more damage than he did was his career and his relationships.

Within months, the racing career he had so painstakingly built up for himself collapsed before him. Due to long inactivity, brands and sponsors began to drop him, slowly at first then steadily one by one. He was also constantly under the media’s scrutiny for a period of time, their cameras and microphones thrusted in his face while he lay helpless on the hospital bed. The bright flashes blinded him and the loud noises made his head pound and even now, he still remembered how that experience was like, shuddering every time it crossed his mind. It had taken Jaehyun countless hours of physical therapy before he could even think of racing competitively again.

Yet when he did, he quickly realised he never could revert back to his old self, the one who got off on adrenaline kicks while zooming along the tracks at breakneck speed, the one who only knew what it was like to win. He was slower, less coordinated. His body could no longer take the pressure racing would subject it too, or at least not quickly enough for him to make a full, stunning comeback.

The tabloids and news had run wild with his fall from grace, writing up horrible, demeaning articles about him. His rivals had mocked him to his face and he could even sense the visible disappointment from his fans emanating from the stands whenever he’d lost yet another race. The thing that really broke the camel’s back however, was when his girlfriend Jeongyeon initiated a breakup.

Jaehyun had hoped that things would turn for the better, never one to give up. He’d trained tirelessly everyday, pushing his brittle body to the limit. He never let up on himself, gritting his teeth through all the physical and mental pressure he had imposed on himself. When the final text was sent, Jaehyun could remember distinctly how hopeless and distraught he’d felt. It felt like his world, the empire he had so painfully and relentlessly crafted for himself from scratch was breaking bit by bit. To add salt to the wound, the next time he’d seen her on television, her body was plastered against his biggest rival, Yuta. Her arms were wrapped around his and her lips pressing against his cheeks with no shame whatsoever for the interviewer interviewing him, no sign of the girl who’d once told him that she loved him with all her heart.

What was once determination and naive hopefulness soon devolved into anger and resentment. Jaehyun began to let himself go and the change was drastic. Where there once existed a time whereby he’d rise from his slumber early to visit the gym, he now regularly slept well into the late afternoon. His diet began to consist largely of takeout, junk food and alcohol and his apartment got more and more cluttered by the day. He’d stopped contacting his friends and family, ignoring their calls and texts, preferring to fester in his own solitude. It wasn’t long before an odour had started to emit from his place, a nauseating mixture of stale pizza, beer and pure filth from the lack of showers.

His appearance was also no longer polished, but rather haggard as if he’d aged five years in a matter of months. He was beginning to lose his fit stature, the healthy glow he’d once been prized on by magazines and gossip columns dimming. It got to a point whereby Jaehyun had begun to avoid looking at his hideous reflection in the mirror, his self-hatred growing with each day.

A poster of him in his racing gear and his race car was tattered and wrinkled on the floor, stained with ketchup and soda. Staring at it blankly with eyes empty of any emotions whatsoever, Jaehyun swiped it up and in a swift moment, he tore it up with a large rip before trashing it somewhere on the floor.

Flopping onto his comforter, he almost moaned in pleasure as he sunk into the soft sheets. Reaching for the air conditioning control, a loud smack on the ground roused him from his hedonistic haze. His hair was sticking up in all directions as he peered over the edge of his bed to see a picture frame that had fallen from his night stand.

Holding it in his hands, he looked at it with a nonchalant air.

It was a picture of the both of you a few years ago, back when he was just kick starting his racing career. He hadn’t yet made a name for himself then as the two of you leaned in for the picture.

You had on a bright, illuminating beam on your face, your eyes alive and glittering with happiness. Your hair was down, wisps of it framing your face as the sun brought out the colour and shine of it. Next to him, you’d completely dwarfed in comparison. He had his arm around you, bringing you to his side and from the picture, Jaehyun could feel a smile begin to crack on his face at the comical height difference.

He’d looked completely at ease here, carefree with the recklessness and restlessness of the soul beneath shining through his dark eyes. His hair was wavy, styled down in that ridiculous fashion he wanted so badly to leave back in high school. He had worn a dimpled smile on his face, the look of someone who knew he was destined for greatness and believed in it.

Jaehyun was about to put the picture down when something caught his eye. He leaned in closer.

There was something about you. At first glance, it would have been clear that you were smiling for the camera but upon closer look, it looked as if you might be smiling at him instead. Your smile was softer, eyes gentler from the first time he’d seen the picture. It was the sort of smile that struck him in his heart, the kind of smile that would make its recipient feel loved, appreciated.

“I want to be a racer when I grow up.”

You turned to Jaehyun, eyes wide as saucers as you popped the ice popsicle out of your mouth.

“Why?”

He shrugged, still struggling with the wrapper of the popsicle. The two of you sat on the wooden bench, side by side as the other kids ran around the park, playing rounds of tag while their parents or babysitters sat watching over them. The sun was glaring down on the earth and though it was a great day to go out to play and sweat it out, it was also a perfect day to find an excuse to buy popsicles with what little pocket money your parents had given to you two. It wasn’t an opportunity to be missed.

“I really like racing. I don’t know if there’s anything else I’d want to be,” he said simply, grinning as he finally succeeded in breaking open the plastic.

You tried to hide the blush that was beginning to creep up to your cheeks, looking away from him.

“My mom says being a doctor is good.”

As soon as you said it, you immediately regretted your words. Jaehyun scrunched up his nose in disgust.

“No way! It’s so boring. Do you want to be a doctor?”

Quickly, you shook your head fervently. “No!”

“Then what do you want to be?” He asks curiously, sucking on his popsicle.

You are quiet for a while as you ponder over his question. What exactly do you want to be when you grow up?

“...A writer.” You said finally and he swiveled around to look at you, clearly not expecting your answer.

“A writer? Hm, why?”

“I just really like reading. I want to write interesting stories that people will like,” you take a tentative lick of your popsicle, the icy, sweet taste of apple flavouring coating your tongue, “Like fairytales!”

Jaehyun broods over your answer, seemingly deep in thought. For a moment, neither of you say another word as you sit together under the warm, sunny day, enjoying your popsicles.

“I want people to like me too.” He says suddenly, his eyes shining. “People will like my racing! I’m going to be a racer and people will like me to win!”

He hops to his feet, his popsicle raised as he made his declaration. There is a triumphant, toothy smile on his face and he says it with so much hope and gusto that you can’t help but feel drawn to his driven spirit. For a boy of five foot, there was a lot of motivation and energy in him and there was just something about him that got you transfixed.

Under the sunlight, his smile seemed almost blindingly bright with the shadows highlighting the charming dimples on those round cheeks. The butterflies in your stomach were going crazy and your heart began to pound. Your words seemed stuck in your throat and you choked out, “I t-think you’ll make a good racer, J-Jaehyun.”

You thought your heart might burst as his smile grew wider, his dimples making deeper indentations. It felt like the sun might just be a little too hot since your face felt like it was positively flaming.

“Thank you, y/n.”

Suddenly, something caught your eye and shakily, you pointed at him.

His smile dropped as his eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

“What?”

“Y-your popsicle is m-m-melting… down your a-arm.”

The elevator button made an uncharacteristic squeaking sound as Jaehyun jabbed repeatedly at it, his jaw clenched in impatience.

“Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up,” he muttered frantically under his breath, pacing the lift lobby. The red letters above the elevator were moving at a snail’s pace and it seemed as if it’s stopped to pick up some passengers on the 5th floor. How long does it take for people to move into an elevator?

Jaehyun groaned in annoyance as he watched the number on the display crawl up slowly.

This wouldn’t do. By the time it’s here, it would be too late.

Immediately, he sprinted for the stairs instead, his heart hammering against his chest.

There was great fanfare as the rowdy crowd erupted into raucous cheers, the large, industrial sized party poppers going off with a bang, covering everyone in glitter streamers and confetti. Cameras were flashing and clicking away at every corner while throngs of sports reporters flooded the holding area, all trying to reach the champions for their coveted exclusive interviews. Agents and pit crews were all celebrating with the sound of champagne bottles popping and yells and cheers of congratulations ringing through the air.

Jaehyun stood at the top of the podium, shooting the cameras his trademark stunning grin as he posed with his golden trophy that looked to be about the size of his torso. The racing suit he was wearing was uncomfortably hot and he wanted nothing more than to strip from it but the adrenaline and euphoria he was experiencing far surpassed any feelings of discomfort.

This was it, the taste of success. It was everything he lived for, raced for. This was why he always trained so hard, from dawn to dusk. This was why he put his own body through all those hours of endurance training, gym and dieting. It was all for this single moment of true bliss enjoyed and savoured after the extreme thrill of racing. Here on the podium, towering above everyone else… He was truly where he needed to be, where he was born to be.

As he stepped off and the bodyguards swarmed in to escort him to his own holding room, Jaehyun couldn’t wipe the grin off his face. Yet another trophy for display on his shelf back in his apartment. He didn’t think he’d ever get sick of it, the feeling of winning but then again who would?

Reporters were attempting to accost him at all sides, all screaming out the same old questions he had grown tired of early on.

“How do you feel after winning the prix for the third year running?”

“You hit a record timing today! How did you train for the race?”

“What do you have to say to your rival, Nakamoto who came in second this year? By a mere few seconds at that!”

Jaehyun nodded and waved at a few of them, still wearing a smile on his face but there was no answer evoked from him. He’d kept up a calm and cool demeanour throughout but once he was in his holding room alone, the moment the door closed shut behind him, he let out a loud, jubilant howl.

“Fuck yes!” He roared out in happiness before collapsing onto the couch, laughing to himself as he held his trophy above him. He badly needed a shower but he couldn’t care less, not with the trophy in his hands. Under the light, the gold shone and even as a seasoned racer, the excitement and happiness from winning never grew old. In the empty room, the victory felt even more profound, the reality of claiming the championships for yet another year sinking in.

He was in the middle of celebrating and basking in his own victory, he received a text.

Jy: how’s my man doing? congratulations on the win honey ❤️

Jae: thanks babe, it feels fucking amazing. you have no idea… also i missed you so much

Jy: we should celebrate. together, alone. tonight at my place? ;) we haven’t done it in awhile, i miss your body, your kisses

Jaehyun stared at the text. He should be happy, excited to see Jeongyeon again after so long. He had been so preoccupied with training for the big race that he’d barely had any time for her. He had missed her yet now that they were finally exchanging texts again after so long apart, he didn’t seem to feel the same anticipation.

There was something about that text she sent that seemed weirdly… detached. He had imagined their first interaction in over a month to be one that warmed him up in the inside, brought him to a whole new level of euphoria even after winning but if anything, this reality paled in comparison to the scenario he had looked forward to in his mind.

Jae: yeah sure

After pressing send, he tossed his phone onto the coffee table and rested his head against the velvety cushion of the couch. Somehow, that very short exchange with Jeongyeon had dimmed his excitement and readiness to celebrate.

His phone suddenly rang, disrupting him from the reverie he’d found himself in.

“Must be Jeongyeon,” he thought to himself and for some reasons as he swiped to answer the call, he found himself reluctant to talk.

“Hello?”

“Jung Jaehyun! I was watching your race on television, congratulations for coming in first yet again! You were terrific out there.”

Y/n.

Jaehyun smiled, feeling his heart swell at your words.

“Thanks, y/n. I really appreciate it.”

“How about we meet for dinner tonight? I know of this amazing Italian place that serves the best lasagna, your favourite! My treat too to celebrate your win, how’s that?”

At the mention of lasagna, Jaehyun could feel his stomach rumbling and his mouth watering. The tangy tomato sauce, copious amounts of cheese and spiced minced beef with soft pasta… He would absolutely be down for some well-deserved lasagna after weeks of feasting on plain, watery salads. Dinner sounded like a great idea.

“Sure, I- Wait, I can’t,” he groaned, suddenly remembering his plans with Jeongyeon. Plans he didn’t even particularly look forward to.

“Why not?” You asked.

“I um…”

Fuck, why is it so hard to say it?

“I have plans with Jeongyeon tonight,” he said, ignoring the strange pang of guilt and indignation that hit him square in the chest.

“Oh! Oh, uh… That’s completely fine. Don’t worry about it, we can always have dinner some other day.”

“Really? That would be great! How does next week sound?”

“Sounds good to me!” Even on call, he could imagine you bobbing your head enthusiastically like you usually did and that brought a chuckle out of him.

“Alright, I’ll see you then y/n.”

“See you! Please rest well, you deserve it.”

“Thank you,” he replied before hanging up.

What is this warm feeling in him?

Jaehyun raced out of the apartment complex, his eyes searching his surroundings.

The sun was glaring and he couldn’t see straight without squinting his eyes. He must have been a weird sight to behold - scruffy, pale from the lack of the outdoors and reeking of the garbage piled up in his apartment. An elderly woman walking past him tutted disapprovingly at his disheveled appearance, holding her nose as she did but Jaehyun didn’t seem to notice her. His mind was on something else, something more important.

A boy from across the street was staring at him with his mouth agape, looking like a deer caught in headlights as he shakily fumbled in his pockets for his phone. Jaehyun let his sights linger on him, wondering if he should have at least thrown on a coat but as he turned, he caught sight of a figure hanging by the bus stop, looking miserable.

He swallowed thickly, feeling the slight clench of his heart and without hesitating a single second longer, he made his way over.

The heart monitor’s methodical beating was driving him near insanity. If not that, then certainly the suffocating atmosphere of the hospital and the bandages wrapped tightly around almost every single inch of his body would. Not to mention the occasional undercover paparazzi who would try to inch their way into his ward.

Jaehyun stared up at the white ceilings, still as a plank. Every part of his body hurt to move, he couldn’t even turn his head without feeling a painful pounding in it. Sometimes, he would get dizzy spells so intense he actually felt nauseous. His appetite for food or anything in general had since plummeted. Everything, but racing.

He yearned to go out there onto the tracks, to resume his training. The Roman Prix is coming up in a month’s time and he was so far from ready. He needed to get out of this place as soon as possible, even if it meant jeopardising his own safety. His career mattered more than anything.

Jeongyeon hadn’t called either since the day he got admitted. Jaehyun had soon grown tired of checking his messages or asking his publicist for news from her, the feeling of disappointment felt deep within him. He closed his eyes, suddenly feeling a wave of fatigue wash over him.

There was a gentle knock on the door and as the door creaked slightly open, you poked your head in. Upon seeing him, you smiled softly and made your way over to him. Jaehyun watched you approach, his eyes following you.

You had brought along a basket with you, seemingly full of items. As much as he wanted to know what you’d brought, he tried not to look overeager. “I made you something special today,” you said, settling down and practically vibrating with excitement.

“What?”

“Tomato minestrone soup!” You exclaimed, uncovering the lid as the tantalising aroma of tomatoes and a medley of vegetables drifted in the air. Jaehyun almost had to restrain himself from moving, lest he shift a bone out of place somewhere.

Somehow seeing you had sparked a certain kind of joy in him. Maybe it was a sign nobody had really forgotten about him yet. He had watched his number of visitors trickle down day by day and now that it was close to a month since he’d been hospitalised, after the tragic accident, he barely got any. Perhaps three or four a week if he was lucky.

You, however, you were different. You visited him almost every other day, no matter how busy you were. You visited his bedside even if you were worn out from a long day of work, even when you had things to attend to, even when no one else bothered to. You would bring along snacks whenever you did or homemade get-well food like fish porridge or chicken noodle soup you’d whipped up yourself, though they might be far from the usual gourmet fare he was used to back when he was still active when he would go for exquisite dinner parties. Usually, you stayed for a substantial amount of time and sometimes, you even stayed the night.

Jaehyun didn’t understand why you would do all of this for a friend, a friend who never seemed to have time to spare for you at that. More than anything, the feeling of guilt in him only grew stronger with each visit yet he was grateful, extremely grateful. Your presence was like a warm ray of sunshine in this dreary hospital ward. Whenever you visited, he couldn’t help but smile even though he could not find it in himself to smile. But when it came to you, it felt natural.

“Y/n!”

At the sound of Jaehyun’s voice, you turned and even from afar, he could see your reddened eyes - a surefire sign you’d been crying. Guilt and anger washed over him in waves and he tried not to think how many times he had been the cause of your tears. If only he could turn back time, he would have shook himself for ever dismissing you so lightly like he did, before he saw the situation for what it was.

He was blinded. Blinded by his obsession for winning, fame, glory and pleasing the wrong people. In a way, it felt like a fog had been lifted before him and now that he could see, think, feel clearly… He wasn’t going to let the right person out of his grasp. The person who loved him unconditionally, not just for his fame and achievements. The person who stuck with him through thick and thin but he was just too daft to notice it. The person who always felt like home whether he knew it or not.

You.

“Jaehyun? W-What are you…” You spluttered, desperately trying to wipe your tears from your face as you stared up at him.

It took a couple of seconds for him to regain his breath, his face turning red from embarrassment and exertion. He should really start leaving those beers and junk food alone.

“I…” He panted, both out of fatigue and relief, “We need to talk.”

“Jung is getting closer, any minute now Hendery!”

“I don’t believe this! Are we looking at a potential comeback for this prix? Push, push, push!”

“It seems like we might be! Here he comes! He is absolutely mad!”

The nascars zipped along the race tracks, smoke and some bits of burnt rubber and chipped metal trailing along its wake. They were a blur of colours to the spectators, who were practically glued to their seats as they watched the race reach its climax. A massive telescreen was displaying close ups and the ranking board with huge overhead lights that illuminated the stadium. The crowd was growing wilder by the second as the racecars zoomed past them, their attention fixed on one racer in particular.

The sleek nascar was streaked in royal blue and crimson red over a metallic black base, looking almost purple and black with how fast it was flying across the tracks. The wheels were spinning so fast that the friction between the tough rubber tire and the rough granite almost lit up the tracks. It was charging forward with a steely determination and ruthlessness, closing in rapidly on a green and white nascar ahead of it.

The adrenaline coursing Jaehyun’s veins was unlike any other. The thrill he got from racing could practically send him into an all time high and a cunning grin tugged at his lips as he stepped his foot down hard on the pedal, his hands gripping tightly onto his steering wheel. Rounding around a bend, he clenched his jaw as he pushed his body weight to the left, the muscles in his abdominals and biceps flexing and straining against his racing suit as the car drifted across the tracks in a perfect arc.

“Did you see that perfectly executed drift?! Insanity!”

“Jung is absolutely on fire!”

The thunderous cheers of the crowd and the loud hum of the race cars racing across the tracks faded into the background as he kept his eyes trained steadily forward. Any time now…

“Watch out, Nakamoto,” he whispered under his breath.

Steering his wheel sharply and accelerating much to the crowd’s excitement and trepidation, his race car was now driving side by side along Yuta’s. For a split second, the two turned to look at each other through the window and even though there was no way of seeing the other’s face through that helmet, something in Jaehyun told him that his rival was angered, shocked and… Fearful.

Jaehyun grinned beneath his helmet and without a second thought, he zipped forward, leaving Yuta behind in the smoke.

“He’s going for it, he’s going for it… Wait for it… And he crosses the line! The legend has reclaimed his spot on the top!”

“And that is how you execute one of the greatest comebacks of all time, ladies and gentlemen. Jung has done what we believed to be impossible and dominated the race! I wonder how Nakamoto feels about that?”

The other commentator chuckles into his microphone.

“Well Haechan, if I were him, I’d be pissed off for sure! But I’d also be worried… So very worried.”

The crowd was absolutely wild when he’d disembarked from the car and as he removed his helmet, he was greeted with camera flashes all around him. He shook his head, running a gloved hand over his hair and he took a deep breath. The air smelled of burnt rubber, smoke and… Success.

He had done it. He had made his comeback.

His pit crew made a beeline for him, slapping him on the back, their faces jubilant and lit with pure joy. His new manager, one that he trusted and helped him inch his way back to the top step by step, shot him a thumbs up which he nodded in acknowledgement as the crowd of sports journalists, reporters and photographers began to swarm in on him.

Yet, he paid them no attention. If this was three years ago, he would have basked in the glory, the attention but now he had greater concerns on his mind. His heart was pounding now for a different reason altogether and he could feel his hands growing clammy.

Jaehyun craned his neck and searched the rowdy media crowd. Where were you?

“Jaehyun!”

At your voice, he turned and immediately almost stumbled backwards as you crashed into him for a hug. The feelings of you against him sparked a joy in his heart, a joy almost greater than winning. He enveloped you in a hug, holding your waist as he nuzzled his face into your hair. Your scent of honey and jasmine was intoxicating, alluring and a welcomed change from the smell of smoke and rubble.

The two of you had been dating for about two years now, each day together better than the previous. After he’d caught up with you that day, it was as if you were seeing a different Jaehyun from the one you’d seen in his apartment. That Jaehyun who had caught up with you at the bus stop was the old Jaehyun you’d missed and it was as if a switch somewhere had been flipped. To this day, he had never admitted what changed while you were gone for those few minutes. He had subsequently apologised for everything he’d done, even things you didn’t see a problem with. It was shocking to say the least to see the unapologetic Jaehyun apologise for anything at all, but not more shocking than what entailed a few days later.

It started with a vase of luscious red roses being sent to your workplace followed by an invitation for dinner. Before you knew it, the boy you’d loved almost all your life was courting you with a passion. It felt like a complete dream, so much so you had been afraid to wake up suddenly and realise it was all just your imagination. He’d been more of a romantic than he’d let on and many times, you had found yourself completely smitten by his stunts that stretched from learning how to make homemade chocolates for you on Valentine’s Day knowing that you liked them, even though he was well known as a terrible cook to sending flowers up to your doorstep every other week.

Within a couple of months, the two of you were dating and deeply, wildly in love.

Amidst date nights filled with laughter and kisses, he had also been steadily climbing his way back up the ranks of the racing world. After ditching his unhealthy lifestyle he had been living for the past year, the change was apparent. He’d started hitting the gym, eating healthier and before long, he was in prime condition to start racing again. Training was long and tough but he never did give up. He was more determined and driven than you’d seen him and though the old Jaehyun would have been gutted at a loss, this new, better version of him never fussed over a loss of any kind, instead learning from his mistakes.

All of his efforts had led to this ultimate moment, the taste of victory on his lips.

You noticed he had been shifting uncomfortably and you looked up, puzzled and concerned.

“Jaehyun? You okay?”

He looked at you, his ears red, a sign that he was anxious, nervous.

“Jaehyun? What-”

Your words got stuck in your throat as he knelt down on one knee, the lights overhead bringing out the sparkle in his eyes and the shine in his hair. Those dark orbs were so full of hope, anxiety and love all intermingled in one and you found it difficult to believe that those eyes were looking at you directly, the emotions in them all for you.

Jaehyun withdrew a tiny, velvet box from his pocket and popped it open. In the box, was a tiny diamond ring, glittering and absolutely regal. The diamond itself was beautifully cut and interwoven into the metal band with microfibres of white gold and it simply shone as the camera flashes went off. The crowd was going bonkers, screaming and cheering with wolf whistles.

“Y/n,” he spoke softly, his voice gentle. “You have always been there for me, always been my better half. We have been friends for over a decade and lovers for merely two but it seemed as if we always were meant for each other. It took me so long to realise that and there is not a day I don’t regret not realising it sooner. You are my everything - my past, present and future. Falling in love with you was gradual, unconscious. I guess my heart knew you the one before I even did. It started with me being in a dark, dark place where I drowned in my own self-hatred and insecurities. I was beaten, defeated and I just gave up. Where everyone did the same, you never did. You were like a beam of shining light, shining upon me and guiding me even if I didn’t notice it at the time. But when I did, you glowed even more brightly than I’d envisioned. I’d been oblivious to your beauty both inside and outside for far too long and god knows how much I fucking regret it. I’m different now though, because of you. I am the best version of myself right now because I have you in my life. You taught me how to love, allow myself to be loved. There’s no universe whereby I’d want to be without you. I can’t see myself without you in my life. I need you, I love you.”

Tears were beginning to stream down your face and the stadium had grown quieter, all tuning into what was happening.

Jaehyun looked up at you, hopeful and so full of love that you thought your heart might burst.

“So I guess what I’m saying is, will you marry me, y/n?” He asked breathlessly.

522 notes · View notes

extasiswings · 4 years ago

Note

“i’ll keep you warm” eddie has a nightmare post-shooting 👀 (or however you wanna write it!)

This was not supposed to be this long...rated M-ish for some mild smut at the end. On ao3 here.

The thing Eddie remembers most about the shooting isn’t the shot itself, or the pain, or even the fear—it’s the cold. The icy numbness of shock curling down his spine, twisting through his veins like tendrils of frost creeping across a windowpane in winter. Cold, as his pulse skyrocketed, his body’s signals all crossed and confused and trying to circulate blood, not seeming to grasp the fact that his blood was seeping out onto the asphalt beneath him, that trying to circulate it faster was just making it worse. Cold, like he was a stupid kid at camp diving into a frigid lake before dawn, except above him was blue sky and a bright sun beating down and the fact that it was Los Angeles in May didn’t do a damn thing to help.

He couldn’t feel it. He could only feel the cold.

Buck, though—Buck, he felt. Buck’s hands burned, on his chest, his neck, his face, so warm that Eddie almost wanted to flinch away, but he didn’t. He was aware enough to realize that if Buck was warm, he was probably telling the truth when he said he wasn’t hurt. And that was good. That was all he needed to know.

The cold—

Eddie’s been through enough in his life to know that his subconscious works in weird ways. After Afghanistan he dreamed more directly of burning helicopters and gunfire, blood in his mouth and smoke on his tongue. Shadows and screams and guilt. After the well his dreams were of Christopher, Shannon, waves crashing on a beach. And Buck. Sunlight.

This time...this time Eddie dreams of drowning. Trapped beneath ice, his hands slamming against it, eventually forced to inhale—water flooding his mouth, his throat, his lungs—cold, cold, cold—

Sometimes after he wakes he’ll spend hours shivering. Phantom chills that won’t go away even when he wraps himself in blankets.

The therapist he’s mandated to see before he can be cleared for work tells him that the brain doesn’t always process trauma by taking the most direct path. Eddie doesn’t know why his has fixated on this. The cold. Maybe it’s just easiest. Because the shooting—

His chest gets tight when he’s walking in open air. Sweat breaks out across his brow when the sunlight glints off of windows. His pulse races.

He can’t breathe.

It feels a little like drowning.

“Do you feel safe?” Dr. Kingston asks one session. And Eddie thinks about freezing in a grocery store parking lot, gripping the edge of a cart to keep his hands from shaking, thinks about Buck curving a hand around his shoulder, solid and warm—

“Sometimes,” Eddie admits. “It depends.”

“Depends on what?”

He tastes the lie on his tongue before it slips out.

“I don’t know.”

When the world shut down and Eddie had to leave Christopher with his abuela so that he could keep working without worrying constantly that he was putting his son at risk, Buck’s was the obvious place to go. And Eddie doesn’t know if things would have been different if it had been just the two of them but Hen and Chim deciding it was also the obvious place for them to go meant there weren’t a lot of options for sleeping arrangements.

So Eddie shared the bed with Buck. And it didn’t matter if either of them wound up wrapped around the other, the lines of their bodies pressed close enough to bleed together. If they curled into one another like plants twisting to find the light.

It was...instinct. To seek comfort. Warmth. Touch. Both of them alone for so long, and just needing—

Needing.

They never talked about it—there wasn’t anything to talk about. If it made Eddie’s heart race, if it made him ache for something he hadn’t expected and didn’t wholly understand, if when he returned home alone again his own bed felt too empty, that was his own problem.

Now, though—

Now, he knows. Because he stood frozen on the street and stared at Buck with Carla’s words in his head—make sure you’re following your heart—and realized oh. It hadn’t just been convenience, it had been love. Need and desire and love.

Now, he knows, but doesn’t know what to do with that knowledge, with the awareness he has suddenly. Buck is living in his house, in his space, helping him with Christopher and with his own recovery, making sure he takes his meds and gets to his appointments and does his exercises. Buck is there all the time and it’s a blessing and a curse because Eddie burns whenever Buck touches him.

And Buck touches him. A lot.

He hadn’t at first, right after Eddie came home from the hospital—Eddie would catch him sometimes looking like he wanted to, but holding back, reaching out but stopping himself, and Eddie never asked why. Even now he doesn’t think he ever needed to—he knows what it’s like to be afraid, to be unsteady, adrift, worrying that touching something you expect to be solid will reveal it’s just an illusion. Not wanting to find out if it is.

But Buck touches him now. And sometimes Eddie will wake up to find that Buck’s migrated from the couch in the living room to a chair by his bed, folded in and fitfully asleep. Buck never says, but Eddie’s pretty sure it’s so Buck can reassure himself that Eddie’s still breathing.

Eddie understands that need too. Sometimes he isn’t sure himself.

The first time it happens after Buck’s relationship with Taylor has flamed out—for himself, he and Ana have been over since just after he left the hospital—Eddie finally just gets up.

“Buck.” He curves a hand around the side of Buck’s neck and passes his thumb along the edge of his jaw.

Buck startles awake, looking somehow guilty.

“I didn’t wake you up, did I? Sorry, I know it’s—I can go back to the—”

“Will you just come to bed?” Eddie interrupts before Buck successfully talks himself into leaving the room. “Please?”

Buck’s eyes flick down to his shoulder. He swallows hard.

“I don’t want to—”

Oh.

“You won’t hurt me,” Eddie promises. “Okay?”

Buck searches his face in the dark, but if he sees anything, he clearly doesn’t mind because he nods and gets up from the chair. When they both resettle on the mattress, Buck only pauses for a moment before curving around him like a parenthesis, his arm falling across Eddie’s waist.

Eddie’s breath catches.

“Is this—?”

Eddie closes his eyes and sinks into the embrace. If it feels just a little bit like cheating because he hasn't told Buck how he feels, that’s between him and god.

“It’s fine,” he assures, then adds to make it a little more fair, “you aren’t the only one who needs—you aren’t the only one.”

Buck relaxes at that, his grip tightening a little with newfound certainty.

When Eddie dreams, he doesn’t drown.

“You look good,” Dr. Kingston acknowledges two weeks later. “You’ve been sleeping better?”

“Yeah,” Eddie replies. “I stopped having nightmares, so I haven’t been waking up as much.”

He catches the surprise that flickers across her face.

“They stopped completely?” She asks. “Have you been doing something different or—?”

Eddie shifts in his chair and clears his throat. What is he supposed to tell her? That he stopped having nightmares when he started sleeping with Buck every night? He’s not really ready to unpack that with his therapist—he’s barely ready to unpack it in his own head.

“Just lucky, I guess,” he says. Dr. Kingston puts down her pen and levels him with a long look that tells him she knows that’s bullshit and is trying to decide whether to push or let it go until another time.

She lets it go.

“Well,” she replies. “I’m glad to hear it.”

Eddie feels like he’s dodged another bullet.

Later, though, he wonders if he shouldn’t have said more. If he shouldn’t have asked questions. Because he goes to sleep and—

The water is pitch black and freezing. Eddie’s eyes sting, but it doesn’t matter whether he keeps them open or not—there’s nothing to see. He kicks his legs anyway, swims up, up, up, even though it hurts to make his limbs work when they’re so cold. There’s a faint light—the surface—and he kicks harder, desperate to reach—

Ice. Nothing but a sheet of ice, solid and thick. His lungs burn from lack of air, his palms beat against the ice—

He can’t keep moving. It’s too cold. He can’t—

“Eddie. Eddie.” Hands seize him from nowhere, almost too warm, and Eddie could have sworn the ice had no cracks, but he’s being lifted out—

“Eddie.”

He snaps awake, gasping. Buck’s face swims into view, worry painted across every line. His hands are on Eddie’s shoulders.

They’re so warm.

Eddie shivers.

“You were hyperventilating,” Buck says. “I thought—”

“Just a dream,” Eddie grits out, trying to keep his teeth from chattering. He still feels frozen. Stupid—it was a dream, it wasn’t real, so he shouldn’t—it shouldn’t be this difficult.

He shivers again.

Buck’s brow furrows deeper.

“You’re shaking—are you cold?”

Eddie sits up and scrubs his hands over his face. He swallows back the denial on his tongue, the urge to run away and hide in the bathroom until a scalding shower makes him feel somewhat human again. Maybe he can’t always be honest with his therapist, but he can be honest with Buck.

“Yes,” he admits. “But it’s not—it’s just in my head. When I got shot I—it’s hard to explain but, yes. I’m cold. Freezing. I don’t know how—”

He cuts off and Buck shifts on the mattress, reaches out slowly so Eddie has plenty of time to stop him if he doesn’t want to be touched, and finally wraps his arms around him, pulling Eddie firmly against his chest.

“I’ll keep you warm,” Buck says quietly. And Eddie—

Something in him cracks. Not like ice during a thaw, but resolve after too much time of being worn down, pressure applied in precisely the right spot. He’s raw and ragged and his scarred heart hardly feels like anything anyone should want, but he’s so tired of pretending he hasn’t been trying to press it into Buck’s hands for a year in different ways. He’s tired of not asking and being afraid and waiting. He’s tired—

Buck makes a soft sound of surprise when Eddie kisses him. But he doesn’t push him away. And Eddie can’t help himself from pressing closer, curling one hand into Buck’s shirt and the other around the back of his neck and kissing him again and again and again, feeling altogether too frantic. He’ll probably find it in himself to be embarrassed in the morning, but want and desperation have left very little room for shame at the moment.

Buck kisses him back. His hands drop to Eddie’s hips as Eddie does his best to climb into his lap.

“Eddie,” Buck pants between kisses. “Eddie—I—” His head falls back and Eddie takes the opportunity to continue his exploration down the exposed line of Buck’s neck.

“Should we talk about this?” Buck finally manages, even as his own hands flirt with the hem of Eddie’s shirt.

Eddie freezes. The answer, of course, is yes. But talking is the last thing he wants to do when part of him still feels chilled to the bone, not wholly alive. He wants to be touched, wants to be consumed, wants to fall into orbit around Buck’s sun and never leave.

And it’s late. Dark. The two of them, the bed, the very room caught in a liminal space where anything could happen, anything could be said, anything could be forgiven. Eddie can’t decide if that’s a good thing or a dangerous one.

His mouth drags along the edge of Buck’s jaw.

“This isn’t because I wanted someone and you happened to be here, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

He doesn’t look at Buck’s face. It’s easier to not, to focus on something else. He stopped going to confession a long time ago, but he never had to look directly at his priest either, always some curtain or other barrier obscuring things, lending the illusion of privacy, anonymity.

“I’m in love with you,” he admits, and Buck’s hands flex on his hips. “I’ve been in love with you. So we can talk about this if you want, but—”

In an instant, Eddie’s on his back, the rest of his sentence swallowed up by the tongue sliding into his mouth. Buck is a warm, solid weight on top of him, pinning him, anchoring him, and Eddie finds he doesn’t mind when it forces him to be in the moment, reminds him that he’s fully in his own body.

“I love you, too,” Buck whispers when the kiss breaks, and then he’s pushing Eddie’s shirt up and off and dispensing with his own—

Shannon was his first. Eddie wasn’t hers and he remembers being glad that at least one of them had some idea of what to do because the second she touched him he was so overwhelmed by sensation that he could hardly think.

This is…not dissimilar. Buck’s chest presses flush against his, all warm, bare skin, and Eddie feels like he could drown in a different way. He arches up, seeking Buck’s mouth again, and Buck obliges.

Eddie’s focus narrows to certain points—the slick slide of Buck’s tongue against his, Buck’s hand ghosting along his ribs, the careful space between their hips and the low burn of heat in his gut that makes him want to close the gap—

His hands slide up Buck’s back slowly, his fingers tracing the knobs of Buck’s spine, the sharp edges of his shoulder blades—they dance along the line of his shoulders too, sketching the breadth that he’s noticed but never allowed his thoughts to linger on. His touch is careful, reverent, as if Buck is a holy thing that his stained, sinner hands have no business touching. Perhaps, in a sense that’s true.

He’s never been a very good Catholic, but sex—sex, desire, love—sex has always been something…sacred to him. In high school, he shied away from the locker room-style conversations about who went how far with whom, kept out of any discussion involving lamentations about still being a virgin at graduation. For one thing, he thought they were usually crass and disrespectful. But mainly he just—he didn’t care about waiting until marriage or anything like that, but he always knew he wanted to be in love. Hence, Shannon. And why there hadn’t been anyone after her.

Until now.

Eddie kisses Buck until his lungs ache, but he’s not close enough, feels like he can’t get close enough. One of his hands slides into Buck’s hair, but the other trails back down, presses lightly on Buck’s lower back as his own hips rock up, seeking friction. Buck swears against his lips and closes the distance—Eddie can feel him hard in his sweatpants and flushes, dizzy at the thought of having made that happen, dizzy at the thought of more, dizzy—

He feels very much like a clumsy teenager again, fumbling his way through on instinct. At least this sort of thing is familiar, even if he hasn’t done it with a man before. Buck grinds their hips together, the friction sending sparks through every one of Eddie’s nerve endings, and kisses down his neck, teeth scraping over his pulse point. Eddie gasps and Buck hums, low and pleased, against his skin.

And then, just as he thinks he’s used to the slow burn of pleasure, Buck shifts his weight and slides a hand down to toy with Eddie’s waistband. Buck meets his eyes in the dark and swallows hard.

“Can I—?”

This time, when Eddie shivers it has nothing to do with the cold.

“Please,” he rasps, and Buck smiles before tugging Eddie’s pants down just enough to wrap his hand around Eddie’s cock.

Buck’s touch is a little tentative at first, clearly unused to the angle, and the part of Eddie that’s still capable of noticing that spends a brief moment feeling grateful that he’s not the only one lacking in experience here. But what Buck may lack in experience, he makes up for in enthusiasm, experimenting with grip and speed and pressure to figure out exactly what to do to make Eddie gasp again, to make him bite his lip, to make him hide his face in Buck’s shoulder to muffle any louder noises he can’t quite hold back.

It doesn’t take long. Even before the shooting, Eddie rarely bothered to touch himself with any sort of regularity, and during his recovery he had even less of a reason to do so, what little energy he had in the first few months better spent elsewhere. He hadn’t realized how badly he needed it. But clearly his body did because his orgasm hits him like a train when Buck spits into his hand for extra glide and twists his wrist on the upstroke. He bites Buck’s shoulder and Buck’s hips jerk and then he’s just floating—boneless, breathless, and utterly wrecked in the best possible way.

Buck collapses on the mattress next to him as Eddie’s catching his breath—Eddie reaches out, his hand skating over Buck’s stomach, and makes a questioning noise. Buck laughs quietly and catches his hand, bringing it to his lips.

“I, uh—I’m good,” Buck promises, and even in the dark Eddie can see his cheeks flush.

Eddie curls into his side. “Really?”

Buck kisses him. “I don’t think you realize how long I’ve wanted to do that. Or how good you look. So, yes, I already—yes. Really.”

Eddie’s lips curve up. He presses a kiss to the edge of Buck’s jaw. As the immediate aftermath wears off, his eyelids start to grow heavy, his limbs moving a little less easily.

“We should probably shower,” he acknowledges, although the strength of the statement is likely diminished by the yawn that interrupts him halfway through.

“Probably,” Buck agrees, but he too makes no move to actually get up.

Pressed against him as he is, Eddie is warm and sated and content. He drifts, skirting the edge of sleep.

“I love you,” he says again. Because it feels important.

Buck hums. If he says something else, it’s too low for Eddie to catch.

When he dreams again, he doesn’t dream of drowning. He doesn’t dream of the cold.

Instead, there’s just light. Just warmth.

Just Buck.

#chapel writes #buddie #buddie fic #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 fic

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mickeyhenrysgf · 4 years ago

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Same Old Mistakes

Summary: Lee Bodecker is jealous of your new relationship with Arvin Russell

Pairings: Modern Day! Arvin Russell x reader, Modern Day! Lee Bodecker x reader

Warnings: manipulation, age gap (reader is in college 20), cheating , dub con, unprotected sex, degrading language, dark themes, please don’t read if you’re not 18+ or these warnings make you uncomfortable.

Author’s note: this is kind of a sequel to my other one shot Party Favors from my old account. You don’t really have to read it though to understand. Anyways, someone commented the reader should fuck Arvin & well I put my own twist on it because I love Lee way too much.

It’s been a month since Sheriff Bodecker was called to stop your party. You wished you could erase the memories from the night. Lee always had a soft spot for you but you took his kindness for granted.

In exchange for not getting turned in for your noise complaint, you had to get on your knees for the Sheriff. To think the sheriff would even care about you or even your pleasures was a silly idea. He cares about one thing and one thing only. Controlling everyone in the town. But, that was a month ago. You stayed clear from misconduct, you didn’t want to see his face ever again.

Now, you were somewhat happy. You were finally interested in someone around your age. His name was Arvin Russell. Everyday after class, he waited for you in his old beat up truck. Arvin didn’t go to college but you didn’t mind. He had small jobs here and there where he would even save some of his money to buy you small things. It was his way of showing that he really liked you. Maybe, you could see yourself falling for him...

“Got your s’ favorite” Arvin announced in his Southern accent that you loved. He had a cheeky smile as he took out a sandwich from his metal lunchbox. A new meal was always waiting for you after class.

You smiled brightly, leaning in and giving him a kiss on the cheek. Arvin pouted softly as he pointed to his lips and you chuckled giving him a kiss on the lips which he rightly deserved.

“You’re the best, Arvin!” you pressed another kiss to his nose. A tint of red started to cover his ears. He truly was one of the sweetest boys you met in town. You cherished it.

But, he wasn’t just sweet. He also knew how to woo a girl in bed...

“Holy fuck—!” You moaned, your eyes rolled back as Arvin pounded into you. The headboard colliding with the wall with every thrust. Arvin had a smirk plastered on his face. This was his favorite thing to do. Pleasure you.

“atta girl... doing so good for me...” he mumbled against your lips, his thumb swiping against your clit as his hips rutted into you. He grabbed your legs and hooked them over his shoulders creating a even more pleasurable experience.

“You close, my pretty girl—? Gunna cum for me, yeah?” Your hands pulled onto his locks and your mouth widened without a sound signaling your release as Arvin grunted heavily. With a few more thrusts, he emptied himself in the condom and pulled out of you, collapsing onto the bed. The condom thrown into the nearby trash can.

He pulled your sweaty body onto his, he watched as you panted against his chest. His heart swelled from the effect you had on him.

“I want you to be my girl for real...” he finally whispered softly, his thumb caressing your cheek. You looked up at him.

“Like— your girlfriend?”

“Mmhm—“ he mumbled and you smiled brightly, leaning forward and kissing him deeply.

As Lee Bodecker parked his car at the gas station, he saw a couple in a car not too far from where he was. The two shadows talked for a moment before they kissed each other on the nose. He couldn’t quite make out who they were but he figured it was young love. He rolled his eyes, until he noticed something. His eyes squinted and he moved his seat up, until his belly pressed against the wheel. It was you.

“Here, get yourself something. We still got a few hours left.” Arvin insisted handing you money.

“Baby... I can buy it on my own, it’s fine” you protested pushing his hand away slightly. He shook his head.

“Please. I don’t mind... how about you order us two hot sandwiches, so then you don’t feel so bad” you sighed heavily, looking down at the money in his hand.

“Fine but this is the last time, babe.”

Arvin hushed you softly, settling the money in your palm. He kissed the bridge of your nose and then your lips. The act itself warming you from within.

“I gotta pump the gas and fill the tires which is going take a while. See you in 15. Now go on.” You nodded and settled out of the car, walking into the convenient store.

You looked around the store. Arvin did say you would be on the road for some time. Everything looked good but you really didn’t want to waste all of his money. As you continued to look, the store doorbell rung signaling a new costumer had arrived.

Lee Bodecker walked into the store with a new sense of confidence. The girl who had been ignoring him for weeks had finally crossed paths with him again. He tilted his hat at the store manager before he walked towards you.

He found himself sliding into the same aisle where you were in. You were two busy bending down and looking at different flavors of chips to notice his presence behind you. His eyes roamed your backside and he bit his lip at the curve of your ass. If only he could push himself right against it.

You turned around to head into the next aisle but you collided into a taller figure. The chips in your hand fell onto the ground. You quickly scrambled to pick them up but a hand stopped you.

“No need Y/N... the pleasure is mine” you could recognize the accent from miles away.

Your heart practically stopped as you stood up to meet eyes with Lee who casually winked at you. That was the problem with the sheriff. He sweet talked you, then used you, and then did it all over again.

“I haven’t seen you in forever. Seems like you are doing everything in your power to not get into trouble...” he chuckled darkly, his eyes stayed on yours.

“Uh- yeah. I guess you can say that. Trouble is just not my thing anymore” you shrugged, looking around the store trying your best to ignore him.

Other customers continued to shop. They didn’t mind the presence of the sheriff.

“I bet.” Lee continued.

“You know... we never talked about that night between us.” You stopped in your tracks as Lee said those words. Memories from a month ago rushing back.

“Shit, you move on quick. Already sucking another man’s cock, huh?” He bended slightly to whisper in your ear just enough for you to hear. His lips grazed against your ear ever so slightly which made you shudder.

You quickly stepped away from him. Your relationship with Arvin was fairly new. He couldn’t have possibly known.

“What are you talking about?!”

“I saw you and Arvin in the car just now” He placed his hands on his hips.

“Congratulations... but he’s uh- a handful” Lee joked, his jaw clenching. You turned on your heel but Lee grabbed your arm tightly. Almost to the point of a potential bruise.

“Lee, stop. You’re hurting me...” you sneered through your teeth. He looked around the store before he grabbed you to the back and pulled you into the store’s bathroom, quickly locking the two of you in there.

“Lee-! You can’t just-! I have to go to back to Arvin!” You pushed his slightly protruding belly, trying to make your way to the door but he pulled you back.

“First off, it’s sheriff to you now. And second of all you don’t leave until I’m done talking to you. Or we can have a repeat from the party. You hear me?” He threatened, his eyes much darker from when he first greeted you.

You gulped lightly, throwing your hands to the side. Protesting wouldn’t get you anywhere. Just let him talk and you’ll be within Arvin’s arms in a few.

“Did you tell him about us?” He asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“What? No. Why would I do that?” Lee laughed softly, taking off his sheriff’s hat and running his fingers through his hands.

There was nothing to tell Arvin. But, Lee thought otherwise. He pushed you back against the wall, as you stared up at him.

“Because if I was him, I would want to know that my girl goes around sucking the sheriff’s dick and then begs him to fuck her”

“T-that was one time... and it was the p-past...” his words hit you one after the other. He was shaming you for an act he manipulated you into doing. Tears started to prickle at the corner of your eyes.

You were a good person. You deserved Arvin. Lee just loved playing the role of the knight in shining armor who pretended to fix your bad behavior every single time.

“Just the past” he repeated with an uncertainty in his voice. His thumb pressed against your lips like old times but you turned your head.

He rolled his eyes at your actions.

“You were such a bad girl. But, who always left you off with a warning? Hmmm? Any other sheriff would have thrown you in the back of the cop car, while you wait for mommy and daddy to pick you up!”

His hands roamed your body as he continued to speak.

“You avoided me for a whole month because you knew you wanted me and you were afraid” he sighed heavily, glaring at you.

Maybe. He was right. But you couldn’t give him the satisfaction. Not yet at least.

“Arvin... really, Y/N?” Lee sighed, pushing away from you in disbelief.

“I like him, Sheriff. He’s a good person. He treats me right. He actually likes me and takes care of me!” You pleaded as your eyes followed him as he paced along the small bathroom.

A tear slipped against your cheek. The doorknob was so close, you could make a run if you were fast enough.

“Do you love him?” He questioned, a hint of jealousy present in his tone.

“I-I don’t know...” Lee turned around and placed himself back on you.

“I can make you feel so much better than he can...” his nose pressed against your neck, as his hands grabbed your waist.

The attraction you had for Lee was still here. It almost made you feel sick inside. If he really cared for you, he wouldn’t do this. But, his words were messing with you. A voice in your head even tried to convince you to listen to him.

“Y/N, let me show what I should have done on the night of the Halloween party” his lips ghosted over yours and pressed onto you softly. He deepened the kiss and you allowed it at first.

Lee Bodecker was finally kissing you. Something you craved for the longest. But, it felt wrong. You struggled and pushed him away.

“Stop—!” You were out of breath as you took a beeline towards the door but Lee grabbed your hair and yanked you back.

“What the hell do you think you are doing?!” He barked, and you winced in pain at his grip. When he heard your whine, he reluctantly let go but kept his arm around your body.

“I’m in a r-relationship, sheriff!” You stammered, scared to even look him in the eyes. Lee tilted your chin up, his eyes now softer. He had to think of his next actions carefully.

He was playing his favorite game on you.

“God, Y/N. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I got carried away” his arms cradled you in his embrace. His lips kissed your temple. His manners switched instantly. He knew playing the role of the bad wolf wouldn’t win you over.

“I care for you so much, darlin’ and Arvin... he’s not the one for you. He’s done a lot of bad things” Lee said softly, his thumb wiped your tears and cupped your face. If you were going to believe anything, you’d believe Lee & his job.

You raised an eyebrow. Arvin never expressed his wrongdoings. Yeah, he beat up a few bullies from school but they deserved it. Suddenly, you didn’t feel so uncomfortable in Lee’s embrace. Lee noticed this as your posture softened.

This was his chance.

“Really? Like what?”

“Oh, darlin’ if I tell ya— you’ll be scared of the poor boy. I don’t want that.” He informed, his lips pressed against your forehead again.

He was reeling you in with every word. This time you actually felt butterflies in your stomach.

If Arvin was a bad man, as the sheriff explained, then maybe Lee was actually protecting you.

“Please, sheriff... Please, tell me—” His eyes widened at your pleas. Something in him awakened. His cock stirred in his pants, a hard on soon to form. You sounded like an angel to him. He wished you would beg some more.

“You really wanna know—“ he teased, his hands falling to your sides, down your back, and right before your ass. You nodded, pushing into him some more. He bit his lip, his cock straining against his trousers.

“Well, he’s good with his Luger pistol, I’ll tell you that—“ he half joked. Lee tested the waters and suddenly put his hands on your ass. To his surprise, you didn’t move away. It’s not like you didn’t feel his hands either. You were just too busy, caught up in wanting to know more. But, it also did feel good, which you didn’t dare to admit.

He wanted to just bend you over the bathroom sink and have his way already. Just a few more lines and he’d be there.

“Remember that pastor in town who passed away a while ago—“

You nodded recollecting the only town’s gossip. You never went to church, but you remembered hearing the death on the television. It was one of the only major events that happened in Knockemstiff. Lee’s hands squeezed your ass softly and then wandered up your shirt.

“W-what does the pastor have to with a-anything?” You mumbled, holding in your moans at Lee’s actions. His hands cupped your covered breasts and began to grope them. In one swift movement, your bra was off and Lee was pinching your nipples. You gasped, arching yourself towards him.

“Shhh... getting to the best part. Just listen.” He whispered, pressing soft kisses against your neck and you finally moaned. Victory. Lee even started to get carried away and grinded against you.

You knew how wrong this was. It was overwhelming. If Arvin ever found out what was taking place, he’d leave you. This had to stay a secret.

“You’re taking too long!” you whined, feeling the sheriff’s hands and body engulf you. Although it was turning you on, you had to get back to Arvin.

“What did I just say? Don’t rush me” he bellowed, as he shoved two fingers in your mouth. The feeling wasn’t unfamiliar. He’s done this before at the night of the party. You played along with him and swirled your tongue around his digits.

You just needed to know what Arvin did. You had to see if he was worth it. But, you were surely testing Lee’s patience. He needed your pussy now.

“Turns out your precious boyfriend was a part of the murder...” he popped his fingers out your mouth, already undoing your jeans and pushing them down. He pushed your panties to the side and rubbed your clit with his soaked fingers. You bit your lip, throwing your head back and Lee chuckled at your body’s response. He turned your body around, the two of you now looking into the mirror.

“What?”

“Your little boyfriend killed the pastor.” Lee’s eyes studied yours as they widened through mirror. He nodded, moving your hair away from your neck. His fingers danced against the skin, goosebumps forming.

“T-that can’t be true-“ you murmured, as Lee began to place sloppy wet kisses over your exposed skin.

Arvin Russell was a good man. If he killed someone, there had to be a good reason.

One thing Lee was good at was creating his own version of the truth.

Your thoughts were clouded from Lee’s actions. It was all too much, but you couldn’t push away from Lee even if you wanted to.

“Well, start believing darlin’— you need a real man. Someone who is gunna take care of ya— That boy just gunna mess with your damn head...” The next thing you heard was the sound of the sheriff’s belt being unbuckled and his pants dropping. You sucked in a breath, already knowing what would happen next. There was no need to turn around.

“You’re not gunna run away now, are you?” He teased, as his cock ran through your folds, collecting your wetness. You gasped lightly biting down on your lip, shaking your head.

“That’s a good girl. Now, hold on, sheriff’s gunna make you feel real good.” He smirked motioning you to hold onto the sink as he slowly entered you. Your hands tightened around the sink as you moaned at how thick he was.

“Fuck!” You both announced as Lee fully bottomed out holding onto your hips. His thrusts quickly falling into a steady pace, as he pulled your hair back.

“So tight and wet-! Whose this pussy belong to huh?” His hand fell onto your right cheek, and then your left, until it made a type of red shade. It was the right amount of pain and pleasure.

You wanted to say his name but your mind kept drifting to Arvin. He was probably worried sick. 15 minutes definitely had already passed.

Lee scoffed as if he somehow could read your thoughts. His thrusts became deeper and rougher, his hand wrapping around your throat.

“I asked you a fuckin’ question!” Lee spat, his voice was deeper, almost animalistic.

“My cock is in this dirty cunt—! Not him!” Before you could reply he slapped your ass with a stronger force.

“It belongs to you!” you whimpered, tears falling from your eyes. He groaned, his lips sucking and licking against your neck. He was close but he wanted you to cum with him. His fingers once again giving your clit attention which was a little too harsh.

His thrusts were getting sloppier by the second, slowly but surely the only one on your mind was Lee and how good his cock felt around you.

“God, I’m going to make you my little whore. Your pretty face and cunt stuffed with my cock whenever I like, say yes” He grunted, his fingers digging into your hips and to his surprise you wiggled your ass against him. Even clenched around him. You were too lost in the ecstasy. He’s got you now.

“Yes—! Yes, I’ll be your whore!” you practically begged, humiliated by your words but it felt too good.

“Going to fill this cunt up now— and tomorrow and the day after that. You’ll love it.“ he grunted through his teeth.

“Please—!” You moaned, the only sounds consisted of heavy panting and his cock pounding in and out of you. The mirror already fogged.

“Cum with me!” He groaned, his final thrust helping you reach your orgasm. Moments later, Lee was stilling inside you and painting your walls which felt like forever, some of his cum seeping down your thighs.

He leaned over and wiped down the mirror. Your appearance was much messier from when you got there. Tear stained cheeks, make up ruined, & messy hair. You looked horrible but to Lee you looked like a doll. The sight already making his cock hard again.

He turned you around and lifted you up on the sink. “Mine” he observed, the coldness from the sink made you wince. Lee propped your mouth open and spat inside.

“Swallow.” And you gladly did as he pulled you into a forceful kiss, teeth and tongue clashing. His hands played with your breasts as the two of you moaned in pleasure.

He officially ruined you... and claimed you.

“Who do you belong to?” He asked one final time as he broke the sloppy kiss, saliva disconnecting from yours and his mouth.

“You... sheriff.” He nodded proudly, grabbing his boxers and trousers from the floor, and dressed himself. He picked up your panties and stuffed them into his pocket. You began to protest but he hushed you.

“You’ll get these back after you leave him... Don’t keep me waiting, honey.” Lee announced sternly, kissing you again and then leaving you alone in the bathroom.

Your propped yourself off the sink, your legs shakily going over to grab your jeans to put them on quickly. You splashed some water on your face but it didn’t change anything. Your hair covered your new forming hickies but it couldn’t take away your post sex look.

You nervously opened the bathroom door and walked back into the main area of the store. The store was quiet and the sheriff was already gone.

“Baby—! There you are—“ Arvin’s voice startled you from behind as he hurried over to you and pulled you into his arms. His hands cupping your face. “What happened?” He questioned, concern written all over his face.

“I was in the bathroom I-uh- have a really bad stomach ache. I don’t know. It came out of nowhere...” you mumbled, holding onto your stomach. Somehow trying to convince him that was the reason for your horrible appearance. He signed in relief, rocking your body back and forth.

“Come on, I’ll drive you home...”

Arvin was oblivious. Maybe, he was too in love and just believed anything that came out of your mouth. You were thankful for that. His hands interlaced with yours, as you both walked out the store, a limp in your step.

The sheriff’s car was parked in the front just like he said he would. He told you in the bathroom he would wait for you.

Most importantly, To leave Arvin.

The two of you locked eyes. The sight in front of him filled him up with jealousy. He saw the way you were limping. Proudly, caused by him. But here you were laced hand in hand with Arvin.

If you weren’t going to leave him, then Lee would take matters into his own hands. The sheriff stepped out his car, stopping you & Arvin. His hands on his hips as he tilted his hat up.

“Something wrong, Sheriff?” Arvin asked, holding you close.

“Just need to have a few words with Miss Y/N at my office. Something about her family came up. Won’t be too long and nothing for you to worry about. I’ll take her home to you— later” he drawled out the last words, his eyes filled with anger and his jaw clenched, you were in for it.

#lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker smut #lee bodecker x you #sebastian stan x reader

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carloswilliamcarlos · 4 years ago

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Whodunnit (Charlie Barber x Reader)

Warnings: Smut, PIV sex, infidelity/cheating, alcohol mention

A/N: IT’S TIME FOR CHARLIE PORN. Yes this is essentially just a remix of Lights Out. I have no original ideas but I am horny, take it or leave it. Also Sackler is there too this time.

Words: 2.2k

“It was a dark and stormy night,” the speech begins. And strangely enough, it was.

As if cued by god herself, a crack of thunder tears through the sky. Lightning illuminates the room just for a moment, strobing everything inside in ghost-white light. The hostess, her hair done up in dramatic curls and lips lined in dark red. The guests in masks and top hats, expressions frozen for an instant. Shadows splash onto red brick, splattered against the walls in grotesque angles. You jump, holding on tighter to Sackler’s sweaty hand. Behind you, a low chuckle.

You don’t need a flash of light to know whose breath is tickling your neck.

Charlie.

Of course he’d find it funny that you leapt into the air when thunder crashed. He always did love seeing you surprised. And he’s surely amused at your body curling closer to this child of a man who could do less to protect you than a puppy. His words, of course. At least, that’s what you imagine.

You’d locked eyes as you circled up for the story just moments ago. Your pulse still hasn’t slowed. He was gorgeous, all in black from head to toe, with a blood red mask tied around his eyes. His hair was so long, so dark, he towered over you and looked like fear incarnate, so dangerous and so beautiful your skin flushed hot at just the sight and…

...and Sackler looked nice, too.

It’s a scene from a nightmare already, your boyfriend and the married man you fucked in a stairwell last week in the very same room. Locked in at a murder mystery party with your entire theater company. On a dark and rainy night. Until someone solves this goddamn mystery and you can run home and take out every ounce of wet frustration on the man whose hand you’re gripping so tight now your nails are leaving marks.

“Hey,” he whispers at you, shaking your grip off.

“Sorry,” you mumble, slipping your fingers out through the gaps and wiping your palm on your vintage slip.

“Who murdered Madame Millicent? The answer sets you free. The clues are all around you… I suggest you look closely,” the hostess stage-whispers with a flourish. She takes her role very seriously.

“I think we should split up,” you tell Sackler without as much as a glance his way. You’re acutely aware of how slowly Charlie’s moving behind you.

“What?” Sackler pouts. “I don’t know any of these people.”

“You don’t have to know them, you just have to find clues,” you retort, words rushed.

“But I came here to be with you.” Sackler’s hands snake around your waist and he bends down to your height as you cast a glance over your shoulder. “I wanna do bad things to you in the dark,” he mumbles against your skin. And it’s right at that moment you and Charlie lock eyes again.

You push Sackler’s hands off you. It takes a few swats and shoves just to peel them away.

“You will,” you tell him, swiveling your head back around to look him in the eyes. “I promise, you will, just… Come find me. In a little while. Come find me in the dark and you can do whatever you want.”

You manage a little smile then, and Sackler seems more than titillated. He presses a kiss to your cheek, and you take in the smell of him, all warm spice and cinnamon and just a little too much cologne. With a final squeeze of your waist, he steps away, walking backward into the darkness with a cheeky grin and tripping over the edge of the coffee table on the way.

Charlie’s nowhere to be seen.

Everything’s hushed now, almost silent. Only the “Spooky Halloween Ambiance” playlist carries through the speakers and winds around the room. You might have been spooked if you hadn’t helped the hostess find it on Spotify earlier this morning.

Pairs of figures move around in near darkness, looking for answers. There’s only candlelight now, and not much of it. You only hope these clues don’t involve much reading.

Another crack of lightning gets you moving, taking step by cautious step from room to room, looking for anything that will get you out. You pass the kitchen, stocked with cocktail glasses and extra swirls of orange peels. The bathroom, where a group of girls is deciphering a lipstick message on the mirror.

And then there’s the library.

You’re sure there must be something in here you need.

You step into the room and lock the door behind you, not wanting to give away any solves you find. It’s so, so dark, you can hardly make out the edge of the wooden bookshelf as you graze it with your fingers. Slowly, you make your way along the shelf, skimming over book by book, looking for anything of interest. There are no sounds but your own shaky breath and your pulse rushing in your ears. And then you feel it.

A large frame pressing up against your back, just close enough so you know it’s there. It’s warm, it’s solid, it seems to wrap all the way around you. And then a hand, ghosting over your hip, traveling inch by daring inch to rest in the center of your rib cage.

“Adam?” you whisper. It’s Adam, you’re sure. It’s Adam, your boyfriend that you love. That’s what you tell yourself as his scent surrounds you. The scent of cool peppermint, and parchment, and the plastered walls of a certain familiar stairwell.

He doesn’t answer. Not even a nod. But your fingers come to rest over his anyway, and your back pushes against his chest anyway, and you tilt your head so slightly to the side anyway, so he can bite your pretty earlobe just. like. that.

You tug his hand up over your breast, squeeze his broad grip around it and sigh when his thumb grazes over your nipple, poking out through the shiny fabric of your slip. He swipes over it again, and then again, until it’s hard and straining and you’re rolling your hips back into his groin.

He kisses your neck, at first just a tingling tease, and then a hard, deep, suck that makes your whole body throb. His left hand reaches around to rest on the bookshelf in front of you. You can just make out the shadows of the veins that run down his long, thick fingers, over his wrist, and up under the fabric of his sleeve.

Now it’s his turn to guide your right hand, still clutching your breast, down along your own side, over the sultry swell of your hip, behind your back and between your bodies. He leads your hand between his legs and along the thick, hard, hungry length the waits there, tenting the fabric of his trousers and twitching at your touch. His breath brushes your ear as you run your hand back and forth, teasing the tip and trailing all the way down the length. He lets out a breathy, shaky, drawn out “yes,” so quiet you can only hear it because his lips are pressed right up against your ear.

It sounds… enough like Sackler, you tell yourself again, and even in the confines of your own mind, you know you’re a dirty fucking liar.

The figure steps back just a bit then, pushing you forward so you’re bent at the waist and pressed up against the shelf. You hear a zip and feel the sudden chill of air on your ass as he flips your skirt up and over it.

The velvety length of his cock slides between your legs and along your panties, giving your aching cunt just enough friction. It moves back and forth and back and forth again, and your hips are canting in time, rolling with it to wring out every drop of pleasure you can. His warm hand runs up the length of your back and down again, squeezing the curve of your ass and digging his fingertips into it.

It’s just then you hear a fit of squeals erupt in the next room over, and both of you freeze. The girls must have solved the lipstick riddle. You may not have much more time.

So you rock yourself back against him again, willing him not to stop, to keep going, to give you what you need, right fucking now.

And he does.

A nimble finger pulls your panties to the side and his tip is pressing into you, sliding between your wet, swollen lips and stretching open your tight entrance. You can’t help letting out a whine, you just can’t, and thank god his hand flies up to clamp over your mouth. If only you could do the same as he pushes into you, buries himself deep inside in one long, slow, thrust, because he’s grunting louder than he should be and he’s spitting out a pleasure-heavy “fuck” and that’s not Sackler, you know it now for sure, and you don’t fucking care.

His hips pull back and push forward again, harder this time. Your knees shake and you rest your ass against his weight, letting the entire length slide way, way up inside you and back out again, in a rhythm that’s all at once frenzied, and fluid, and fucking filthy.

You’re letting out little squeaks, little moany puffs of air every time he thrusts into you. You can hardly catch your breath, and the hand over your mouth isn’t making it any easier. His left hand against the bookshelf drops down around the front of you and between your legs, resting against your clit so it presses into it with every forward thrust. You’re surrounded by him, by the way he makes your body writhe, by the sound of his own breaths through gritted teeth. You fall back against him further and further, until he’s almost entirely supporting you, canting you upward will every jolt of his hips, and you start to come all the way undone.

In one move he throws you both forward so you’re pressed flat up against the shelf, your cheek resting on the cold, smooth wood and your breasts rubbing against volumes of Chaucer and Poe and Keats. He moves the hand on your clit in circles then, buries his face in your neck, and fucks you hard and fast and furious until you’re cumming all around his cock and it’s throbbing in gratitude, pumping his sticky white seed so far inside you, you swear you can taste it.

And then he’s out.

He’s out, and he’s pulling your panties back over your pussy to catch whatever threatens to spill out. There’s another zip, and your skirt falls back down, and the sweat dripping down your back suddenly feels so cold.

Your breaths both slow down. And you don’t touch. And you don’t speak. And you’ve never been more grateful for the darkness that hides expressions neither of you want to see.

You walk to the door and rest your fingertips on the handle.

“Thank you, Adam,” you mutter, hating yourself as you do. It’s met only with a bitter scoff, and you open the door and slither out, your legs still shaking.

Adam’s in the living room with a couple of guys who look to be taking shots out of a teacup. He gives you a big smile when he sees you and waves you over.

“Where were you? I couldn’t find you,” he asks as he pulls you in by your hip. You turn your face sideways to dodge his kiss, which lands on your cheek.

“Guess it’s just a mystery.”

Adam’s all goofy smiles when everyone reconvenes in the living room. It didn’t take him long to make new friends. The volume picks up in the gathering crowd and the hostess makes her way back to the front for her big finale.

“A crime did happen on this night, but will you guess the culprit right? Let us see if you found the clues, tell us, who do you accuse?”

She shines a flashlight into your eyes and you squint against the yellow light. “What?”

The hostess drops the act, just for a moment. “Who do you think did it?” she urges you, and it wasn’t until now you remembered why you were all even here.

Through the light, you can see Charlie standing at the corner of the room, his gaze cast down to the floor. He looks up through his lashes at you, a pout painting his face.

“It was you,” you say.

The crowd shuffles a bit as they look back to him, and he reaches in his suit jacket to pull out a little red card printed with a single word: MURDERER. He flicks it to the floor and glares your way.

“Guilty.”

Hands clap on your shoulders and Sackler shakes you happily. Everyone’s cheering. The party’s over. But you can’t hear a thing.

Amid the bustling crowd you lose Charlie for a second, and like a ghost, he’s gone.

The only proof he was ever there is the lingering smell of peppermint, and the creamy white sin dripping down your thigh.

__________

Don’t mind me, just tagging some Charlie loving pals hiiiiiiii

@direnightshade @contesa-lui-alucard @babbushka @sacklerscumrag @ohdamnadam @cowboy-kylo

#tw cheating #tw infidelity #tw alchohol mention #charlie barber smut #charlie barber x reader #charlie barber x reader smut #charlie barber x you #charlie barber #also sackler is there too #tw unedited typos

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kpop---scenarios · 4 years ago

Text

Bound To You

Commissioned by: @skittlez-area512

Genre: Mafia! Arranged Marriage! AU

Warning: Smut, Launguage

Word Count: 5.7k

If you had the slightest choice of the family you were born into, you absolutely would not have picked the one you got.

Growing up your father drank, alot. He yelled constantly, always slapping your mother when she politely asked him to keep quiet as he was scaring the children.

"Fuck them kids." Was his response. Your father never told you he loved you, never told you he was proud of you for graduating top of your class in highschool despite him being such a piece of shit. As stupid as it sounded, and as much as you hated the man, you wanted the validation from him. You wanted to know if he had any kind of bond with you, even the smallest.

But that never came. The only time he was even remotely nice was when he needed something. When they were out of money and you were working so you had to support his drinking and gambling addictions, or he'd raise his hand to you. Your brother, who was 4 years older than you also still lived at home. He did his best to protect you and your mother from your father's fists but he worked a lot. He was responsible for paying the bills since your father refused to work, and wouldn't allow your mother to work, because in his mind she would cheat on him.

You hated it here, but even at the age of 23, you couldn't leave. Even when he hit you, you couldn't leave your mother alone with him. Your father would kill her. There was no doubt in your mind.

You sat on the couch, the house was quiet. You could hear your mother weeping in the kitchen, your father nowhere to be found. He had freaked out on everyone, slapping your mother before taking off out the front door.

His absence was extremely welcomed. You turn your head focusing on the show playing on the TV, when you hear yelling outside, that seemed to be coming closer. The front door of your house swung open, your dad being shoved to the floor of the entrance.

"Where is she?" A voice snaps.

"Ayn! Get over here!" Your father spits from the floor. Slowly you rise from the couch, reaching for your mother who came from the kitchen."Ayn!" He yells again.

"What?" You snap, standing above the drunk man.

"This is her." He huffs.

You look over to the large men accompanying your father, who are now looking at you carefully.

"Will he approve." A deep voice says. "Taeyang, grab her." The man says.

"Thank you! Thank you!" Your father gravels at the man's feet.

"Your debt is cleared. Do not return." He snaps, leaving To walk out the door. The other man grabs your arm tightly, Yanking you towards him following the other man of the door.

"What the hell are you doing!?" You snap, trying to fight the man off.

"You didn't warn her?" Taeyang scoffs.

"Why should I? Useless bitch." Your father laughs.

Without hesitation, the tall man swiftly kicks your father in the stomach, resulting in the sound of ribs crunching.

"Your father sold you to Kwon Jiyong, to pay off his gambling debts." He tells you. "You will marry Jiyong in one month."

"Do I not get a say!? This isn't even his life! It's mine! You can't use me as your payment!" You scream.

"I can and I did." Your father coughs. "Take her."

The man throws you over this shoulder, knowing you wouldn't go easily. You fought as hard as you could, but it didn't work. You were stuck, your fate was unknown and you were terrified. The door shut behind you, and all you could hear were the sobs and pleas of your distraught mother fading away as you're put into a van and taken away.

"Please don’t kill me." You sob. You just knew that was your fate, and absolutely something your father would do. The wedding they had mentioned earlier couldn't actually be true.

"What?" Taeyang laughs. "You're not dying."

"Although, you will probably wish you were dead." One mumbles.

"I mean you're not wrong, Daesung." Taeyang smirks.

"Enough. You know GD has microphones in here." The tall one snaps.

"Right." They both sigh.

"But I can't actually get married." You scoff.

"You are. One month." Daesung says.

"I'm only 23! I haven't even had my first love yet! I wanted to travel and do so much." You cry.

None of the three men say anything as the van pulls into a gravel driveway, stopping in front of probably the biggest house you had ever seen.

Taeyang pulls you from the back of the van, holding onto your tied hands behind you back, guiding you inside.

You walk through a grand entrance, painting littering the walls, sculptures against the walls. It smells of stale cigars and whiskey as you walk deeper into the house, passing through a nosy living room before stopping in front of a pair of grand double doors.

Daesung pushes the doors open, revealing a man standing there, his back facing you.

"She's here boss." The tall one says.

"Thank you, TOP." He snickers, turning around.

You had never seen someone as beautiful as the man who stood before you. He was wearing a dark blue suit, a neck tattoo visible. His fingers held a few rings, while his face was just.. perfect.

"She'll do." He says, smirking at you. "Take her to her room." He finishes, turning back around.

If that was who you were marrying, maybe this wouldn't be too bad.

Oh how you were so wrong.

That night he lay in your bed, in an unfamiliar room, your eyes staring at the ceiling as the events of that day flooded through your head. You wanted to know what exactly was going on and none of his men would tell you anything. They just tell you to wait for Jiyong, but when was that going to be?

Taking the initiative you get out of your bed and open the large door leading to a hallway. Quietly you sneak down the staircase heading towards the double doors you had stood in front of earlier. Taking a deep breath, you gently place your hand on the door knob Quietly turning it until you slightly pull the door open, without a sound. You peak your head inside, a gasp coming from your mouth without thinking about it.

You see a sweaty Jiyong, his hands gripped on a woman's hips as he harshly pounds into her, moans slipping from her mouth. With your eyes wide you look away, closing the door before you're caught, tiptoing back to your room, feeling quite dumb. You had wanted to talk to him, but you seem to forget what type of man he was. He's a mafia boss, the most ruthless. You needed to just stay in the shadows unless asked for or spoken too. Much like living in your parents house. Not to be seen or heard.

You fell asleep that night actually sort of missing your house, mostly just your mom.

It was a few days before you actually saw Jiyong, mostly just hangout in your room, with meals being brought to you until he returned from wherever he was.

One morning, you're woken up to the sound of clapping. It was a struggle to open your eyes, but when you did you saw Jiyong standing there, looking good in a tight fitted suit.

"Did you enjoy the show last night?" He asks, cocking his head to the side.

"I.. uh.. what?" You ask, not sure if you should just fess up to what you had witnessed.

"I know you saw. I'm asking if you enjoyed it. Yes or no, that's not a hard question to answer." He says.

You get up, swinging your legs over the edge of your bed, your head hanging low.

"Im sorry. I just had some questions. I didn't see much." You whisper.

"I have nothing to hide." He smirks. "Anyways, that's not why I'm here. I'm here because of this." He pauses, pointing up and down your body. "Is not going to work."

"Kim." He calls out. A woman walks in, her face serious as she pulls you off your bed, standing you in front of them both, before forcing off the large t-shirt you slept in that night.

You stand there, stunned as they circle you, talking to each other about what needs work and what will do.

"Hair cut and colour, make up. Body is fine. Do something with those nails." Jiyong says. "Have her ready for the engagement party. Tonight." He says, walking out of the room.

"Lets go." She says, pulling your arm towards the door.

"Um. Can I put on clothes first?" You ask, looking down at your bra and panties.

"Oh. Sure." She says, letting go.

You go to your closet, picking out the easiest thing to put on, a sundress, already dreading what the day had in store for you.

Five hours later, you tiredly walked into your room, looking at a person in the mirror you didn't even recognize. Your hair was completely different, you never actually envisioned yourself with that colour. Your skin was glowing after being pummeled and smoothed, the smell you radiated reminded you of a bakery your mother used to take you too.

The glow you had was hard to miss, but you kind of liked it. You smiled at yourself, but we're almost blinded by the whiteness of your teeth, it was almost too much. Your stomach drops, you don't know who this person standing before you is. You try anything to make yourself feel like yourself, but it doesn't work. This was your life now. You had appearances to keep up, better get used to it now.

You hear a knock at your door before it opens immediately after. "Miss." A man calls out. "You have 20 minutes until it's time to go." He says, making you remember that tonight was the night you announce your engagement to everyone Jiyong knows.

With a forced smile on your face you slip into the strapless dark satin dress that hugged your curves, as well as showed off your legs with a long slit up the sides. You stared at yourself in the mirror, in a dress that was the most flattering thing you had ever seen yourself in. You may not know who you were, but damn you looked good.

You slid on your heels, strapping them on before heading out the door, meeting one of Jiyong's men outside your door.

"He's waiting at the bottom of the stairs." He tells you.

Without a word, you take a step down, heading towards your fiance that you knew nothing about.

You see him standing there, adjusting the cuffs of his suit before looking up, a small smile crossing his face before it goes back straight.

"That looks much better. You look good." He says, walking away leaving you trailing behind him.

"Thanks." You whisper, rolling your eyes.

The entire car ride to the party was spent with Jiyong telling you what not to say, so when you finally pulled up to the venue, you were more than ready to get out and talk to anyone else. But before you could go in, he handed you a beautiful and large diamond ring to slide onto your ring finger for your engagement ring.

You walked into the grand building, everything was so elegant. Waiters circled the floor with the most expensive champagne, waitresses with finger foods, the ceiling sparkled from the chandelier and the lights, gentle music played in the corner of the room.

It truly was beautiful.

However, you didn't get to take a lot of time to take it all in. Within seconds there were people coming up to you and Jiyong, introducing themselves, asking to see your ring and how the wedding planning was going. It was all a lot to take in.

"Excuse me." You smile at the people who circled you and Jiyong, whispering in his ear that you were going to go to the bathroom.

You needed a few minutes to yourself, to calm down and ease your anxiety. This was just a lot.

When you finished in the bathroom, you were making your way back to Jiyong when you were stopped by a man.

"Hello there beautiful." He says, stepping in front of you.

"Hello." You respond with a small smile.

"My my my, just how did Mr. Kwon pull someone like you?" He asks.

"I'm sorry?"

"I just want to know how he managed to get someone like you? You look like you'd be a much better fit for someone like, oh I don't know, me." He smirks, reaching over to touch your arm.

"Isn't that a shame, Jackson that she is in fact mine, and not yours." Jiyong spits, walking over to stand beside you. He effortlessly slides his arm around your waist, pulling you in close.

"Ahh, I suppose. But she could be mine. If she so chose." Jackson winks.

"I'll pass." You smile. "I'm happy where I am."

"You sure, sweetheart? I could make you happier." He offers.

"I don't think you could." You say, turning your head to give Jiyong a kiss on the cheek.

"I believe the lady has spoken." Jiyong says, clearing his throat. He had not been expecting that from you, but he liked it.

You give Jackson a small smile before Jiyong guides you away, placing his glass down on the bar before you and he exited the building before getting in his car. The ride was silent, you spent most of it playing with your fingers with your head down, not knowing what you should say or if you should say anything. Jiyong kept one hand locked on the steering wheel, staring straight at the road, but the one thing you noticed was that his knuckles were white as he gripped the wheel hard. Something had made him mad, but what?

When the two of you arrived back at the house, Jiyong stormed from the car and towards the house before stopping in his tracks.

"Don't get it twisted." He began. "I don't fucking want you, but you're still mine and I don't share." He spits before going into the house, heading to his office and slamming the door. You stood outside the door for a few minutes, debating on whether you should knock or not when you heard him yelling.

"Don't you ever disrespect me like that again!" You hear him yell. "I'll pull all my fucking connections from your crew Jackson, don't fucking test me." He snaps before slamming down the phone.

Over the next few days, you had spent your time wandering around, reading, watching shows, but also getting close to some of his men. Specifically Taeyang and Daesung. They made you laugh so often, sometimes you'd catch Jiyong staring at you as you laughed, or watching you when you walked past him. You tried not to over analyze it but your brain couldn't help it. This was the man you now had to spend your life with, you wanted him to feel something, anything.

The night before the wedding, you couldn't sleep. You were terrified to get married to a mafia leader, especially one as terrifying as Jiyong. You had heard the rumors of what he had done and what he was capable of and part of you was scared that if you did anything to make him mad, he would make you disappear.

Tired of tossing and turning, you got out of your bed, going to look at the backyard that had been set up for your wedding. The lights, the flowers, decorations, the way the chairs were set up, everything looked beautiful. If you had been marrying a man you loved you would have felt giddy and excited for this but instead you were nervous.

"Looks good, doesn't it?" You hear from behind you.

Turning your head, you see Daesung standing there, with his arms crossed.

"It's beautiful." You whisper.

"You should get some sleep. You've got a long day tomorrow." He says, nodding his head towards the door.

"I know." You sigh, heading back in with him trailing you.

"Try to get some sleep." He says, standing at the bottom of the stairs, right across from Jiyong's office. Before you could say anything or go upstairs, you hear a female giggle from inside his office.

"Aren't you getting married tomorrow?" You hear the girl ask.

"Yeah, but it's strictly for business. Bitch means nothing to me." You hear Jiyong say before the woman giggles again.

"Ayn.." Daesung starts but you don't stick around yo hear anymore. You run up the stairs, slamming the door to your room before crawling into your bed.

This life was going to be hell.

You fought back tears the entire day of your wedding. You held them back while your shitty father walked you down the aisle to the man who wanted nothing to do with you.

You held them back as you were announced man and wife by the minister, and Jiyong pulled you in for a kiss while everyone cheered.

You held them back as the DJ announced Mr. And Mrs. Kwon Jiyong, and your first dance as a married couple.

You barely touched your food, your smile was forced during pictures, especially the ones with Jiyong. You knew you could see the sadness and hurt in your eyes but everyone chose to ignore it.

"What's your issue?" Your father asks during the forced father and daughter dance.

"I didn't want this." You growl through your teeth.

"Be grateful anyone wants you, but especially a man like him? You should be worshipping me for doing this for you." He spits.

"Im in this shitty situation because of you! Like hell I'd ever thank you."

"Ungrateful little fucking brat." Your father sneers.

"Im done." You say, ripping your hands from his grip before walking away, even though you still had more than half the song to go.

"You okay?" Daesung asks, sitting beside you at your table while Jiyong mingled.

"I guess. Shitty husband, shitty father, shitty life. It is what it is." You sigh, watching Jiyong walk over to you with a smile and his hand held out for you, wanting you to dance.

"My wife." He smiles. You force a smile, placing your hand in his, letting him lead you to the dance floor but you knew it was just for appearances. On what should be your special wedding night, you knew he would likely end up with his dick in someone else, like usual.

As the night came to an end, you were exhausted as you crawled into your new bed. Now that you were married you had to keep up appearances, according to Jiyong. He has moved you into his room now, incase of any surprise visits or anything. Nothing could look suspicious, or not like the two of you weren't actually married.

As you rolled over to face the wall, you felt the bed dip beside you. Honestly, you had expected him to work in his office or do whatever, but definitely not come to bed.

When you woke up the next morning, he was gone, not really a surprise to you. However, what was a surprise was that for the next week, he ended up in bed with you either when you went to bed or a little bit later. He never said anything to you, just crawled in and went to sleep but a part of you liked it. You enjoyed having someone to sleep next too.

A few weeks later, you said good night to Taeyang and Daesung, giving Jiyong a small smile before heading for the stairs. Your heart fluttered when you looked at him. As much as you tried to stop it, you fell for him and you hated yourself for doing so. It was a little earlier than you normally went to bed but you were bored.

"Wait." Jiyong calls out. "Where are you going?" He asks. "Not to bed right?"

"Um, well yeah, I was planning on going to bed." You say, avoiding eye contact.

"We have that opening. You have to get ready." He says.

Fuck. Taeyang had told you about it weeks ago and it had totally slipped your mind. "Right." You sigh. "I'll get ready quickly." You say, running up the stairs.

You finished your makeup in record time, opting for a subtle but dark look to go along with your short dark dress with a slit up the side. You quickly slip on a pair of heels before descending down the staircase where you hear a small "wow" slip from Jiyongs lips. A smile quickly washes over you before it disappears, not wanting him to know you heard that.

You walk with Jiyong to the car, where he opens the door for you, allowing you to slide in before he goes around to the drivers side, taking off quickly.

"I have a meeting when we get there at first." He explains. "Say your name at the bar and he won't charge you, just hangout for a bit until I'm done and then I'll come get you." He says, giving you a small smile.

You nod your head, letting him know you understand as your stomach fills with butterflies.

Jiyong gives you a small wave as he walks away from you, leaving you in a crowded club by yourself. You walk over to the bar, ordering a few shots before giving him your name.

"Under Kwon Ayn." You say, slightly enjoying the look of terror on his face when he realized who your husband was.

The man gave you your four shots of tequila, which you took all in a row, standing there for a minute while the liquor worked its magic. Just as you felt it kick in, one of your favorite songs began playing, drawing you out to the dance floor. Without any hesitation you walked to the dance floor and began moving your hips, swaying to the beat of the song.

It didn't take long for you tk feel a pair of hands grip your hips and someone to push themselves against you. Honestly, you had thought it was Jiyong, but when you leaned your head back and you saw it was a man you had never seen before. You felt your body tense up as you tried to move away from him but his grip tightened, not letting you leave.

"What's the rush, baby?" He whispers in your ear. Maybe it was the tequila, or maybe it was the fact that your husband didn't want you, but it felt nice to be touched, to be wanted. You wanted someone, you had needs too that weren't being met.

You turned around, sliding your arms around his neck, whispering in his ear. "Im Ayn."

"Suho." He beams, pulling you in closer.

For the next few minutes, you couldn't help the giant smile that was plastered on your face as you and Suho danced, while he whispered in your ear. It felt nice to have someone be close with you and make you feel things and want you. You were tired of your one sided love, it was nice to have some sort of feeling returned.

It was nice while it lasted. You happened to look up, the smile on your face fading as you saw Jiyong staring at you with Suho, his fists squeezed into balls at his sides while his face looked right pissed.

You quickly try to pull away from Suho but he just laughs, and pulls you in closer. Your eyes widen as you watch Jiyong walk down the stairs, pushing his way through the crowd until he stands behind Suho. He taps him on the shoulder, and Suho turns around. When he does, Jiyong's fist immediately connects with Suho's face, knocking him to the ground.

"Get your fucking hands off my wife." He spits, grabbing your wrist, pulling you towards the bathroom.

Jiyong pulls you into the men's bathroom, closing the door behind you. "What the fuck was that?" He spits.

"It was nice to be touched." You say, shrugging your shoulders. "A girl has needs too, you know." You say, that fucking tequila making you braver than you've ever been.

"And what kind of needs do you have?" He asks, walking closer to you until you're pinned against the door.

"I need to be touched, and wanted.. fucked." You breathe, Jiyong's face inches closer to yours. His hands reach down to touch your thighs, slipping his fingers under your dress as you spread your legs slightly for him.

“Touched like this?" He asks, gliding his fingers across your clothed pussy.

You shudder at the feeling, your knees buckling. Jiyong grabs your hand, bringing you to the counter where he puts his hands on your hips, helping you hop onto the counter. Uoj spread your legs causing your dress to ride up. He pulls you closer to the edge before moving your dress up fully and out of his way as he groans at the sight of your already dripping pussy.

Jiyong spreads your lips with his fingers, leaning forward to give you a few kitten licks on your clit, just light enough to tease the fuck out of you.

You let out a small gasp. "More. Please" you beg. The second those words left your mouth, Jiyong quickly dived in, licking you all the way up with the flat of his tongue, moving it up and down. Your hands grip the edge of the counter tightly, your knuckles turning white. Jiyong's hands hold onto your thighs as he suctions his lips directly around your clit, sucking harshly, making you grind yourself on hks face.

"I'm.. shit. I'm gonna cum." You cry, circling your hips as your orgasm washes through your body.

“This is going to have to be quick baby" Jiyong smirks, standing up and unbuckling his belt, while you have a few seconds to recover. He slides down his pants just enough to allow his cock to spring free. Your mouth waters at the sight of it, his thick, large cock dripping pre cum already.

“Please fuck me." You groan, spreading your legs more. Jiyong lines himself up with your entrance, ramming his cock inside of you, making you scream. He quickly pulls back out and thrusts back in, giving you no time to adjust to jis large size.

"Yeah baby, let everyone know you're mine. Who's making you scream." He grunts as he thrusts himself in and out of you.

Jiyong had himself angled at the perfect position to be able to have your clit rub up against him as he fucked you on the counter. Your tits had fallen out of your strapless dress, making Jiyong lean forward, taking one in his mouth, sucking on it while never slowing his pace.

“You gonna cum again?" he breathes. His words build your orgasm, the knot getting tighter and tighter with every harsh thrust.

“Fuck." You cry out, grabbing onto your breast, squeezing as your eyes roll back into your head, the sensation of your second orgasm overwhelming.

“Cum in my pussy." You cry out, wanting to feel him fill you up with his juice.

Second later, Jiyong grunts as he releases himself into you, coating your walls with his cum. He pulls himself out of you, pulling his pants up before helping you off the counter.

"Let's get you home and clean up." He murmurs, taking your hand and leading you through the club where you tried to avoid many looks from people who definitely knew what you had just done in there.

The ride home was quiet. You had a million things you wanted to ask hkm, like what did that mean but you chose to stay silent. You didn't want to ruin the high of your very good mood, in case the conversation didn't go the way you were hoping it would.

After you got home and took a shower, you crawled into bed next to Jiyong who was facing your way instead of out into the room. You laid down, facing him, your eye closed, not wanting to look at him.

"Listen.." je begins. You open your eyes.

"I get it. You don't have to say anything. That was a one time thing. It's fine." You whisper.

"What? Why do you think it's only a one time thing?" He asks.

"I overheard you the night before our wedding." You breathe. "Bitch means nothing to me." You quote.

"That was then. This is now. Over the last few weeks of watching you, being near you, your energy, your smile, everything about you, I'm falling. Hard." He tells you. "Look at me."

You open your eyes, looming into jis pleading eyes. He wants you to believe him, to see that he's telling you the truth.

"I am too." You whisper, a smile creeping up on your face.

That night you fell asleep embraced in Jiyong's arms, finally everything felt like it was going to be okay. But that's just life isn't it? Making you believe things are finally working out when in reality, everything is about to fall apart.

The next morning you woke up and stretched while Jiyong's hold on you tightened.

"Good morning." You whisper.

"Mhmm." He answers, reaching under your shirt to cup your breast. "Yes it is."

You stick out your ass into his crotch, his hard cock poking you. "Tease." He moans.

"Me? I never." You gasp, wiggling from his grip. You roll him onto his back, pull the covers from jkm before you pull his boxers down and you allow his morning wood to spring free.

You move yourself between his legs, gripping his shaft with your one hand before opening your mouth and wrapping it afound hks cocm.

"Oh god." He moans, his hands resting behind his head.

You bob your head up and down, sucking harshly while also moving your tongue around the tip of his cock, making him moan.

"Fuck that feels amazing." He groans as you cup his balls, gently playing with them.

You force yourself down as far as you can, his cock sliding down your throat. "Please ride me." He moans, bucking his hips.

You let go of his cocm with a pop, getting up and standing over him. You bunch up the bottom of your shirt, as you lower yourself down, sinking down onto his cock.

"Oh my god." You cry as he stretches you out. Without any hesitation you begin bouncing on his cock, your hands resting on his chest. He brings his hands to your sides, moving your hips to go back and forward.

"Shit baby." He groans, moving you faster on his cock. You slow down the pace, dragging yourself against him, rubbing your clit against him, building your orgasm faster.

You lean yourself forward, bouncing hard on him, craving orgasm, needing to feel it spread through your body again.

"Cum for me." He moans, his hands still on your hips, now helping you move faster.

"I'm gonna.." you begin before your orgasm hits, making your body shudder as your eyes roll bzcl. Jiyong keeps his hands on your hips, keeling your bouncing on his cock as he chases his orgasm while you ride through your high.

"That's it baby." He grunts, moving you faster. "Just like that.. just like.. ahhh." Hr yells out, his cum spitting inside of you.

"Shower?" He asks, helping you slide off his cock. A small giggle escapes from your lips as you nod your head, making your way to the shower before him.

A few hours later while Jiyong, Taeyang and Daesung had business to attend to, you relaxed on the couch with a good book when your cell phone rang. Looking at the contact you saw it was your mother and you knew she never called unless it was an emergency.

"Hello?" You answer.

"Ayn.. please.. help." She whispers into the phone sounding terrified. "Please." She begs before the line goes dead.

Without a second thought you snuck into Jiyong's office and grabbed the first pair of keys you saw, before speaking to the garage without alerting T.O.P. You couldng risk him coming along and something happening. You got in the car and started it before opening the garage door, speeding out of there as soon as you could, leaving T.O.P behind who had pulled out his phone, no doubt to call Jiyong.

Forty-five minutes later you made it to your old house, taking the keys from the car you quickly ran inside the house, which was far too quiet for your liking.

"Mom?" You call out.

You can hear her whimpering from the kitchen. You go there and see her huddled on the floor, her head in her hands.

"Mom. Are you okay?" You ask, walking towards her.

"Im sorry Ayn.. i'm so sorry." She whispers.

"Sorry for what.." before you can complete your sentence you are grabbed from behind, and taken outside by two men you had never seen. You see your father standing there, a smile on his face.

"What the hell!" You yell trying to struggle out of the grip of the men.

"You are his now." Your father says. "He paid me a lot of money for you." He chuckles.

"What? You already gave me to Jiyong to settle your debt." You say.

"Yes and now he wants you and already paid a large sum, so you're his." He says.

"Who is he!? Let me go!" You yell.

"Hello beautiful." You hear. Looking up you see Suho standing there with his head cocked to the side and a smile on his face.

"You." You breathe. "Please let me go." You beg.

"Nah. I wasn't too impressed with your husband last night and now your father has so graciously sold you to me. So you're mine now." He smirks, nodding his head to the side. The men who were holding you, take you to the van, tossing you in there without a care while your father ignores your pleas for help and walks back into his house. The van drives off, leaving you crying, banging on the window begging for someone to save you, hoping Jiyong would save you.

#kwon jiyong smut #jiyong fanfic #jiyong scenarios #jiyong smut #jiyong mafia #mafia au #big bang mafia #big bang fanfic #g dragon #g dragon smut #g dragon mafia #kpop fanfic #kpop #kpop scenarios #kpop icons #kpop writing #kpop imagines

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camillemonty · 4 years ago

Text

Crush

JJ x Reader|kook

Summary: You just moved to outer banks and you are not so thrilled about your new kook life as your parents and are curious about how your summer will be.

As the summer goes on surprises come along with ups and downs, tears and laughter, new friends and family.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4 (part 1)

Chapter 4 - Friends and Breakups (part 2)

From the distance JJ was watching you, still trying to figure out what he will do to get into a fight with Liam, of course, he could just walk over there and flirt with you in his face, but he wanted to fight only him, not the whole gang, and Liam was always with them.

“Hey” a familiar voice called him.

“John B” he turned around.

“What are you thinking about?” he questioned.

“Nothing”

“I don’t believe you” he laughed, getting in front of him.

“What’s so funny?”

“Well maybe that there’s a touron giving you “a nasty look” as you would say” he nods at her “but you are too concentrated in the kooks that you haven’t noticed her”

“First of all is “a naughty look” and second of all I’m not concentrated in the kooks I was just looking in the distance” JJ said.

“I thought you were a good liar JJ”

“I am”

“So you weren’t looking at y/n?” John B asked.

“What? No” JJ lied.

“Because I saw you have fun with her at beer pong” he shrugged his shoulders.

“Yeah, I played with her so…?”

“And I haven’t seen you make your way with the tourons like you always do” John B kept teasing.

JJ rolled his eyes, but he knew it was true “Tell me where this girl is”

John B laughed and pointed him the girl, JJ already making his way towards her.

“If I’m not going to get him to fight me I won’t waste this night” JJ thought.

The night continued and so did the party, you had stopped drinking a while ago, after some shots with Kelce and a couple of beers, you felt sick, about to throw up but Lane took you and gave you water, still don’t know where she got water in here.

“Thanks” you said “you are such a good friend” Lane laughed at you “really I mean it”

“I know I know” she said.

“Where is Liam?”

“Uhh I don’t know I saw him go with Rafe somewhere” she had a weird look in her eyes “c’mon let’s go”

You stood up without tripping this time “See? I’m better”

You walked with her towards the group, they were all laughing. You looked around and realized that a bunch of bonfires were on, giving the beach a comfy look, the reddish lights reflecting on each face, laughs everywhere, music in the back, people dancing, even in the water.

You were talking about midsummer when Rafe arrived.

“Hey Rafe where’s Liam?” you asked him when you got to his side.

“Uh I don’t know” he said.

“I thought he was with you”

“He was, maybe he went for some beer”

“Oh ok…” you turned around and meet with Lane's eyes, the same weird look in her eyes, she knew something you were sure. “ok what’s going on? You stood in front of her.

“What?” she sounded confused.

“You have been giving me that weird look since your home every time that I talk about Liam” she sighs “I might be drunk but I’m not stupid” she didn’t speak “are you going to tell me?”

“He went over there” she pointed at some trees in the distance that was close to the cars.

You didn’t say anything and made your way there and just when you were about to go through the trees you hear him laugh.

“C’mon you know I want you” he said.

“It doesn’t seem like it” your eyes widened at her voice.

“Come here” he said, you heard them kiss.

“You haven’t broken up with her” she whined.

“I know but I promise I’ll do it after midsummer”

You felt your heart sink, anger growing in your chest, all the alcohol seemed to be gone, your head and thoughts clear, you got to the other side of the trees in silence and when you saw them kissing you couldn’t stop yourself.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” the shout came from the trees, making everyone turn around.

JJ saw you storming out of the trees, followed by Liam and Rebecca.

“y/n wait” said Liam “I can…”

“What? You can explain?” your voice still loud.

Everyone was watching, JJ couldn’t help to feel happy, he wanted to fight him, but you fighting him was even better.

“It’s not what it looks like”

“Are you fucking serious?” you screamed “I saw you kissing her” you pointed at Rebecca.

“Yeah but…”

“And you had the nerve to yell at me the other day telling me that I was going to cheat on you with the blondie” you shouted.

JJ's eyes widened immediately, glances already all over him.

“Fuck y/n let me explain” he tried again and grabbed your wrist.

“Don’t fucking touch me” you pulled your arm out of his touch, you saw Lane out of the corner of your eye and turned to her “and you knew it” you weren’t mad with her, just disappointed, she couldn’t stand your glare and looked at her shoes.

You turned around giving Liam your back and walking away from him.

“Y/n wait” he called again and grabbed your arm “let’s talk”

“Get off me” you pulled your arm but he holds you tighter “let me go”

“No” he said, so you did the only thing you could think about and slapped him.

Sighs of surprise came out of everyone when your hand crushed on his check. He let your arm go and without looking back you walked away, where the shadows touched the sand and no one could see you.

JJ couldn't stop himself from following you, even if people were looking at him, he took the curve where you disappeared and saw you, muttering stuff, grabbing rocks and logs, and throwing them away in the water. He saw you vent all your anger until you finally sat in the sand, your back leaning against a huge log, and your fingers tugging at the root of your hair. You hid your face in between your knees and hugged your legs, letting a sob escape from your lips. He waited in the distance not wanting to interrupt your crying until he didn't saw you sob anymore. He comes closer hands in his pockets.

"You ok?" He was behind you.

You jumped in surprise and raised your head "hey..." Your eyes looking at the sand in front of you "yeah I'm ok"

He sat on the log, next to you "you made a hell of a scene back there"

You chuckled wiping the tears off your face "yeah I did"

Silence falls between both of you, being the waves and the people talking in the distance the only noise. JJ flicked the lighter in his fingers and lighted on the joint in between his lips. You saw him breathe out the smoke; head leaned back when he catches your eyes looking.

He offered you the joint without saying anything; you took it and placed it on your lips taking a huge drag of it. JJ smiled he thought you'll reject it. With your eyes closed, you inhaled the smoke and let it slip out of your mouth.

"Didn't think of you as a stoner" he teased.

"I'm not" you laughed.

"Nothing to be ashamed of, princess, I can see it not your first time"

You rolled your eyes by the nickname "second time"

"I knew it" he chuckled quietly " it's JJ, by the way," he said after a while, you looked at him, confused "I heard you called me Blondie”

"Oh," you said "bold of you to assume it was you" you teased.

He laughed "I notice the way he saw me the other day at the ice cream store so yeah I assumed it"

"Oh yeah," you recall it "well I'm y/n" you offered him your hand, he shakes it letting a chuckle escape from his lips.

"I knew that" he said with a smirk on his face, making you blush. "Can I ask you something?" You nodded "the cut in your lip was truly a door?"

You settled in the sand, uncomfortable by his question "yeah I told you... I didn't saw the door"

JJ nodded, sure he wasn't expecting for you to tell him your boyfriend hit you, but the way the lie slipped through your lips so easily made him think that wasn't the first time he did it.

With his last drag to the cigarette he stood up "I'm going back" he said.

You nodded "I'm going in a minute"

He nodded back and walked away.

You saw him as he disappeared in the distance; looking now at the water you closed your eyes and let out a huge sigh; you rubbed your eyes and your face and got up the sand. You knew that turning back meant that you had to confront Liam, but if you had to break up with him better here than in the solitude of your house, who knows what he would do. You made your way to the Boneyard again, the party continues as nothing happened, the first eyes you met with were Lane’s, you looked away still hurt by her. You saw the keg beer in the distance.

“If going to go through this, better do it drunk” you tell to yourself and walked over it.

“Hey are you ok?” you heard Sarah, after your third cup of beer, worry in her eyes.

“Yeah I’m ok” you smile at her, filling up another cup.

“He’s an asshole” Kie stated “you are way prettier than Rebecca”

“What a bitch” muttered Sarah.

You laughed “thanks” the fact that they were supporting you even when you only have been with them once warmed your heart.

“Do you want to come to sit with us?” offered Sarah pointing at the boys that were seated in front of a bonfire with other people.

“I wish but I have to find Liam and break up with him before he thinks it was just a fight” you rolled your eyes.

“Oh got you” she replied.

“Well you know where we are” said Kie with a smile on her face, you nodded and smiled back, before turning around to find Liam.

You finished the beer and saw him in the distance, talking with Tooper and the others, you let out a deep breath, preparing yourself, and walked towards him. Liam was in his back so the one that saw you first was Rafe, he told him something; Liam turned over and did the rest of the walk for you.

“Y/n” he said when he got to you.

“Liam” you replied, he looked at you and you took his silence as a sign to continue “I think it’s obvious but just so it’s clear… I’m breaking up with you”

“What?” surprise and shock in his voice.

“It’s over Liam, so don’t bother to come to my house” you tried to walk away but he grabbed your wrist.

"You can't be fucking serious" he snorted.

"Yes I fucking can Liam" you pulled your arm out of his grip.

“But we are supposed to go together to midsummer”

“No we are not supposed to, and I’m sure you will find a date quickly enough, don’t worry” you rolled your eyes.

“What will I say to your dad then? I told him I would take you"

“Well you should have thought on that before cheating on me” you hissed “anyway, we are over just understand that” you turned around and started to walk away.

“This isn’t over Y/n” he said loudly.

You ignored him, walking away from the beach towards the street.

“y/n” Lane called you “wait” she was running, you turned back to see her “where are you going?”

“Uh… home” you replied.

“Walking?” she asked, you nodded “I’ll take you”

“No don’t worry” you shook your head “I don’t want to ruin you the party”

“Y/n I will take you home, we have to talk” she looked you in the eyes “c’mon”

You got into the car, dead silence the first five minutes of the ride.

“Y/n…” she started.

“There’s no need for that Lane, really” you interrupted her “I get it, you were her friend first”

“I went to your house today because I wanted to tell you” she continued “I just couldn’t, I was having such a great time with you, I didn’t wanted to ruin it” you didn’t say anything “and I know that’s not fair, but really I wanted to tell you after the day we went shopping, and I get if you want to be mad with me and not talk to me anymore…”

“Wait” you stopped her “since we went shopping?” you questioned, she nodded “so since when are they doing this?”

“Y/n…”

“Since when?” you asked again.

“It all started before you arrived” she said, her words making your heart shrink.

“Oh my god” you sigh and felt your eyes full of tears again “It’s all have been a joke to him since I arrived” tears dripping down your checks “I knew I wasn’t sure I loved him but fuck…” you sob, leaning your head against the seat.

“I’m so sorry y/n” she said, her voice broken “I didn’t know he had a girlfriend, he didn’t say anything, I find it out at the Kegger the other day, when I saw you two arrived I thought you were just another one, but then Rebecca told me you were his girlfriend and that’s when I got it” you kept sobbing in the chair next to her “I’m sorry”

“He hit me,” you said out of the blue.

“What?” Lane turned her head towards you for a second.

“He hit me the other day, that’s what happened to my lip” you confessed, feeling a weight disappearing from your shoulders and chest.

“Oh my god”

Those were the last words between you two until she parked in front of your house.

“Thanks” you said as the car stops.

“Anytime” she replied “I’m sorry” she said again “but I really hope that we can still be friends and go for the dress hunting and have fun together and go to midsummer and…” she started to ramble on but you stopped her with a hug; she was surprised at first but hugged you back immediately.

“I’ll text you in a few days” you pulled her away and smiled. She smiled back.

_______________________________________________________

Here's Part 2, hope you liked it.

Feedback is always appreciated 💕

Taglist: @pink-meringues @victoria-a567 @indeedtryingforstraykids @slytherin-chaser @magicwithaknife @princessmugglecup @hannahhistorian92 @5am-cigarette @alinashawn

Let me know if you want to be tagged :)

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babyybitchhhwrites · 4 years ago

Text

Shikaku x Reader 18+

Title: Bound

Words: 6110

Rating: Explicit/R-18+

Warnings: Cheating,extramarital affairs, older man/younger woman, boss/employee relationship, light bondage, oral sex, office sex

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25721392

♥♥♥♥

Shikaku was halfway through the door with a neat stack of papers under his arm and a steaming mug in hand when he looked up and saw you sitting on his desk. He gave the faintest jolt of surprise, catching himself just a moment too late to stop the impulse altogether. The quiet splatter of coffee hitting the hardwood floor resounded off the walls, making you smile, and he pinned you with an unamused scowl in response.

“Should I even ask what you’re doing here at this hour?” He grumped.

You made a show of crossing your legs, one over the other with your knee propped skyward. His gaze didn’t so much as falter when it caused the hem of your skirt to ride higher up the plush swell of your thigh and you couldn’t help thinking that was very gentlemanly of him.

“I’m sure it will please you to know I’m here for a very good reason.” You quipped, watching him maneuver around the spill. “Unless of course you don’t want to hear my report while it's still fresh in my mind.”

“Still fresh, huh?” Humming distractedly, Shikaku crossed the room to stand in front of the desk where he methodically started depositing his items onto the smooth oak surface. Coffee first, in the exact same spot he always put it as evidenced by the barely noticeable water stain circles he discreetly covered up with the mug, and then his paperwork which he took the time to casually straighten before stepping around to the other side.

It was as if you weren’t even sitting there, looking for all the world like a queen on her stately throne, and you twisted to peer over your shoulder when he stooped to pull out some napkins from a bottom drawer. He gave off the impression of a man comfortably alone when he shuffled back the way he’d just come to clean the mess you’d (inadvertently) caused which might have otherwise perturbed you but in this case, it didn’t. Not when he was the one pointedly acting like you didn’t even exist.

Taking the opportunity, you appreciatively studied Shikaku’s trim figure as he knelt to mop up the coffee before it could seep in and make the wood permanently sticky. He didn’t look like much of a threat at first glance but, to be fair, none of the Nara really did. It was no doubt a hard lesson many enemy nin have had to come to terms with in their final moments alive and you couldn’t say you envied them very much. This was the one person you’d never want to find yourself facing off against on the battlefield.

Even someone as infamously horrible as Orochimaru was preferable to the Jounin commander. That shadow binding technique of his was bad enough on its own but, taking into consideration all the mind games he could torture you with before finally delivering the killiing blow, there was no way you’d ever willingly go up against him. Such hubris would have been the very definition of a fool's errand.

He stood then, not quite snapping you out of your thoughtful haze all the way, and you numbly watched as he walked over to deposit the soggy napkins into a trash bin in the corner. Tracing his steps back to the door again, he pulled it shut and reached for the lock. Your brows quirked up at the click of the bolt echoing through the room.

“If you’d wanted to give a fresh report,” Shikaku intoned, turning to face you again. “I think you would have swung by my office when you first returned from the mission. Not hours later.”

You offered him a sheepish little grin, valiantly fighting down the swelling butterflies in your stomach. “You knew when I got back?”

“There isn’t much in this village that escapes my notice. I’d suggest keeping that in mind.”

The note of warning in his gruff voice did not fly under your radar but any bite it may have held seemed to dampen when you caught the roguish curve of his mouth. He was merely teasing you in his own peculiar way. It didn’t exactly seem light and playful unless you were intimately familiar with the man and you imagined not many people ever got to see this side of him - and if they did, his intentions were always undoubtedly misconstrued. Everyone seemed to be under the impression that Shikaku was a no nonsense hard ass but you knew better.

Uncrossing your legs in favor of swinging them over the side of the desk, you cocked your head to one side when he moved to step across the room again. “So you didn’t ask the other Jounin to keep an eye on me then? Consider me hurt, commander.”

He snorted a good natured laugh. “If I did ask them to keep tabs on you, it wouldn’t be for the reason you’re thinking. Nice try, though.”

You turned to watch your boss lower himself into the chair behind the desk, curiosity piqued. “What other reason could there possibly be, Shikaku-taicho?”

A sharp brow quirked in your direction at that question. “Do you want an alphabetized list or should I give it to you in ascending order? You’re trouble, sweetheart. You know that.”

Excited heat crept across your face before you could stop it. “You like it though.”

“There are a lot of things in this world that I like,” Shikaku sighed, dropping his gaze to the topmost sheet of paper in the stack. “But I can’t say trouble is one of them.”

“Liar.”

Dark, pinpoint eyes slowly lifted to meet your gaze. He regarded you for a long, contemplative moment before dropping the expenditure form he’d picked up back to the top of the pile. Reclining into the chair with a quiet creak, he brought his hands together and laced long, elegant fingers over his stomach. You held your breath and squeezed your thighs together in anticipation, waiting for the pin to drop.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had a woman call me that before. Least of all one who’s half my age and working directly under me.”

Pussy fluttering at the unmistakable suggestion, you drew a steadying breath. “I’d like to be under you right now.”

A low chuckle rumbled up from deep within his chest. “What did I just tell you? Trouble.”

“Is that permission to proceed?”

Shikaku glanced at the stack of paperwork again and slowly shook his head. “As tempting as that is …”

Pausing, he turned his head and sent a casually appraising look over the meat of your thighs. The plump swell of your ass perched on the edge of his desk. The fact he didn’t even try to conceal his interest made goosebumps erupt across your body and you attentively sat up a little straighter, showing him that he had your full attention.

“As tempting as you are in that tight little skirt, which I’m sure you didn’t put on just to pay me a visit, I have a lot of work to finish up here. I do have to get home at some point, you know.”

A tinge of jealousy flashed through you, smothering your arousal by some margin. “Is your wife expecting you?”

He nodded almost imperceptibly. “I promised I’d help with Shikamaru tonight. He’s got an ear infection and if you thought he was whiny with a clean bill of health, you’d want to tear your own hair out now. The kid hasn’t stopped crying since yesterday morning.”

“Poor baby.” You cooed, faintly smiling at the thought of the pouty little boy that looked so much like his father. He had the same sharp features and smooth jaw structure that Shikaku did but Yoshino’s big, doe-like eyes. You wondered, not for the first time, what he would’ve looked like with yours. “I hope he makes a speedy recovery. You deserve to relax when you’re at home.”

Shikaku laughed, very softly. “I’m sure you’d rather have me relaxing with you.”

“I can’t deny that.” You admitted, sliding down off the desk to stand on your feet. “But it is what it is. You’ve got your obligations and I’ve got mine. Nothing we can do about it now.”

“And what obligations do you have?” He chortled.

You spun around to face him, allowing a sly smirk to play at your lips as you rounded the corner of the desk. “I’ve got plenty and I’ll have you know they’re all very important.”

“Would you care to humor me with an example then?”

Leaning down, you gripped the stiff armrest and used it as leverage to swivel him around to face you. Shikaku permitted it, unsurprisingly. He looked more curious than anything else and when you placed your palms on his bent knees, his expression shifted towards wry amusement.

“If you’re trying to persuade me into giving you what you want, it’s not going to work. I made a promise.”

“I know.” You murmured, trying to pretend like the ache in your chest was imagined and not real. There was nothing you wouldn’t give the man sitting before you though, even if it meant ignoring your own feelings, and you slowly lowered yourself to kneel on the floor between his legs. “All I want is to help you however I can, Shikaku. You can still do your paperwork while I do this, can’t you?”

You could clearly see the war waging behind his eyes. It wasn’t hard to miss. He was sifting through an assortment of conflicting emotions, torn between his commitment to an arranged marriage you suspected he’d never wanted in the first place and what his heart yearned for. There was a family at home waiting for him; a toddler he’d give his own life for in a heartbeat and a wife he’d do the same for because duty demanded it. And then there was you. Right in front of him, ready and waiting. Willing to give him whatever he might ask of you without expecting anything in return except some of his time.

It wasn’t exactly fair to him, making him choose like this. But it wasn’t fair to you either. Maybe you should have never gotten involved with a married man like Shikaku in the first place but it was much too late for that now. You were just as aware of that as he was.

The moment his resolve weakened and crumbled flashed across his ruggedly handsome face like a neon sign, as clear as day, and you knew you’d won. Maybe not the war, but this battle at least was yours.

Licking your lips, you reached up to fumble with the front of his pants. Button first, zipper second. It’s slow descending zrrrt made molten heat pool in your gut, and you squirmed in eager excitement when he shifted in the chair to help you slide them along with his underwear a quarter of the way down his hips. They were lean and trim; tantalizingly firm under your palm when you reached up to brace one hand on the smooth expanse of skin while the other pushed at the bulk of his Jounin vest to bunch it around his middle.

Shikaku’s cock twitched in the open air and stirred. Your mouth watered at the sight of it, just a shade darker than the rest of his warm complexion and so torturously inviting it took everything you had not to swallow him down your throat right then and there. But you weren’t keen on rushing this, not when it meant prolonging your time together just that much more. Instead, you leaned forward to nuzzle the stiffening length and take a deep, savory breath of his scent. Clean and musky with a faint curling note of salty sweat that made your pussy ache for him.

“Little minx.”

Roving your attention up, you peered into his expression. The ready arousal you saw staring back at you prompted a smile to curl your lips even as you rubbed your cheek against his growing erection like a cat marking its territory. Shikaku was unlike any other man you’d ever known. Those sharp features and jagged scars, the perpetually grumpy draw of his brows, the well groomed beard and frown lines. He was unfairly good looking in any setting no matter how mundane, but he was exceptionally attractive like this when he allowed himself to relax and give in to pleasure. The uncontested aura of authority that seemed to permeate the air around him only became more pronounced when you were kneeling at his feet like this, igniting a deep seated need in your subconscious to submit to him. There was no question who was really in charge here.

“You like it.” You said again, pressing a brief kiss to the shaft.

Shikaku reached down and buried one of his hands in your hair. “Yes, I do.”

Humming faintly when he curled his fingers against your scalp, you slipped your tongue out to take a tentative kitten lick at the thick vein on the underside. The silky smooth texture of him coupled with the faintest bitter tang went straight to your pussy and you let out a soft sigh. Shikaku relaxed further into the chair, tipping his head back to rest against the backrest. His fingers stayed locked where they were but he didn’t try to tug you into action while you took your time peppering the length of his cock in fleeting butterfly kisses, pausing here or there to mouth at him. He also didn’t make a move to turn his attention back to the paperwork laid out before him though and you considered that another small victory. The longer he focused on you, the longer you’d get to stay with him.

You licked your lips and nuzzled into the wiry thatch of hair at the base of his groin, inhaling another deep whiff of Shikaku’s masculine scent. It was dizzyingly erotic to you, the very smell of him igniting flames deep within the pit of your gut. You couldn’t get enough of him. The need to taste every inch of the commander's flesh was as overpowering as it was urgent, your breath coming a little faster as you pecked your way down to his balls.

Pubic fuzz gave way to yet more impossibly soft skin and you just barely caught the quiet exhale he issued when you flicked the left teste with your tongue. Lifting your eyes, you looked past the now straining erection jutting proudly up at the ceiling and higher still until you could lock eyes with him. Shikaku was watching you with a silent sort of anticipation that made your heart flutter. He was so handsome.

“I love your cock.” You murmured against his ball sack.

“Do you now?”

Smiling, you lifted your hand to wrap your fingers around the hard girth, lightly clasping and stroking him in taunting slow motion. He didn’t seem to mind and merely readjusted his grip on your hair. Still just holding on to you. A silent reminder that he could all too easily take the reins if he felt so inclined. It was heady and intoxicating, just like the smell of him. You idly wondered if Yoshino was even aware how lucky she was to have him before quickly smothering the thought. This was not the time to dwell on such an unpleasant topic and, suppressing a disconcerted shudder, you opened your lips wide to suck the right teste into your mouth.

A low hiss filtered through the room, cut short.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do with you …” He said quietly.

You spent a prolonged moment massaging the weight of his ball with your tongue, rolling it back and forth and suckling at the globular flesh. Shikaku was a mouthful and when you pulled off him a moment later with an accompanying dull pop, a glistening string of spittle followed. The wrinkled flesh shone wetly in the overhead light as you sat back on your haunches to look up at him. Still slowly pumping his cock. Mouth flushed and clinging to the cobwebs connecting you to his body. Eyes shining in lust and coy adoration alike.

“You could fuck me.”

Shikaku took one look at you and promptly groaned. “Get up.”

You blinked. “What?”

“Up.” He said again, gesturing you to your feet.

Confusion settled in but you acquiesced. He reached forward and hooked his hands under your armpits as you rose, barely giving you enough time to steady yourself before hauling you up to stand. Shikaku followed, his pants rustling softly when they shifted further down his bare thighs. His hold tightened and lifted, plopping you down on the edge of his desk without a word of explanation.

You started to get the picture when he gathered up his neat stack of papers and deposited them into his now vacant chair though. Smiling slyly, you licked your lips and watched Shikaku pluck the coffee mug from the desk, turning to deposit it somewhere else. His office was the very definition of minimalist though so he had to settle with placing it on the floor near the wall where it would be out of the way.

He turned back to you and shuffled close again, his hard cock bouncing with each step. “Lie down.” He rumbled, stooping to shove his pants and underwear down to his ankles.

“Oooh, what are you going to do to me, commander?” You purred and obediently drew your legs up. With a twist of your butt, you reclined back on top of the desk and stretched your arms above your head in a coquettish display that you hoped he’d find too tantalizing to resist.

To your delight, Shikaku allowed himself a brief moment to appreciatively drag his gaze across your body. You didn’t miss that he paused on your chest and again on the swell of your thighs. And then, so abruptly it actually caught you off guard, he smirked.

An icy chill ran through you but before you could even think to question him, he lifted his hands and brought them together at chest level. The signs he weaved went by in a blur and you just barely recognized them for what they were seconds before serpentine like shadows erupted out from under the desk. One wrapped itself around your wrists and effectively bound them together while two more latched onto your ankles and pulled. You yelped in surprise, instinctively struggling against the ironlike shackles, but you were altogether helpless to stop it as they stretched you out spread eagle on the desk. Your face burned with something not entirely dissatisfied when you realized what he was doing.

“S - Shikaku-taicho!”

“There, don’t you look pretty like that?” He said lightly, clearly pleased as he dropped the hand signs used to invoke the frightening jutsu. The shadows stayed though, a testament to his mastery of the clans formidable technique, and you sucked in a sharp breath when he reached out to brush your cheek with the backs of his knuckles.

“That’s not fair …” You whined, trying in vain to arch up off the desk.

He cocked a taunting brow. “It’s not? But you look so good like this, sweetheart.” With a simple twist of his wrist, Shikaku’s thumb found your lips and you readily opened your mouth. The calloused digit slipped past your teeth, finding your tongue and tenderly caressing the flat of it with light circles. “Perfectly ripe and all mine for the taking. I thought you’d be happy about this. Aren’t you getting what you wanted?”

You responded with an enthusiastic suck on his thumb, undulating your tongue to bathe the rough pad of his finger in attention. The corner of his mouth hitched in amusement, a fond glint in his dark eyes.

“Spoiled.” Shikaku murmured, drawing his gaze lower.

He set his sights on your top first and, with a few tugs, the material came loose for him. You moaned softly around the finger in your mouth, trying to tuck your chin down to see what he was doing but it was no use. The shadows had you pulled so taut that there was no wriggle room to work with and all you could do was lie there, feeling the cool air lap at exposed skin and listening to the quiet rustle of fabric.

Taking his time, Shikaku traced the lacy cups of your bra and teased over your nipples. He was doing it on purpose and you groaned when they started to pebble and peak under the stimulation. Your breath came even quicker some moments later when he finally zeroed in on the front clasp you’d hoped would come in handy but you honestly hadn’t expected that wish to come to fruition quite this way. He’d never used his jutsu on you before.

“Very nice choice for tonight.”

Flicking the little latch open, he reverentially pushed the cups aside and you trembled when your nipples instantly puckered in the open room. You shifted, trying once again to free yourself of the shadows hold, but it was no use. They were as solid as flesh and bone, and ten times stronger than any normal man. You were completely at his mercy like this and you keened around the thumb in your mouth when he lightly took one of the stiff nubs between his fingers.

Carefully tweaking it to the point of the near discomfort, Shikaku only switched to the other once you started to whimper at the friction. He repeated the process and then switched back to the first. Over and over again until you were twisting in high strung agony. Your pussy was soaked and you could hardly think straight anymore but he seemed content to gag you with his finger for the foreseeable future. The spit pooling in the back of your throat threatened to choke you and you forcibly swallowed, reveling in the low sound of approval he issued in response.

You squirmed when he released your straining nipple, bracing for him to attack the other in similar fashion, only to go ramrod stiff when he reached further down instead. Breath catching, you wiggled your hips and strained against the jutsu, wanting to jut your cunt up to meet him halfway. Shikaku merely smoothed the rough palm of his hand down your thigh though, pausing to squeeze the doughy soft flesh before sliding back up. His hand slipped under your skirt now, fingertips dancing along the hem of your panties to make your pussy clamp down on nothing in sporadic pulses.

“Pleese …”

“Hm?” Turning his face towards yours, Shikaku fixed you with an infuriatingly innocent look. “What do you need, sweetheart? Tell me.”

Screwing your eyes shut, you bucked into his hand with a softly keening moan. He laughed in response, the sound so breathy and dark that it had you clenching all over again. A soft whimper bubbled to life in your throat and you tossed your head against the desk, trying not to think about how close he was to touching your sopping wet pussy. You couldn’t take much more of this.

“What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?”

You opened your eyes just enough to pin him with a flat look.

Another deep, masculine chuckle rumbled out of him and, keeping his attention on your face, Shikaku curled his fingers inward to tease the apex of your slit. The fleetingly brief contact had you going ramrod stiff with a subdued jolt. Your lashes fluttered and you groaned around his finger, twitching when he pushed directly on that sensitive pleasure button to rub it teasingly slow. White hot static lit up throughout your lower body, making your pussy flutter eagerly at the friction. It was so easy to lose yourself under Shikaku’s ever watchful eye, especially since he seemed to know your body like the back of his own hand. Every erogenous zone, every embarrassingly receptive pressure point, what speed and amount of force he needed to exert. He had it all mapped out and there was nothing you could do to stop the steadily building pressure even if you’d wanted to.

“Nngha …!”

“There.” He said in such a hushed tone you almost missed it. “How does that feel?”

You offered a halted nod of your head, basking in the sensation.

“Good. Now finish what you started.”

The thumb in your mouth pulled, hooking into the inside of your cheek, and you obediently turned your head under Shikaku’s guidance. He shuffled a little closer then, leaving his arm stretched down the length of your body so he could continue massaging your slick cunt while he nudged his cock towards your mouth. You swallowed hard at the sharp bolt of arousal that shot through you as you struggled to crane your neck around and catch the head of him between your lips. The salty bitterness of precum overwhelmed your tongue in an instant and you groaned, eyes rolling in carnal bliss.

“Good girl … just like that.”

Closing your eyes, you twisted your upper body so you could take more of him into your mouth. It was a crowded fit with his thumb still hooked in your cheek, not to mention an uncomfortable stretch for your neck, but you were hardly in any position to complain. He was absolutely right. You were getting exactly what you’d wanted and you couldn’t have been any happier about that.

Your pussy clenched eagerly as you bobbed your head forward and pulled him in as deep as you could. A soft whine clawed at your throat when you realized you could only make it about half of the way down his shaft before the shadows binding your arms halted your progress. There wasn’t enough leverage for you to lean in and swallow him straight down to the base like you wanted but something about having to work for it lit up a competitive spark within your chest. If Shikaku wanted to test you in this fashion then so be it. You would certainly make every attempt to rise to the occasion, at least.

“Nngh …” He groaned quietly when you sealed your lips around him and noisily slurped. “Your mouth feels so good, baby. You like sucking on my cock, don’t you?”

Awkwardly nodding, you strained to take another inch or so and it was almost enough to have him tickling your tonsils. You swallowed hard, hips twitching under the steady ministrations of his fingers as you lifted your tongue to lav the underside of him in attention. Tracing the thick vein upward, you swirled it around the glans and prodded his slit. More bitter pre cum oozed out, rewarding you for your efforts, and you moaned at the taste of him. That alone could send you into a wild frenzy, like an animal mindlessly desperate for release, but his cursed shadows hadn’t let up at all. Shikaku was a formidable opponent indeed.

“Look at me, sweetheart. Let me see those pretty eyes.”

Obediently, you slid your gaze up to meet his and a fresh wave of arousal washed over you. With his brows drawn in concentration and his lips parted on a quiet exhale, the Jounin commander was the very definition of testosterone fueled desire. Not only did he enjoy playing this game but he wanted you. Not any of the other shinobi working under his command nor any of the civilian women. Not the wife he had waiting for him at home. No one else. Just you.

Sucking in a sharp breath through your nose, you arched on top of the desk fervently enough to make your spine pop. It served its purpose though and you weakly canted your pelvis against his hand, as much as the unforgiving shadows would allow. Shikaku grunted softly in response and pushed down on your clit a little harder, rubbing you a little faster. The sharp friction had the muscles in your thighs jumping as you squirmed, struggling to keep your eyes open and locked on his face. Every nerve ending in your body was starting to vibrate with the building pressure in your loins, promising the inevitable absolution of release. You were getting close.

He seemed to realize it at the same time you did though and his fingers retreated, much to your groaning disappointment. Shikaku gave the inside of your cheek a chiding tug to keep you focused on the task at hand and you shuddered when he unceremoniously flipped your skirt up. You issued a wet, faltering groan as the rough pads of his fingers danced across your lower belly before slipping into the band of your underwear. Digits curling, seeking, he dipped his pointer finger between the meat of your labia and reached further back to prod your entrance with a satisfied growl.

“So wet for me … do you like being on the receiving end of my technique that much, sweetheart? Hm?”

You flexed your limbs and moaned in response, feeling the slick trail of saliva oozing from the corner of your mouth to pool under your cheek. It was rapidly cooling in the air and a tremor raced through you when he smeared the sticky arousal gushing from your entrance up to your clit. Using it as a surprisingly effective lubricant, Shikaku started grinding tight circles around the sensitive nub with just enough force to leave you shaking like a leaf under his attention. Your breath caught and you went ramrod stiff, uselessly trying to brace yourself against the staggering pressure. His attack on your body was a concerted and precise one though and you finally had no choice but to toss your head back and suck in a much needed lungful of air.

“Aahh - aaahhhnn! Sh - Shika -”

The thumb in your mouth abruptly retreated so he could put the flat of his palm on the back of your head and push you down onto his cock again with an accompanying gurgle on your part. “I didn’t say you could stop, did I?” He rumbled in a voice noticeably thicker than usual.

Toes flexing, you forced your jaw to relax when he pushed his hips forward and Shikaku’s hard length surged towards the back of your throat. The spit running down the side of your face became thicker, bubbling out around him while he paused long enough to find a satisfying rhythm on your clit before pulling back. His first real thrust into your mouth was slow and borderline sensual, almost as if he were making love to you, but the pace quickly picked up. In and out, in and out until he was well and truly fucking into you, the obscene gargling sounds coming from the depths of your salivating mouth ringing loud in the otherwise silent room.

It was all you could do just to keep breathing through your nose as you reeled under the intense onslaught of stimulation. Your pussy throbbed in warning and you keened, eyes rolling into the back of your head. The calloused pads of his fingers were as delightful as they were torturous on your petal soft inner folds and it didn’t take long at all for the friction to become unbearable. You were going to cum. The pressure was reaching the tipping point and the heavy weight of his hand on your skull, the driving force of his cock jabbing towards your constricting throat only heightened the tingling shockwaves of ecstasy. You were going to cum and Shikaku knew that.

“Let it go, baby.” He gritted out. “Keep my cock in your mouth and cum.”

You tensed at his command, straining so hard against the shadows on your wrists and ankles that your muscles started to ache in protest. It was much too late though and you shattered with a strangled shriek, screwing your eyes shut as you tried to pull back. He kept you right where you were though, his palm pressed flush against your head and his fingers rubbing your spasming cunt in quick, jerky swipes. You jolted on top of the desk, letting the crashing waves of euphoria swallow you up, and unabashedly wailed around the cock thrusting into your mouth.

“Shit. That’s it. Keep cumming. You want to swallow my load, don’t you?”

The breathy lilt to Shikaku’s rough voice added onto the palpable memory of him shooting thick ropes down your throat made you shudder so violently that your first orgasm bled seamlessly into another. It hit you like a sack of bricks, threatening to bowl you right over as you twisted and writhed as much as his jutsu would permit. High strung tears pricked your lash line, every muscle in your body singing in rapture when he refused to let up the grinding pressure on your clit. He was milking the pleasure out of you the way only he was capable of and you let out a muffled, wordless cry of distress as his hips began to stutter.

“Here it comes, baby. Get ready.” He seethed through gritted teeth, clutching the back of your head so tight his hand started to shake.

A few more faltering thrusts was all it took for him to tip over the edge and his cock jerked against your tongue with the first splurt of salty, bitter semen. It hit the roof of your mouth, making you jolt, and a second and then a third pooled at the back of your throat, threatening to choke you. The final bit of creamy discharge oozed out of his pulsing cock to mix with the goopy mess coating your palette and you groaned, basking in the heady flavor of him. It was enough to damn near send you into another fit of convulsions.

Heaving a satisfied sigh, Shikaku carefully withdrew his flagging cock and lifted the hand from between your legs to gently tilt your chin up at him. “Open.” He huffed, absently caressing the side of your face with his long fingers.

You obeyed, sticking your tongue out for good measure to show him the white clumps sitting hot and heavy in your mouth. He smiled, very softly, and pushed up on your jaw.

“Good girl. Now swallow.”

Pulling your swollen lips in a pout, you made a playful show of tilting your head back and choking it all down. You could feel the moment it hit your stomach, an intimate flutter sparking inside your chest. It was hard not to imagine it a little lower, deep in your womb where it could take root and grow into another child. Another Nara.

That was a dangerous train of thought though and you kept silent when he let up on the chakra feeding into the shadows so that they dissipated, slinking back under the desk where they belonged. Gingerly bringing your arms down to stretch them out, you cautiously peered up at him. Shikaku was watching you with a concealed look of consideration and then, to your surprise, he reached out to softly take your wrist in his hand.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No.” You said truthfully, trying not to smile. “You know you didn’t.”

The corner of his mouth hitched in amusement as he rolled his thumb over the bone to work out the ache he knew you were feeling. “It never hurts to ask though. I don’t think I’d be able to forgive myself if I caused you any harm, even unintentionally.” Bringing your hand up to his face, Shikaku pressed a brief kiss to your palm. “I’m sorry but I need to head home now, sweetheart.”

“But your paperwork -”

“I’ll take it with me.” He said with a lax shrug as he helped you sit up on the desk. “I probably won’t be getting much sleep anyway. Shikamaru can help me with it while he’s up half the night fussing.”

You frowned, a tinge of regret putting a damper on your comfortable afterglow as you looked down at your lap. The thought that you were being selfish earlier despite your claim to the contrary flashed through your mind and then camped there, almost making you wish you’d just left it alone. But then Shikaku brought both hands up and cradled your cheeks between his palms so he could lift your attention back to his smiling face.

“Don’t look so putout. I don’t mind. Really.” Leaning close, he pressed his mouth to your forehead in an affectionate, lingering gesture. “I’ll make it up to you though. How does lunch tomorrow sound?”

Suppressing an excited, tittering giggle, you pinned him with a pleased grin. “Sounds like a date, commander. I can’t wait.”

“Neither can I.”

#naruto #Shikaku Nara #shikamaru x reader #self insert bullshit

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ill-skillsgard · 4 years ago

Text

Good Manners - Henry Deaver x Mistress

Warning: 18+ smut/mentions of cheating/mature themes/strong language/spousal conflict. **Dominance, some bum stuff and mega fluff in this part**

Note: I kind of hate to say this, but I think I will retire HxM after a couple more parts. I’ll tie it up nicely, and answer all the burning questions before I do so, but I just wanted to warn you guys now instead of springing it on you without notice. I just have so many projects I want to get underway and tying up some stories is necessary for me to direct my focus. Don’t hate me! I know we’ve had a lot of fun with this series, but I see it winding down, and I hope you understand!

Read past Henry x Mistress imagines here > Masterpost

Henry threw open the door, taking long strides as he shed his jacket, dropped his keys on the kitchen island and zipped through to the living room where he found her channel-surfing in her pyjamas. From the corner of her eye, the tall man's sudden appearance startled a gasp from her.

"Henry! I didn't expect you home so quickly. How did it go?" She said, sitting up straight.

"It doesn't matter," he muttered.

Henry swept her off the couch, attacking her mouth with his to stifle any further questioning. Fresh with anger and the residual adrenaline of finally admitting he had taken a mistress during the downfall of his marriage, Henry had grown tired of explaining himself. He was hungry and eager to display his dominance—the dominance that evaporated in Mary's shadow no longer.

When he was with her—his true love—there was nothing he wasn't allowed to do, no act she forbade. If he wanted to take her hard and fast, she welcomed the rush. If he wished to have her take care of him, that was also permitted. Tonight he wanted nothing more than to make her moan and squeal, proving to himself that he wasn't a pawn in a grand-scale game of manipulation. Henry was powerful, and it had been too long since he acknowledged his prowess.

"Oh my gosh, Henry. Where is this all coming from?" She asked, breathless as Henry toted her to the bedroom and tossed her onto the king-sized bed.

"Quiet. No more questions," Henry said as he unbuttoned his shirt and pulled the fabric from underneath his belted trousers. "Tonight, you're mine. Your body is mine to do with what I please.

"Yes, sir."

He took hold of her chin, smiling. "Oh, yes. That's exactly what I want to hear. Yes, sir. More, sir. Harder, sir. And anything I ask for, you'll provide."

She nodded as he shed his undershirt and undid his belt. The glint of the buckle in the light caught her eye, and Henry noticed the way she squirmed and bit her lip. He looked down at the leather in his hand, and instead of discarding it like he usually would, he folded it in half, snapping the material together with a crack. She flinched.

"What? Does the thought of getting whipped with my belt make your pussy wet?" He asked.

"Yes, Mister Deaver, sir," she said, turning about and bending over.

"I bet everything I do makes that pussy wet."

She smiled, wiggling her hips until Henry climbed onto the bed and pulled her bottoms up, cheeks peeking out from under the flimsy material. Henry tapped one cheek and then the other with the folded belt, a light warning of undeserved but wanted punishment.

While Henry teased her skin, she thought about what might have happened with Mary to set him off. He wasn't the type to take control without significant reason. The first time Henry had dominated her had been in his office after a day of training and mutual teasing. She remembered it clearly; everyone had gone home, leaving the floor empty. Yet even as high up as they were, she got off on the thought of someone seeing them through the window, an intern walking in to ask Henry a question, or an after-hours janitor happening upon them in the throes of ecstasy.

Henry wedged the material of her bottoms even higher, leaning over to first kiss the area he meant to slap. Then he raised the belt and whipped her. It wasn't a harsh blow. He could have hit much harder, but she still mewled and thanked Henry.

"Good manners," Henry praised, yanking the bottoms down around her knees. "And I see no panties. Only bad girls forget to put on their panties. Are you a bad girl?"

"Yes, sir. But I want to be a good girl for you," she said.

"You're well on your way, darling. Hold still."

She yelped from the firm smack of the leather across her bottom. An angry red welt rose, spanning both cheeks. Even Henry winced as he ran his hand over the reddening mark, feeling the warmth radiating from her skin.

"That was a good one," he said, chuckling.

"Thank you, sir," she whispered.

Henry dropped the belt and got on his knees before the edge of the bed. Framing her rear, he licked one half of the most recent strip of buzzing punishment, and then the other, providing cooling relief with his saliva. He pulled back, simpering and admiring the fullness of her ass, the disciplinary marks and the moan that left her when he trailed his tongue close to her openings.

"Do you remember the first night I fucked you? How much fun we had at the bar before I invited you up? Gosh... It took me so many drinks to find the balls to ask you. I thought I'd be too drunk to perform when I finally got you naked. But you looked so hot that night. Even in your little server's uniform, the white button-up blouse... Your hair all twisted up in a bun where you used to stick your pencil. I had already imagined fucking you so many times before then, too."

Henry kissed the crease between thigh and cheek, then gave her a satisfying smack. Grabbing her thigh, he guided her legs open, and her pussy came into view, but he wasn't ready to touch her quite yet.

"Even though I wanted things to work out with my wife, every morning I saw you, I wished I'd gotten the divorce underway so I could pull you onto my lap and squeeze all your beautiful curves. Some nights I'd argue with her, then come into that café just to get a glimpse of a woman who smiled every time she saw me. Such a little thing shouldn't have been so erotic, but it was, and God, I just wanted you so bad. I even masturbated to the thought of taking you at that bar long before you and I ever hooked up."

Henry's admissions made her cheeks turn pink, and her heart raced. She dropped her tailbone, encouraging him to touch her, but he only slid his hand up and down her ass, petting her while he spoke.

"Let me ask you something, gorgeous... Did you ever think about fucking me?"

She scoffed, not from embarrassment but from the absurdity of Henry not realizing how much she flirted with him during the times they had been strangers. "Of course, I did. How could I not? You always came in looking so handsome. I thought you were a model. And you were the kindest gentleman I'd ever met. I wanted to serve you much more than just coffee and scones," she giggled.

"Really?" He asked, kissing the small of her back as he squeezed her cheeks again.

"Yes, sir. Even though I knew you were married, I still thought of having those big, strong hands touching my body."

Henry chuckled under his breath. "And what else?"

She blushed. "Well, sir... I often wondered if you were as nice as you looked. Most of the men who dressed like you were entitled, rude... But you always smiled at me, and I couldn't help wanting to kiss you. I wanted to climb on your lap in the middle of that café and ride your cock. Sometimes, I even snuck away just to touch myself a little after you came in. I'd watch your hand gripping your pen, watch you purse your lips when you were lost in thought. Once, I even dropped something on the floor near you just so I could bend down and hope you were staring at me."

"Oh, that's naughty. Have you always been such a naughty girl?" Henry asked.

"Yes, sir. I think so. But you help bring it out of me," she said.

"I do, do I? I make you want to be bad?"

She nodded her head. "Yes, Mister Deaver. Can I tell you something else?"

Henry purred as he popped the button of his pressed trousers and pushed them down his thighs, readying himself to tease her even more. "You may."

"I had a feeling you were married. That first night, after you asked me to go upstairs with you to your room... You weren't wearing your ring, but I saw it many times before. I knew you must have had a wife, but I chose to play dumb because I wanted your cock so badly. It didn't even matter to me. I thought we'd just fuck once to get it out of our systems... But you were so amazing. I knew right after that I'd come back for more. I wanted to be mad at you for being a bad man, but I couldn't help myself."

Henry's groin roiled with excitement, blood shooting down to harden him. He disrobed and climbed onto the bed behind her, goading her pussy with the head of his swollen cock. "There's no other pussy in this world I'd ever want to be inside, baby. You're so perfect for me. My nasty little girl."

Playing confessions helped ease away the panic gripping Henry's heart. The reworked settlement and Mary's promise to drain him meant nothing as he pushed inside of her. The private investigator—if what Mary said was true—following them around to catch them in a lover's embrace only strengthened his need for her. He wanted to be seen touching her, kissing her. Henry looked down at the woman groaning from his penetration and bristled with affection.

"Oh, Mister Deaver, your cock feels so good inside me," she languished.

"Fuck, I love you, baby. I love your tight little pussy. Your beautiful face. This gorgeous body. Mm, I'll never get enough of you. My perfect girl."

She bent her spine, pressing into his hips until she completely enveloped him. Henry clutched her thighs and began pumping into her, picking up speed until she whined from the harsh punctures.

He ground his teeth, unable to stifle his pleasure. "Fuck, I love your cunt baby. Love when it makes my cock all soaking wet. It's so much tighter than hers. You're absolutely perfect."

"Thank you, sir," she murmured.

Henry pressed his chest to her back, snaking his arm around her collarbone to bring her close. "You belong to me. You're all mine. This pussy right here? This sweet little hole belongs to me. Only me."

Each thrust knocked a bit of air from her lungs until she gasped. Henry touched her clit with two fingers, rubbing it sparingly as he pinched her nipples with the other hand.

"I fucking love you, baby. You know that? Not an hour goes by, I don't think of being with you, being inside you... I want you forever."

"I'm yours," she said.

"Do you love me?" He asked.

His strong pulses knocked the words out of her until he sat back on his haunches, bringing her with him to stir his hips. She moaned from the change in sensation.

"I love you," she whispered.

"Yeah? You really do?"

"Yes, Henry. I love you more than anything."

His hand squeezed gently around her neck as he leaned in close. "That's good, baby. I'll never tire of hearing you say that."

She smiled as he touched her clit again. His body pressing against hers made her feel small, chest and long arms enveloping her top half as he worked himself inside. Henry must have felt powerful that day, for he pulled out and toppled her onto her back, knocking her legs apart to hone in on her slick opening. He towered above, throwing her legs over his shoulders and driving her into the bed with his entire weight.

"Fuck, that pussy is so goddamn wet for me," Henry said with a gasp. "Can't believe all that delicious pussy juice belongs to me."

"Mm, can I taste it?" She asked.

Henry cocked his head as he continued slamming into her. "What?"

"Pull out and fuck my throat."

It took Henry a moment to reconcile with her request. Any other day, he might deny her, or cower from the idea of shoving his cock in her mouth. But today was different. She wanted him in all the ways Mary never did. The delight in her eyes still surprised him, and he gave her what she wanted because it was what he wanted, despite all the times he'd fashioned himself as too gallant. Too long were his intimate perversions denied that when he met her, he couldn't believe she languished in being treated like a plaything.

As he used her mouth and moaned from the swirling of her tongue, her hands travelled up his thighs and didn't stop until she gripped his cheeks. The pad of her thumb met the expanse of skin underneath his balls, and the sweet pressure caused a stirring of sensation that was still foreign to him. He shuddered, dropping his chin to find her staring up at him with an evil glint in her eyes. Henry nodded.

"Oh, fuck yes, I love it when you do that."

His encouragement lit a fire beneath her. All this time, she assumed Henry only humoured her when she wanted to play extra dirty and touch his ass, but he secretly loved the feeling. The tension against his prostate ignited hundreds of dormant nerves that lit the way toward a powerful orgasm. Henry recalled the first time he allowed her to finger him, how nervous he'd been and how intense the sensation felt when she penetrated him.

Careful not to intrude too hard or too fast, she circled his hole a few times, assessing by the magnitude of his moans it was okay to press a little further. If her mouth weren't full of his cock, she'd ask, but Henry didn't flinch or whine the way he had the first time.

He opened his legs wider and sat back on the digit teasing his entrance with a low, lustful groan.

"God, yes, baby, finger my fucking asshole while I fuck your throat. That's what I like."

The duelling pleasures had Henry bucking fast and coming faster. He didn't want the bliss to end, but her expert fingers and well-versed tongue pushed him to the edge and didn't stop there. Henry unsheathed his cock from her throat and spilled an impressive amount of cum over her chest. She even pulled him back in to drink the lazier stream of fluid that followed the many bursts that had him writhing and singing his pleasure.

"Jesus... You're such a dirty girl. I love it. Fuck, I love watching you lick up all my cum." Henry collapsed beside her, then gasped when he realized she hadn't orgasmed. "Oh, fuck! I almost forgot about you."

"It's all right, darling. How about you just rest and you can do me later? You look like you need a break."

Henry wanted to decline, but she was right. His ears rang, and his fingers and toes were numb from the recent climax. All he wanted was to hold her close and kiss her face while he came down.

"That was so good. You're amazing," Henry murmured.

"Feel better now?" She asked.

"So much better," he sighed. "But I have a question I need you to answer before we do anything else."

She propped her head up, disregarding the stickiness still dripping down her chest. "Oh, yeah? What's that?"

Henry took in a long, steadying breath. He blinked a few times until the haze in his vision subsided, then looked at her with seriousness burning in his mismatched eyes. "When we finalize this divorce, and I'm no longer married to that evil fucking succubus of a woman... Would you marry me?"

"What?" She gasped. "Henry! You can't be serious."

"I am serious. Very serious."

"You want to get hitched right away?"

"Baby... I've known for a long time that I want to marry you. It just seemed so... distant, impossible. Like it would never happen. But I promise, if you marry me, I'll be the best husband ever."

She hugged him close, squealing into his neck. "I know! I know you'd be the best husband."

"The moment I walk out of the court, I want to marry you. It's not enough to just be your boyfriend. I want to put a ring on your finger and have a wedding and go on a honeymoon. I want it all. Ever since I was young, I wanted to be a husband and—"

Henry bit his lip. She pulled back and searched his eyes, still gripping him tightly.

"And?" She pressed.

"A father. I want to be a dad so badly."

Tears sprung in the corner of her eyes. When he saw the watery pools reflecting him, a similar wave of emotions overtook him. She blinked, and two streams fell down her cheeks. Henry pulled her close, kissing her as his own tears fell. When he pulled back, she was smiling.

"Is that okay? Is that... too much?" Henry asked, voice trembling.

She shook her head. "It's not too much, Henry. I love you. God, I love you more than anything. You deserve to be happy. And of course, I'd marry you. I want nothing more than to be a good wife to you."

"Really?" He asked as more joyful tears washed out his vision.

"Yes!"

"That's wonderful," he whispered, pulling her close again.

She rested her cheek on his chest, feeling the thumping of his heart as he sniffled and wiped the tears from his face.

"Henry?"

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"I know you’ll be an amazing father."

#henry x mistress #henry deaver x mistress #Henry Deaver #bill skarsgard fanfiction #bill skarsgard smut #bill skarsgard imagine

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adelheidvonschicksal · 5 years ago

Text

Until Next Time | Todoroki x F!Reader

Despite being married, he can’t bear to stay away from you.

Content warning: smut/nsfw, cheating, angst, fantasy!au

Word count: 2151

Todoroki loved you.

You were his everything. The source of heat on snowy days. The sunshine that helped him cast aside the shadows that plagued him. The soft touch that smoothed out his roughest edges, crafting them into something unfamiliar yet beautiful.

Still, he married someone else.

Given the choice, he wouldn’t have. He was never in a rush to be married, longing after those youthful adventures like most men his age, but he had always envisioned you’d be the one with him when the time came. It only took an arranged marriage to make him realize that it was nothing but forlorn hope to think such a thing would be possible.

He didn’t complain though. Maybe he should have; but with you being a commoner and he a prince, it was inevitable that this would be the conclusion either way. Even now, he could recall his father saying: this is for the good of the country.

You weren’t invited that day. Todoroki knew you wouldn’t have shown up either way.

He thought it was for the best. Being married meant he should distance himself from you. It was easy to resist at first since he couldn’t talk to you even if he wanted. You were obviously upset and refused to see him. After all, you had loved him too and being together would only cause you pain.

There’s a funny thing about love though. It makes it hard for two people to stay apart even after the vow he was forced to make to some princess who had the misfortune of being betrothed to him. Upon seeing you again, his resolve slowly crumbled for star-crossed lovers couldn’t be separated forever. Even Romeo and Juliet found a way; and like Romeo, he couldn’t stay away despite the consequences and the shame.

Todoroki often found himself seeking you out, because despite his wife’s beauty, her intelligence, all the fabulous silk and pearls, she didn’t make him feel the same way as your smile did when you greeted him. Her voice calling out to him didn’t quite compare to yours when you whispered his name. Neither did her body fit so perfectly against his like yours did when your lips finally met.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming today,” you whispered happily against his lips, drawing your arms around him. Your head went to his shoulder, and his hand faithfully cupped the back of your head, petting. You shared a modest embrace that left him fulfilled in a way he hasn’t been in what felt like ages. He never realized how he could so desperately long for something as simple as a hug from the right person.

“We had an assembly canceled, so I thought why not come see you.”

“Canceled? Hm…are you sure you’re not calling in sick again, Prince Shouto?” you giggled, and the teasing laughter brings him back to fond memories. He had often slacked off in preference of visiting you when he was younger.

“There’s only so many I can attend before I’m completely drained,” he reasoned, the exhaustion of his royal duties accumulating over the days. When he finally reached a deserved break, it was never you he went to sleep with, garnering more stress.

Pulling away, you offered, “Would you like me to make you something then? I can have something on the stove in a few minutes.”

“That isn’t necessary. I can’t stay too long I’m afraid. I have to get back before—”

“Before someone notices I know,” you finished, repeating what he’s told you too many times to count. You wished it didn’t have to be this way. It wasn’t entirely his fault. You saw that, but you hated having to sneak around this way, being unable to indulge in simple things like going out together. But it would be a bigger embarrassment for him if the truth about a mistress got out.

“I’m sorry. I wanted to come sooner.”

You shook your heads. The thoughts on things you couldn’t change would not make anything better. Not for you or him. “Well, all that matters is you’re here now.”

Smiling, he leaned in, kissing your cheek. Lifting his arms, his hands molded to the shape of your waist. Calloused fingertips meticulously followed your form from the curve of your hips to the slope of your velvety thighs.

“Beautiful, let’s go to your room.”

“After you,” you said, following him to the location. There was no time to play coy. No need to hide your eagerness. You only had so much time together, and you refused to waste it playing hard to get when he so obviously already had you.

You sat on the edge of your bed, lips still locked with his and moving vigorously to gather as much of his taste as possible. You would need the memory again to sustain you until he would visit again. His top lip brushed over your bottom one, sucking and pulling on the supple flesh.

Todoroki began to remove his vest, besting his own record to relieve the many buttons and shrug the shirt off before pressing you flat against the bed. Like glue, your hands attached to his chest, palms skimming over alabaster skin and the subtle bulges of toned muscles. Moving to his back, you massaged his shoulders before tracing the smooth grooves of his shoulder blades.

Todoroki sighed at your touch, the low drawl echoing and fading in your open mouth as your tongues swirled. You didn’t get a moment to breathe until he decided your neck was more worthy of the attention from his mouth. Brazenly, he trailed hungry kisses down your neck, smirking when you responded with an adorably amatory moan and tilted your head to allow him more silky flesh to place possessive marks on. Your hair tickled his face, flooding him with the sweet smell coming from it. You held such a lovely scent. The milky aroma of cream and freshly baked goods It sunk into your skin from your career. No matter how much you washed the scent never seemed to leave you. No other smell was nearly as alluring, and his efforts to have you grew tenfold. It was as if you were all he could think about.

Todoroki wrapped his arms around you, expertly pulling at the strings that held together your corsage until your breasts were free from the tight confines of your dress. His gaze fell on your, watching the gentle heaving of your chest as you heavily inhaled. You whimpered when he pushed a pert nipple with an affectionate touch. The mewling only grew when he circled along the ring of color enclosing the sensitive peak in the center, occasionally dragging his thumb over that fragile crux.

He followed along your collar bone, leaving a trail of wet bites to the valley between your breasts. He squeezed one gentle, making you moan from tender touches over delicate convexes. He blew air on one puffed nipple before warmly wrapping it in his mouth.

“Shouto.” You moaned as he hungrily sucked, your body lifting and plopping back onto the bed as your core ached. It felt like you were on fire as his teeth raked your untouched skin.

When his mouth fully preoccupied your upper body that’s when his hand glided down to your hip, pushing your dress further down, and you shimmied it off with urgency. He released your nipple with a wet pop, his saliva coating over you. “Someone’s needy today. Have you been a good girl, not touching like I said?”

“Y-Yes,” you admitted, and he smirked.

“Let’s see, shall we?” he said, sliding his hand between your legs.

He coaxed a finger into you, lightly pumping and extracting out a small release of your cum. Todoroki's heart jumped when your cunt squeezed around him with the addition of a second finger. His thumb followed your part, glossing against your inner lips to the covered bundle of nerves they led to.

You mewled, your back-arching as you squirmed to get tighter to his hand. You ground against him, and he licked his lips when your sweet cum coated his open palm. Watching your radiant face, he smiled. “You’re so beautiful, love,” he whispered and slammed his lips against yours again.

You moaned in unison, swallowing down the sultry taste of each other. He kept stroking your plump underside, his fingers sinking deeper and deeper into you with each scissoring motion.

You gasped loud, haziness growing in your mind as arousal pulled in your stomach more and more. “I n-need you now.”

“Need how?”

“I want you to make love to me,” you answered, making him flush a pale shade of pink. It was only on these rare occasions with you he could possibly call sex that. It didn’t seem right to call it lovemaking when it was with someone he didn’t love.

“As you wish,” he said, kicking off his boots and shuffling down his jodhpurs. He lined his tip against your lips until they yielded and parted with his guidance. You suck him in, hugging his pulsing cock. “You feel incredible,” he remarked, his shoulders relaxing and eyes fluttering closed as he pumped into your orgasmic chamber.

“Ah, Sh-Shouto!”

You gripped onto his shoulders, holding onto him and never letting go. He stretched you so wonderfully. Each nerve being massaged by hot flesh throbbing against your inner walls.

Todoroki grasped onto your hips, holding you in place as the force of his hips increased. The light slapping of your hips echoed, only covered by your ever-increasing groans. Your breasts jiggled like pudding cups pushing against his chest. Chanting his name, you bucked back up into him. Your head lolled back as you caused him to hit deep inside of you. Each time your arousal was ticked up another notch, and you came with the intense constricting inside of you.

Todoroki moaned, riding through your orgasm as you clenched around him. Your slick cunt left him dowsed in your cum, and he rocked into you clumsily, desperately seeking more pleasure as he raced to catch up to you. He knew he was close when his body tensed before he burst in release.

You were filled with a sudden heat, the culmination of which leaked out of your tight slit with the slowing buck of his hips. You milked him completely.

You buckled into each other; bodies sweaty but relaxed in a cool afterglow. He wrapped his arms around your waist and released a heavy breath. Your hand went up to comb through red and white as he rested his head on the side of yours for the wee few minutes the two of you had left together.

He felt entirely at peace at that time, almost normal. Sex with you always felt cathartic before the inevitable disappointment that he would have to part with you soon or else raise suspicion. Reluctantly, Shouto pulled away from your embrace and began to dress.

“A little longer, just a few minutes longer, please five more, then you can go...” you begged, tugging him back. You raised your head, trying to kiss him again. He only briefly let the moment last, gently returning your affection before holding you back.

“Sorry. I have to get back on the road before it gets too dark to travel,” he explained, knowing if he was caught being away too long it would only make it more difficult for the two of you to see each other.

You sighed loudly, this time being the one to pull away from him. His lips curled into a frown and his heart tugged as he saw your head droop. “I’ll try to come sooner next time so we can lie together longer.”

“Sure.” You turned away from him, hiding your face. Your arm swiftly came across your face, and he didn’t have to guess that you were trying not to let him see your tear up.

“I mean it,” he said, touching your shoulders. You shifted away.

“You should get going before your wife misses you,” you returned, your voice trembling with frustration. The kind he wasn’t sure what to do about. He hated to see you upset. It was his fault for being unable to break it off, but he didn’t want to give you up again either.

“…Can I still get a goodbye kiss?” he asked hopefully as a sign that you weren’t too angry with him. But you didn’t bother to answer. Weakly, he leaned in and pressed another gentle kiss to your cheek, the only good sign was that you allowed him to do so. That too might have been wishful thinking. ”Until next time, (Name). I love you,” he said; except when you didn’t say it back, he wasn’t sure if there would ever be a next time anymore.

#todoroki x reader #shouto todoroki x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #prince todoroki x reader #adelssmut #notsfw

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queen-scribbles · 4 years ago

Text

Shepherd’s Honor

This oneshot brought to you by the mental image of Trouble carrying Trick piggyback that wouldn’t go away. :D Not that I tried all that hard.

----

Patrolling Haven was boring. Usually. Trick couldn’t say she cared much for how today chose to make itself an exception to that rule.

Namely the sharp, familiar pain that spiked through her right shin. It had her bracing one hand against a nearby wall for support even as her gaze tipped skyward.

Trouble must have heard her harsh breath in, because he stopped and swung around to look at her. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Trick said, not finding what she’d expected in her scan of the pale blue sky. She pushed away from the wall and fell in step next to him again, but only made it a few paces before a follow-up ache cramped her leg and made her flinch. “Okay, maybe something...”

Trouble shot her a look caught somewhere between confused and concerned. “What?”

“Well, first off, it’s gonna storm later,” she replied, leaning against his shoulder for support as she tried to shake out the cramping muscles.

That made him frown up at the cloudless sky. “How can you tell?”

“I’m magic,” Trick deadpanned, cautiously setting weight back on that leg.

Trouble snorted. “Shit, I know that. Seriously, Trick, how can you tell? An’ are you alright?”

“Yes, to the second,” she assured him when her leg held weight, “and short answer for the first is I broke my leg real bad when I was younger an’ now it aches when rain’s comin’.”

His nose wrinkled. “That’s... bad. But also kinda cool.”

She laughed. “Tell me about it; all in lookin’ for the silver lining. I don’t like that my leg hurts, but it really comes in handy to have a warning about that kinda thing when you’re debatin’ if you should move on from a town or stay put one more night.”

“I’ll bet.” He cocked his head. “You okay to keep going?”

Trick nodded. “Kinda hafta be, don’t I? We’re only halfway done.”

Trouble rolled his eyes. “Like I’d make you keep walkin’ on that leg if it was hurtin’ you that bad.”

“Sweet of you,” Trick laughed, flipping her braid back over her shoulder. “But it’s fine for now. I’ll let you know if that changes.”

He grinned and nudged her shoulder. “Promise?”

“Shepherd’s honor,” she grinned back. “I promise.”

They made it another quarter of the way before it changed. Not coincidentally, that was when the first dark storm clouds appeared on the horizon. Trouble noticed those two things in the opposite order Trick did; saw the clouds and turned to look at her.

She was limping, she knew, just noticeably, and flashed a sheepish smile. “It doesn’t hurt. Not that bad. Only thing that might be a problem is stairs.” The words had barely left her mouth when they reached the first (very long) flight of stairs back down to Ashtown and the Shepherd compound. “This just isn’t my day, is it?” she muttered wryly, and kicked a pebble off the top step.

Trouble scratched the back of his neck. “Want me to carry you?”

“What, like piggyback?” Trick snarked, touched by the offer but unsure how well it would work.

He shrugged. “’Less you wanna bang your head against the wall every few steps, that’s prob’ly the best way, dontcha think?”

“Yeah, but...”

He winked at her. “C’mon, Trick, you can’t be that heavy.”

Not for you, at least, she thought dryly. “It’s not that! I just know how fast carryin’ weight--any weight--can tire you out on stairs.”

Another shrug. “Better that than makin’ you walk on it.” Trouble grinned. “I’m not gonna drop you.”

Trick laughed. “Promise?”

His grin widened. “Shepherd’s honor.”

She only hesitated a couple seconds more. “Oh, fine.” It would be better than fumbling down on her own, no matter the loss of dignity. And they were pretty close in height, it was easy enough to wrap her arms around his neck and boost herself up. Trouble jokingly staggered sideways as he settled his grip under her legs.

“Muti,” Trick growled through a laugh as she freed one arm to punch his shoulder.

“Just teasin’,” Trouble promised with another grin.

“I know,” she said, resting her chin atop his head. His hair smelled like sun and charch and she smiled at the familiarity. “I’m good when you are.”

“Right.” He shifted ever so slightly so his hands were closer to the backs of her knees, and started down the steps.

It was trickier than either anticipated to keep their balance, but they managed to get to the bottom without killing themselves. There were two or three more similar flights to go, but Trick insisted on walking in between so Trouble could have a break. “It doesn’t hurt that much,” she promised. “More like a really strong cramp than anything.”

“You say that like it’s any better than your leg actually hurtin’.” he muttered.

“Trust me, it is,” she sighed, running one hand along her braid. I know from experience.

Trouble kicked a pebble, and they watched it skitter ahead of them. When they caught up to it, Trick kicked it further. This time it veered sideways when it ricocheted from the edge of a cobblestone and out of reach.

“So, how exactly didja break your leg so bad it helps you predict the weather?” he asked when they reached the next flight of stairs, longer and narrower and curving left.

Trick laughed as she hoisted herself up on his back again. “Oh, it was very exciting. I fell off a ladder.”

Trouble barked a disbelieving laugh of his own. “Really? That’s it?”

“Well, I may have been runnin’ from some people...” she allowed, tightening her grip when he started to turn and look at her. “Trouble, watch where you’re goin’.”

“Right, right.” He hesitated a beat. “Who were you runnin’ from?”

“You want the long version?” Trick chuckled. Even that wasn’t a terribly exciting story, in her opinion, but he was carrying her down steps without a word of complaint. She’d spin him any damn tale about herself he wanted.

“Sure, why not?” Trouble grunted, shifting his grip. “If you don’t mind, anyway.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” she promised, wriggling higher when she realized she was sort of strangling him in her current position. “So, there’s this merchant. Decided he wanted extra muscle for the trip from Capra to this town out near Lindell, which makes sense. He was offering good money and I needed work, so I signed up. It’s a pretty long trip, we had to scare off a couple groups of bandit, actually kill some mean-spirited critters, so I more than earned my lyss this time ‘round.”

“And?” Trouble prompted when she paused.

Trick snorted a laugh through her nose and rested her chin atop his head again. “And the kisich tried to weasel outta payin’ me. Dunno if he was just a skinflint or had something against Diminished or whatever, but when I stood my ground instead of cavin’ like he expected, his men went to force the issue and we had a... uh, scuffle.” She chuckled. “Got the mother of all beautiful black eyes from that scrap. Anyway, partway in, one gets the bright idea to taunt me with the coin purse holdin’ my pay. Guess he thought it would rile me up so I didn’t think straight. He forgot how hard I am to rile. And how quick I can be.” She grinned, her fingers digging into Trouble’s collar. “Punched him in the nose and took off with my money when he dropped it.”

Trouble snorted. “Lemme guess, they came after you.”

“Like yiwari after a rabbit,” Trick confirmed, sliding off his back as they reached the bottom of the stairs. “But I had a really good head start.” Her leg cramped and she glanced up at the much closer storm clouds. “And I made it even bigger ‘cause the outskirts of the town had the houses all built close together, y’know, where you can jump pretty easy roof to roof?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“There was a ladder to the roof every so many houses, so I went up the first one I found and zigzagged my way along the outskirts, jumpin’ alleys an’ hidin’ a couple times ‘til I lost ‘em.”

“Good thing you didn’t fall,” Trouble commented

“Oh, very good,” Another of those silver linings. Trick agreed wryly, scanning the side streets they passed for anything off. It seemed all clear. “Would not have been pretty.”

“Why didn’t ya just tell somebody that kisich was tryin’ to cheat ya?”

She snorted. “Maybe I woulda if I weren’t so obviously Diminished.” She watched his gaze flick to her hair, then back to the street. “They had an.... unlovey reputation regarding how they treated my kind.”

“Oh.” Trouble cracked his knuckles. “I’da kicked their asses. The merchant’s men, I mean.”

“I know,” Trick said with a smile, bumping her shoulder to his(harder than she’d meant to, her limp was getting worse). “If I’d had you backin’ me, I mighta gone for that myself. As it was, I didn’t really wanna fight them. Not there. Just wanted my money. An’ I got that.”

This last stretch of road was a short one, and they reached the final flight of stairs much more quickly than the previous ones. The clouds were actually starting to dim the sun as Trick climbed up on Trouble’s back again, and she hoped the approaching storm held off long enough for them to reach the compound.

“So where this ladder you fell off figure in?” Trouble prompted as he started down the steps.

“Right.” Trick pulled her attention off the sky and back to her story. “Getting down. I waited a good... half hour in my last hidin’ spot to make sure they were gone. The sun was startin’ to set when I finally felt safe comin’ out; the shadows kept me from seeing the, uh, condition of the closest ladder. The wood was all dry-rotted, fourth or fifth rung down broke the second I put weight on it. I fell maybe fifteen feet? Somethin’ like that.”

Trouble gave a low whistle. “Ouch.”

“Tell me about it, I’m lucky my leg’s the only thing I broke. But it was bad enough to more than make up for being the only damage--bone ripped through the skin and everything.”

“What didja do?” he asked, boosting her higher as she started to slide.

“Limped--well, hobbled is prob’ly better--around til I found a healer. Fortunately didn’t take too long,” she shrugged. “Hadn’t scrapped together enough know-how to fix somethin’ that bad for myself yet.” She wiggled her finger significantly and snorted. “Barely had twenty lyss to my name after payin’ the man. And even with his help, it still scarred real nasty. ‘Bout this long.” She let go with one hand to hold thumb and index finger four or five inches apart in demonstration. “An’ now I have a surefire way of tellin’ when it’s gonna” --a fat, wet droplet hit the back of her neck and made her flinch--”rain.”

Trouble swore as they reached the bottom of the steps and he let her down. “Was hopin’ we’d make it back ‘fore that got here,” he admitted as rain freckled both their shirts.

“You and me both,” Trick said wryly. She grabbed his wrist. The compound was in view down the the far end of the street. “C’mon, if we hurry, maybe we can at least avoid getting completely drenched.”

He laughed and let her tug him into motion, but was nice enough to not outpace her when her limp slowed her down. Which meant they both got drenched when the skies opened up just before they made it through the Shepherd compound gates.

Trouble swore again, but he was grinning when they ducked under the cover of the entrance and he shook water from his hair like a dog.

“Sorry,” Trick said through a laugh, only slightly sheepish, and squeezed water from her braid. “But thanks for the help. And stickin’ with me.”

“Don’t mention it,” he winked, thumping her on the back with one hand while he raked hair out of his eyes with the other. “It’s what you do for friends.”

“Still.” She lightly punched his shoulder. “I appreciate it. And I appreciated even more that you didn’t drop me.”

“Hey, I promised, didn’t I?” Trouble said with a laugh. “Shepherd’s honor an’ all.”

“And I’ve encountered enough people who didn’t keep their word to make me appreciate when someone does.” Trick glanced toward the courtyard, rain now falling in sheets. “You know we still have to make it across that to get to our rooms, right?”

Trouble’s grin widened. “Need another ride?”

Trick’s leg twinged even as thunder rumbled and she snorted a laugh. “Wouldn’t turn it down.”

““Alright, then.”

Neither of them cared if anyone saw their pell-mell run through the downpour for the dormitory wing of the compound, Trick’s arms locked around Trouble’s neck and both laughing the whole way. Trouble kicked the door shut behind them and Trick tightened her grip in a backwards sort-of hug before sliding off.

“Thanks, Trouble,” she grinned, bumping her shoulder to his.

“Welcome, Trick,” he returned, also grinning as he returned the shoulder bump before they headed for their rooms to dry off.

Trick found herself smiling as she stripped off her wet clothes--and not just because her gun had escaped getting wet. While her leg flaring up and then getting rained on wouldn’t have been her first choice for how to break the monotony of patrol, at least handling it with a friend--especially one strong enough to carry her--had kept it from being entirely awful.

Honestly, she had to admit as she dried off and reached for fresh clothes, it had almost (almost) been fun.

#queens fic #shepherds of haven #elyana trick #trouble alder #shoh #not really shippy bc neither of these goofballs has started falling yet #(not that they'll REALIZE when they start falling #she's at least as oblivious as him)

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pinkchanelbag-moved · 5 years ago

Note

ooo can you write something based on the song ex by kiana ledé for zion plsss?

this got SO long omlll umm enjoy the angst! i didnt proofread this so dont come for me if its messy

---

ex - z.k.

i don’t wanna be your ex

we’re way too good at being friends

your stomach trembled as your friends pulled you into the overflowing party house. the immediate onslot of smells—alcohol, sweat, pot—made your nose crinkle, and the thrumming base snaked through your ears and embedded itself into your ears. everything felt wrong; after having spent two straight weeks in your room surrounded by pillows and tissues, this scene felt too foreign to be considered enjoyable.

“just give it a chance,” your friend’s low voice broke through the noise. you turned to look at her desperately. she squeezed your shoulder and began nudging you past the foyer and into the living room where people bumped around, dancing, talking, laughing. another one of your girlfriends linked your arm in hers and began leading you off to find drinks, but you watched the room, trying to steady your breaths. already you were getting looks, and you could guess that at least a few knew who you were, which would mean they knew what happened. and now you had to put on your fun face. you would pretend like you were healing healthily from your breakup, that things happened for a reason, and that no matter what, you would never forget yourself because of someone. you would live that lie for the night until you could go home.

you trailed behind your friends as they collected their drinks and found an empty part of a couch to sit on for a moment. you were the first to sit down, calmer than before but not quite ready to have fun. the girls began glancing at where the party goers danced near the centre of the room, although none made a move.

“guys,” you said. “don’t let me ruin your night. dance. imma try to join you in a bit, i’m just not up for it yet.”

after some arguing, you saw to it that your friends reluctantly made their way to the dance floor. you sighed and sipped your can of beer. the taste repulsed you for a moment, but you let it slide down your throat as bitterness set into your stomach.

at least being here meant that you had to stay composed, which gave you time to think properly. unfortunately, your thoughts were utterly unhelpful.

just ‘cause it’s different, no we’re not the same

doesn’t mean things have to change

i got no trouble with my pride

got trouble cutting ties

you tried to put aside the fact that you missed him in a heart aching, shattering kind of way. you missed zion so much that envisioning him in your head made the hand holding your beer falter for a moment, nearly spilling. you tried your best to put that aside, hard as it was. the fact of the matter was that the breakup wasn’t over something terminal, like cheating. you just didn’t have time for each other anymore, and it made you worse for each other. thinking of it now, it felt so stupid, so completely idiotic. you were perfect for each other as people. more than that, he was perfect. a lump formed in your throat at the thought. yes, he was perfect. and maybe he hadn’t been the person you wanted him to be leading up to the breakup, and maybe you would never feel the same way about him as you did when everything was going well, but that didn’t blind you from seeing how good of a person he was. the fact that you would have to lose such a perfect human being seemed outrageous. you raked your mind for any way that you’d be able to keep zion in your life. you understood, albeit painfully, that you could never work romantically. but that didn’t mean you had to lose him, did it? all the good times you had together weren’t necessarily based on romance. fast food runs, beach trips, sing along car rides, lazy days. you couldn’t imagine not having those with him anymore. and other things, too; days where you wouldn’t even leave the apartment, where your legs would be weak all day from his work on you, the places his mouth touched you. what kind of life would you have without those things?

your thoughts broke as a laughing and clearly wasted girl backed up into you, actually causing your beer to spill down your shirt. you hissed at the cold, barely registering her sloppy apologies.

“it’s fine,” you said, putting down the can and getting up to find a bathroom. you shoulder past molds of people and sour breath and take two turns down a corridor before arriving to a long dark hallway where the music was slightly muffled. you spotted two people waiting in front of a door and heard the flush of a toilet and took your place in line for the bathroom. before long, you made it in and pulled off your shirt and bra and tried as much as possible to rinse away the stickiness from your chest. you cursed as the water droplets tucked themselves into the hem of your skirt and splashed on your legs. after some time, you dried off with a guest towel and threw it in the tub, redressed, and opened the door.

the lined had been renewed considering how long you’d taken. you scanned to count the heads and felt your heartbeat stop at a tall head of dreads halfway through the line. your light touch on the wall suddenly turned into a tight grip as the head turned. the facial structure, the lips, the blond hair, and the eyes, all things you knew. your chest heaved like an empty vomit as those lazy eyes caught yours and froze.

“excuse me,” you distantly heard the person in front of you say, shouldering past you into the bathroom. the words echoed for a moment before they reached your ears. when they did, you found your flight response. you looked away, turned around, and walked stiffly down the dark hallway, turning the first doorknob you felt under your fingertips.

in the black room, you breathed, low and long, until the tears began dripping to your cheeks.

you didn’t want to let him go, no matter the circumstance.

it came like an epiphany, a eureka moment. you didn’t want him to be a part of your past. more importantly, you didn’t want to be a part of his. something for him to bury inside him and only talk about on late nights with someone new. someone that wouldn’t be you. the thought made you gasp as you took two quick steps forward. things were different, but you knew that one thing that wouldn’t change was your need to have him there for you. maybe you could learn to live without the romance, the love, but to lose him, zion, seemed like an atrocity no one should have to bear.

you jumped at the sound of the door opening behind you, and then again to see who it was.

he nudged the door half shut before turning to you. he looked…nervous? startled? maybe the exact way you looked. your mind was trying to comprehend so many things at once that it didn’t do a thing.

“uh…” he said in a small voice. the sentence ended there. he swallowed before trying to start a new one. “you okay?”

soft light from the hallway defined the curve of his jaw and the lines of his dreads, but that was all you could see. almost like a dream, like you were just talking to a shadow.

“i don’t know” you whispered to the silhouette after some time. some moments passed before you decided to speak again, deciding that whatever pride you had left was not important enough to ruin whatever you had left of your relationship. “i…i don’t wanna lose you.”

you didn’t see him react, but you knew his eyes were on you, and that knowledge reminded you that he wasn’t a shadow. he was real, standing in front of you. that heart wrenching feeling of missing him found its way back to your chest. was he not yours? in some manner of speaking? maybe you weren’t his girlfriend anymore, maybe you weren’t even in love with him anymore, but in some way, your heart still belonged to him, and his to you, and that should precede labels or circumstances.

he crept closer, and it was enough. you found your way to each other. his arms came around you almost as soon as his lips touched yours. your hands held his face with a slight tremble. his warmth felt so familiar that new tears of relief pricked your eyes. your thumbs caressed he wet of tears on his own face as his hands came up into your hair.

you didn’t come apart for some time, but once your lips left his, you heard it. the thumping of the beat, the buzz of other people just outside. you felt like a ghost in the arms of the man who was meant to make you feel alive. you understood the mistake you had just made.

you released a breath of absolute pain. zion seemed to understand when you drifted out of his hold, his arms loose and idle, letting you go. you didn’t look anywhere but the floor as you left the room and rolled your lips together to stop them from tingling. with hazy eyes, you found your way back to the living room, and then eventually to the front door, until you were walking down the sidewalk of the foreign neighbourhood with your arms clasped around yourself, your heart feeling freshly cut open.

never again. you would never go back to him again, because leaving him every time would hurt more than the last.

#zion #zion kuwonu imagine #zion kuwonu x reader #nad.txt

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alj4890 · 5 years ago

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Love/Lust Prompt

(Thomas x Amanda) with the prompt of the two beginning their relationship by meeting for the first time in a bar that results in a night spent together as requested by Anonymous

(Thomas Hunt x oc*Amanda) a Red Carpet Diaries Fan Fiction

A/N This isn't a part of my AU's and I had to think what would possibly drive them to this impulsive act. I have it in my mind that they both overthink situations and rarely do something spontaneous when with someone they don't know. So this was an interesting challenge. Hope this is what you asked for Anonymous. It gets a little steamy in spots 😉. Oh and I borrowed Daniel from The Royal Romance for this. I needed a sweet bartender.

@lxaah11 @alleksa16 @penguininapinktuxedo @blackcoffee85 @stopforamoment @krsnlove @annekebbphotography @cora-nova @bella-ca @hopelessromantic1352. @sunflowergirl05 @desiree-0816 @greywitchyshots @lilyofchoices @emceesynonymroll @dr-nancy-house @aworldoffandoms @pixieferry @lolablackwrites @flyawayboo @i-bloody-love-drake-walker.

Masterlist

On a Whim

It's none of my business, Thomas thought. He picked up his glass and took a sip. He should have returned to his suite and ordered a bottle of scotch from room service instead of coming to the hotel bar. He glanced again at the woman sitting across the room.

Her face. It was so full of uncertainty. She was alone and he had noticed her as soon as she came in. She was currently nursing her fourth drink. Each time she ordered a refill she seemed so guilty, so in need of something. Forgiveness, perhaps? Maybe encouragement?

She had already smiled and kindly discouraged one man from joining her when she first entered. Then another man had come up. Shock and recognition flickered across her face when he sat down across from her. Then came the painful anger. Words were spoken quickly and quietly between the two. The man downed his drink, stood, and finished with a sentence that caused the equalivent of a gut punch to her.

He had left her staring at his retreating form with a mixture of relief and trepidation. Thomas watched as a bartender made her a stronger drink and brought it to her. She had smiled softly and thanked him. She remained in her booth, taking sips and occasionally pushing a lock of hair behind her ear.

She was lost in thought and Thomas wished he knew what it was. He was surprised. He rarely suffered with this much curiosity about some random person. He also rarely kept his attention for so long on someone he didn't know.

He wanted to find out who she was. Why was she so uncertain? Why did she continue to sit by herself when she could have anyone here?

He motioned to the bartender to freshen his drink. Then he made his way over to her booth.

Amanda listened to the sultry jazz music drift through a nearby speaker. She took a gulp of the old fashioned Daniel had made for her and grimaced. Of all the people she could have run into in New York, why did it have to be Jeremy?

Her messy breakup with him months earlier had left him bitter and resentful and yet, he had been the one caught cheating on her. If anyone should have been bitter, it should be her. All she felt was a lightness of spirit once she was freed of their relationship. She was happy and looking forward to what came next. Then he popped back into her life for a brief moment of torture. His angry accusations began as soon as he ignored her wish to be left alone.

He said that it was all her fault. He wouldn't have needed another woman if she had truly met his needs. He then hit her in all the areas he knew she was most insecure. He told her she wasn't sexy enough to drive a man wild with passion, nowhere near adventurous enough in life. She barely could hold onto any man with her dull personality.

Amanda suffered with the debilitating handicap of only thinking of snappy comebacks once a verbal assault was over. She could come up with some that would have drawn blood, if she could have thought of them in the moment. All she could do while he insulted her was stare in shock. Why on earth had he wanted to date her in the first place if she was so unattractive? Once he had his say, she was left alone with her thoughts.

When no man approached her after that, she started to think Jeremy had been right. She must be undesirable. By her fourth drink, she considered leaving and finding someone who didn't know her to ask their opinion. She needed to know if she was a hopeless case. She certainly felt like one.

"Excuse me?"

She looked up at the tall, dark, and faintly familiar man and waited.

"Mind if I sit here?" He motioned to the seat she was sitting on.

He's very handsome, she thought. Even though she was not normally attracted to men with beards, there was something about him that made her nod. "Not at all." She picked up her things and scooted around the curved corner booth.

Thomas slid in, leaving a space between them. "I don't mean to interrupt your solitude but I couldn't help but notice that you seem troubled. Unhappy."

Amanda finished off the rest of her glass. She set it down and met Thomas's concerned gaze. "I'm not unhappy. Well, perhaps a little. More it was what he said that has me thinking this way. It can't be true, can it?" She realized she was rambling and leaned closer to Thomas. "May I ask you something?"

He nodded, already fascinated with her. His curiousity was growing by leaps and bounds.

She reached for her glass and frowned when she noticed nothing but ice. The bartender brought her another and she smiled. "Thank you so much, Daniel."

"That's it for tonight, Amanda." He told her gently. "Riley will send someone to kill me if something happens because of this."

Amanda laughed and promised she wouldn't tell on him. She noticed Thomas watching her closely through the exchange. She cleared her throat and summoned the unusually large amount of courage she had at the moment. It had to be the drinks. "Please, be honest. Don't say what you think I wish to hear. I need the truth more than kindness." She waited on his agreement before asking. "As a man, do you,” she closed her eyes briefly before looking into his eyes, “think I have sex appeal?”

His eyebrows lifted. She's asking my opinion? Was she fishing for compliments? He studied her eyes and expression. He saw no guile. He leaned back against the cushions and slowly nodded. "I do."

"So you find me attractive?" She further inquired, to make certain he understood what she was asking.

He set his elbows on the table and leaned forward, focusing his intense gaze upon her. "I happen to find you very attractive." He was surprised just how much he did now that he was close enough to clearly see her in the dim light.

She stared directly in his eyes. He really is so sexy, she thought. She licked her upper lip after taking another drink and noticed his eyes drop down to her mouth. He picked up his own glass and paused halfway to his lips.

"I'm Thomas." He observed her closely, wondering if she knew who he was.

Her thoughtful expression eased and she held her hand out. "Amanda."

He slowly smiled at being unknown. How many women had tried to seduce him for a part in one of his films? A chance to boost their image? This one, if he was reading her right, was seducing him strictly for himself.

"So, are you in town for business or pleasure?" He asked.

She smiled and cut her eyes to him. "Strictly pleasure for the rest of this trip. I finished the business last night."

His lips curved and he stretched his arm across the back of their seat. He toyed with a lock of her hair when she relaxed against his arm. "Do you have any plans for your time here?"

Amanda shook her head. "This is one vacation where I want to go completely against my own inclinations." Her eyes twinkled while her lips firmed in a line. "I am going to decide things on a whim."

He chuckled at the determination on her face. "You're a planner at heart?"

Her laughter at herself drew him closer to her. "I am. I suppose that seems dull to most people."

Thomas slid his fingers down her shoulder. "I'm a planner." He admitted. "I have trouble stepping back and allowing things to simply happen."

She reached under the table and patted his leg in comiseration. "It's difficult isn't it? Relinquishing control and letting fate have its way." She wrinkled her nose. "I hate surprises."

He watched her long lashes cast shadows on her cheeks in the soft glow of candlelight. He slightly turned toward her. "Not all surprises are bad."

She looked up at him and broke into a shy smile. "I suppose not." Her eyes traced his features and stopped at his lips. "Every once in a while a surprise comes along and is all you could hope for."

He leaned his head down and paused right before touching her lips. His dark eyes focused on hers. "What do you hope for right now?"

Her breath hitched when the back of his fingers slowly slid down her cheek. He waited, his heart picking up speed as anticipation hung heavy between them.

Amanda swallowed and closed the distance. Her lips pressed softly against against his. He followed her lead then took over the kiss when she her hand curved at the nape of his neck. He continued slowly caressing her cheek as the kiss came to an end.

They were breathless as they looked at each other. Questions they wanted to ask, yet couldn't think how to phrase the words, remained unspoken. Their lips met again and again as they felt the sexual tension grow at an alarming rate.

Thomas couldn't believe the words that tumbled out of his mouth. "Would you like to get out of here? Go back to one of our rooms?" His lips brushed her neck before returning to hers. Her smell. The taste and feel of her skin. She was fueling his blood with heady desire. He couldn't think of anything other than being alone with her.

"Yes." Amanda mumbled into his kiss. "I would like that."

Her mind screamed at her. Is this because of what Jeremy said? You never have one night stands! Never! Have you lost all caution and common sense? You don't know this man! His name probably isn't even Thomas! Didn't you just watch Dateline last night about that woman who went off with that man she just met and he ki--

She pushed those thoughts away. Whoever this man was, she wanted to be with him. If it was for an hour or the entire night she wanted this. Needed to feel his touch. She rarely felt an instant attraction to someone. She was not going to return alone to her room and imagine what might have been. She was going to experience and hold onto every moment. She was going to indulge that adventurous side. If she had one...

There was just one thing she had to get off her chest before she worried over it. "Thomas, I...I have never done something like this before. I don't know the proper protocol for... Who's room should we go to? I..." She lowered her eyes as her cheeks turned darker with embarrassment.

Thomas tilted her chin up and tenderly kissed her. "I understand." He waited until she lifted her eyes before continuing. "We'll go to your room."

She pressed a sweet kiss to his cheek. "Thank you."

He slid out of her booth and took her hand.

Daniel kept his concerns to himself when Thomas settled her bar tab and his. He watched them leave arm and arm together and decided he would check on her in the morning. He didn't care how famous the guy was. Daniel was still going to look out for the young duchess.

In the brighter light of the elevator, Thomas noticed the places he kissed her were red and irritated. The beard he had been growing the last couple of weeks was causing it. He gently touched the marks, then hit his floor number

"Let's stop at my room first." He gently kissed the spots. "I need to shave. I can't have anything hurting you."

Amanda closed her eyes at how sweet that was. To offer to do that for a stranger, one he would never see again... She cupped his face and kissed him, infusing every bit of unspoken feeling into it.

Thomas sank into her embrace. He was amazed at the overwhelming need to protect her, even from himself. It wasn't that she was vulnerable. He knew that wasn't it or he would never have suggested this. He didn't believe in taking advantage of people when they were truly at their lowest. No, it was more her honest reactions to his words and touch that he wanted to protect.

They walked into his suite and he left her in the living room. He hesistated when he pulled his shaving kit out, wondering if this would cause her to recognize him. Would she still find him attractive? Would this alter what they were both wanting?

He rubbed shaving cream over his chin, upper lip, and jaw. He removed the coarse hair with quick decisive strokes of his razor. He pressed a cool damp towel to his face and looked in the mirror at the results. Thomas summoned the pleasant thought of what was ahead of him and left the bathroom.

I want her, he thought when he saw her. He walked up behind her as she looked out the vast set of windows along the wall of his suite. He leaned down and pressed his lips to her neck while his hands explored the curves and hollows of her body.

His hands came around pulling her completely flush against him. Her head dropped back on his shoulder as his seduction began to cause the flames within her to spiral even higher.

She turned in his embrace and looked up at him in the muted glow from the lights of the city outside. Something about him was so familiar. She just couldn't place where she knew him from. She ignored the puzzeling thought and focused on the fact that he was even more handsome than before. Her fingers brushed the smooth skin along his jaw and she smiled when he pressed a kiss into her hand.

"Better?" His deep voice made her feel even more turned on.

"Very." She gasped when his lips slammed into hers. Each nip, caress, and suck had her gripping him to her.

He lifted his head and gave her another chance. "Do you want to stop?"

She shook her head no.

He closed his eyes briefly. "Your room...let's go."

She somehow got her shaky legs to walk back to the elevators. Thomas kept his arm around her, teasing her with his lips on her ear and neck. She hit the button to the next floor up. The doors opened and they walked down the long hallway, pausing every few feet to lean against the wall and succumb to the volatile kisses they were unable to stop from occurring.

With his tantalizing lips soothing a tender spot on her neck, she was able to get her door open on the third try. Once they were inside, they gave in to trying to get each other out of their clothes.

Her fingers attacked the buttons of his shirt and pants, while his fumbled with the zipper to her dress. Both groaned in frustrated excitment as they fought to win each encounter while kissing. Amanda won against getting his shirt off before he could her dress. Her fingers slowly outlined each muscle of his chest and back while her lips continued to drive him mad.

Thomas broke away from her kiss and turned her around. He managed to push the dress down and off of her. His hands moved over her skin, heating it to a fevered pitch while his lips explored all that the dress had concealed.

"Take me to your bedroom." He whispered in her ear. He felt her tremble in his arms and kissed her tenderly.

She stepped out of his embrace and laced her fingers with his. She led him to her bed and moaned as he let go of the final thread of control he had been holding in a vise like grip.

They were frantic to get as close as they could to each other. Each kiss, every touch was met with encouraging moans and whispered words of how perfect the other was. The rest of their clothes were ripped off leaving them skin to skin as they laid in her bed.

Thomas paused for the final time. His heart was slamming in his chest as he looked into her eyes. "Amanda? Do you still want--"

"I want you, Thomas." She breathed out. Her hands moved up his body and gently craddled his face. She pressed a loving kiss to his mouth that held nothing but promises. He nearly shook with his need to make her his in every fashion.

He quickly slipped protection on before making himself one with her. The sounds and movments from her drove him on to cause more to come. He looked down at her, thinking he had never seen anyone so beautiful in the throes of passion. She met his eyes and the hint of a smile on her lips brought out his confession of how she drove him crazy with desire for her.

Their lips met as their movements increased in speed and intensity. She clung to him, tears coming to her eyes as the sensations built between them. His name burst breathlessly from her lips as he sank down into her with his own groan of her name.

They laid there, side by side, and attempted to bring needed oxygen into their bodies. Thomas turned his head to look at her. She did the same to him and softly smiled. He took her hand and kissed it, flattening it against his thudding heart.

He finally rolled toward her and pulled her into his arms. Their lips met in a lingering kiss. He lifted his eyes to hers and sighed. Thomas didn't want to leave her.

Amanda studied his face and noticed the longing that matched her own. "I'm not sure if I am supposed to suggest this, but would you like to stay the night?"

His lips eased and he kissed her. "Yes." He smoothed her hair off her face and pulled her closer. The simple feeling of her skin against his was already causing him to desire her even more than he had earlier. Her hands were tracing soothing circles on his back, making him imagine other places they touched perfectly.

He whispered how much he wanted her and felt immense satisfaction come over him at her passionate response.

The second time was spent learning every aspect of each other in slow caresses and deep, thorough kisses. The longing words spoken sparked emotions that neither anticipated. They held each other tight as the waves of bliss rolled over them.

Late the next morning, Amanda woke with Thomas curled up behind her. His arm held her close to him as he slept. She carefully turned over, so as not to disturb him, to get a better look at him in the morning light. After the dim lights and slight buzz from the alcohol, she was curious about the man she had spent the night with. She felt her heartbeat skip somewhat at how handsome he--

"Thomas Hunt!"

His eyes cracked open at hearing her strangled whisper. He smiled softly and closed them again. His eyes flew open when he realized she had said his last name.

She stared at him. Flabbergasted barely scratched the surface of how she felt. How? How did I not know I ended up with one of Hollywood's sexiest last night? Why isn't he with one of those starlets that puts models to shame with their beauty?

"Good morning." He said, slowly stretching

"Good..." Good lord he shouldn’t do that around people. Much too handsome. She took a deep breath to calm down. "Good morning."

His arm curved around her and pulled her closer for a kiss. He looked into her eyes and decided to try for what he now wanted.

"I know last night you said you didn't want to make plans for this trip." He began, running featherlight caresses along her collar bone and then dipping in at the cleavage before returning back to her shoulders.

Her eyes were wide as she waited on him to say more.

"Would you possibly, on a whim," his lips deepened into a brief teasing smile, "like to have dinner with me tonight?"

"You want to have a date? With me?" She asked.

"I do, very much so." He replied while rolling over on top of her. His lips traveled up and down her neck. "I would like a chance to know you."

She swallowed and thought about how much she wanted to be with him. This wasn't supposed to happen though. Last night was supposed to be a single night of mind blowing passion. And oh my, it was. It wasn't meant to go any further, was it?

Thomas lifted his head and met her eyes. She saw the same vulnerability she herself struggled with in the dark depths. Her lips eased into a shy smile. "I would love to have dinner with you."

His kiss took her breath away. She slipped her arms around his neck, enjoying his body on hers. He set his forehead against hers when the kiss ended. She caressed his cheek and felt a sweet warmth in her chest as he pressed a kiss to her palm.

"I was thinking of ordering room service." She bit her lip before finishing her question and pushed her uncertainty aside. "Would you like to stay and eat breakfast with me?"

He kissed her again and nodded. "Yes." He got up and held his hand out. She took it and laughed when he yanked her into his arms. He smoothed her hair out of her face.

"Since you recognized who I am," his lips brushed against hers as he spoke, "who are you?"

"Amanda Bridgerton." She answered.

"And where are you from?" He asked.

"A small European country that most haven't heard of." She explained.

"What is it called?" He persisted.

"Cordonia." She chuckled when his eyes lit with recognition. "I should have known you would know it."

"I do." He smiled after stealing another kiss. "I look forward to learning more about you on our dates."

Her eyebrow lifted. "I think you mean date."

Thomas pressed his lips against her cheek. "I said exactly what I meant, Ms. Bridgerton. One date with you will not be nearly enough for me."

#thomas hunt x oc #Thomas Hunt #thomas hunt x amanda #red carpet diaries #choices red carpet diaries #rcd thomas hunt

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datarevived · 4 years ago

Text

– Ⅵ : ʟᴇᴀʀɴ ʙʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʟᴠᴇs PT.2

" You know, I can not believe you some times. " " Mhmm... " " On some days, you're gloomy as a cloud, and others? You're high as a kite and face flat in a poor wolf's coat! " " ...Isso'fluffy... " " If we stay here much longer, he'll draft us in you know. " " Nnnnnnnnnn... " " Selene. " " Nnnnnnn!!hnhnnnnn. "

" You're worrying the dog, " Bex's voice came further disgruntled, the Exo standing few feet away from the portrait that was the Awoken latched and dug into a laying wolf nearly equal to her size. The creature having found itself comfortable in shade, just beneath a canopy tent that sat to the right of ceremonial torches and gong - the notorious Titan, known as the last remaining Iron Lord, standing before its' display and surrounded by a handful of other individuals. A second wolf, just as mighty, sitting at his side with amber eyes seeking like a predator to anyone who moved wrong.

" Either that, or its' partner there is going to get jealous of the attention, " the Exo nudged, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder. The statement retracting the Awoken's face from snow-white pelt, a look of pure euphoria painted over starry freckles as she reaches a hand between its' ears, giving in a farewell ruffle before sitting up straight in her own space.

" Ah come on, don't tell me you've never wanted to pet a wolf, " Selene grinned, thoroughly content with their primary objective. The act of crossing legs and grabbing her ankles with both hands shadowing the attempt to move anytime soon.

" Oh, but I have, " arms crossed at the Warlock's chest - if he had features to do so, he would have retaliated with his own smirk. " Plenty, actually. Dogs, cats, birds - "

" -- You can't pet a bird. "

" Get close enough to one and try it, then! You can totally pet a bird, " he snarls, rolling his optics. " Point is, I've done a lot of things - plenty of things. Many things. Even petting birds. "

" Eh, that's cheating, " Selene shook her head, rolling her own eyes as she glanced over towards the crowd. The perspective of being flat on the floor even more daunting to their various sizes and armor -- planting that of a child in the wake of giants. " You're like a hundred years old or somethin'. Got all that fancy experience and wisdom under those robes of yours. "

" Hundreds' being relatively generous, " he mutters.

" Yeah? I can only imagine what that means for others, " she laughs. Attention thriving on the focus of people, voices belonging to too many making it difficult to match those who still wore their helmets in person. A moderate surprise to the many that were standing around waiting, patiently expecting the first match of the Banner to be called sooner than later. Even the Crucible match-maker, himself, stood nearer the Iron Lord in short banter and exchange of words. An exchange she was not looking forward to in theory, eventually needing to close her end of the deal.

" It's not... too bad, right? "

" What? Iron Banner? "

" No... like, the regular stuff. Crucible. "

" Whaaat? Nah, places' a playfield. Lord Shaxx keeps everyone on their A-Game and safety above all else, " Bex explained, sunset orbs meeting the conversation with its' topic. " It's meant to get Guardians in shape, anyway. Especially before bigger forces like the Red War and stuff. Woulda been great to have around back in the days, instead of just having to wing it, y'know? "

" I guess. "

" Don't worry on it too much! I'm sure you'll be in and out before ya'know it anyway. Lucky if you even get on the scoreboard by the end of it. Maybe y'got that beginners luck, " he shoots a thumbs up, optics canny of a risen smile.

The Hunter's gaze unfortunately occupied elsewhere to recognize it - the familiar burn of blue and white catching the corner of her eye amongst the sea of people. The blonde who had been enraged before, the flaps of his Mark catching the wind as he fast-paced walked from one end of the balcony to the other, heading nearer the Bazaar with no intentions for a pit-stop. An ever-curious pull, unwarranted and indescribable. Selene pulls herself to her feet with uncertainty, stumbling a moment to catch her footing before turning back towards Bex.

" Did you see that? "

" Uhhh... see what? "

" The guy from earlier, " she points, though shadow long gone that the man ever existed.

" The... who? What, the guy with Zavala? "

" Yeah, he - " before she could finish the thought, the sudden texture of fur meets beneath her hands, giving the Awoken a spook before looking down at the canine who preoccupied her time moments before. Its' muzzle, pointed in the direction of which she pointed, nose wrinkled in a sniff and short growl in its' throat before the wolf paces forward. It goes to the end of the balcony where stairs meet towards the Bazaar before sitting in question, eyes hampered upon the duo as if waiting for them to follow.

" I'll uh... I'll be right back, " Selene waves, motioning Bex to remain there while she followed. A spacious look of confusion now drawn across the Exo's faceplate, stunned a moment before raising both his hands in question. As if just like that, his friend had made better partner of a dog than he.

How... tragic.

"Told'ya Screws, was over before it even started! "

- - -

Voices began to dull as air became less polluted with noise the further down the two traveled. The wolf continuing its' march before halting just before the curve of a doorway, sitting in stance as tail curls towards its' feet, ears pointed high. For all that she could, Selene merely followed in silence - blindly, unawares of what nature the creature had in store. She couldn't bring herself to question it - only that she knew she had to. A special feeling deep in her gut, that it would be worthwhile to solve secondary mystery before hunting down the man in blue and white.

What she did not recognize, however, was the the mystery would be two in the same. A series of voices ringing out from the other side of the arch, echoing against the brief metal pipes that lined the ceiling of the inner corridors to the Tower. One of the halls that led into storage rooms that had been plugged as living rooms, such as hers given to her by Hawthorne. Falling unaware to the fact she would be involuntarily spying on someone.

A duo of men, by the sounds.

" If the Hidden are correct in their suspicion, this is too dangerous to go alone-- " " It's too dangerous to be left alone, and too high a risk to bring more lives than necessary. " " And what, your life will suffice? What of you if you die like the rest? " " I won't. " " And you can be so sure? What happens, then? That you find out the truth and cannot bring it back with you? Reckless and shallow? " " I'm going to find answers, and that will lead us further to where we need to be. " " You're being too brash about this Val. I beg of you, just listen to Zavala and- " " I did not come here for your pleads, Vellguine! " " Then why did you come?! "

The shouts having rung the halls like thunder, they send a shake through her spine and wince of features against the tension. Hunkered over, her hands instinctively grab back at the pelt of her guide, lightly squeezing in speechless vain as she continued to listen.

" ...I came because we know better than anyone, that we don't always get what we want. " " Valdourin... please. " " I don't intend to go down as easily. But we cannot always prevent the unexpected... You're the last I have left. I figured it only right to tell you up front. I owe you that, at least. "

The remains of the conversation falling dull, a stalemate between silence and muttered whispers, the wolf pulls from its' seat and nudges against the Awoken in company. As if auto-pilot, obliging in its' direction as she stands back to her height, hand still connected with pelt as the creature leads her back up the stairs and towards the wake of cheering Guardians.

She finds Bex not too far off from where she left him, now sitting on one of the benches near some of the gardening plants. Just beneath the canopy as fur leaves her hand to return to its' most comfort in the shade, a gentle nod offered in return for its' help as she sat next to the sulking Exo. They go without speaking for a few moments, she in process of what she just heard, and he, in childish tantrum, pouting like a poor fool.

-- Climbing boots catch Selene's ear from the side before she speaks, the blue and white Titan leaving the bay and heading through the Courtyard back to the Hanger. Valdourin.

" ...Hey Bex. What else do you know about the Ward? "

" . . . "

" . . .Bex? "

" . . .Not 'lot. "

" . . .I think we should talk to him. "

" . . .Why? "

" I just... have this feeling, " she turns in her seat, half expecting to come face to face with the Exo, had he not been hard-line staring at the horizon to his right. Arms still crossed against his chest, muted expression cursed by unmovable parts. Yet tone alone told the story of a man -- and had it not been for his optics and uncanny eye-brows ( were they eyebrows? eyelids? shifty-bits? ), it gave enough character to reflect that of bias man-child. " ...Whats wrong with you? "

" Wrong with me? Nothing wrong with me. Nothing at all. Nada. Not a thaaaaaang. "

" -- ʜᴇ ᴅᴏᴇs ɴᴏᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ʟᴇғᴛ ᴀʟᴏɴᴇ. "

The third voice of the bench, Screws, having popped toward Selene's left as she peered over upon Ghost. A raise of her own eyebrows at the response -- and Bex is suddenly looking her way. Well, Screws's way. Angry eye-squint-lids.

" And this is why I don't ask for your input! "

" You're upset I left you --? " Selene cracks, half in trying not to crack a contagious smile of laughter. " Oh, please! It was a stealth mission --! We woulda been toast if we both went! "

" Oh, but the dog can go. "

" I feel like the dog has a bit more common sense than the two of us combined. "

An audible huff -- optics slant in a lined stare before shaking his head rapidly and dropping arms from their stiffness. A few grumbles of inaudible words prowl the orange sensors in his plate before standing back up from the bench, extending a hand to the other reluctantly. She'd win this one.

" So - what do you think? " she asks, accepting the full invitation to stand.

" I think we should stay out of other peoples' business unless they make a good meal. "

" Well what if he cooks? "

" If he cooks something other than grenades that are thrown at the enemy with the next high score? Sure, we'll talk it out, " Bex sassed, nodding along with his words. " But until then -- I think it's a bad idea, and you're getting your head a bit too close to drowning. Keep it above water. "

" But he needs help -- I heard it, " Selene argues, tilting her head slight. " I don't know what he's doing but it's clearly something more than one person can handle. "

" And I can assure you, a guy like that? Has his own fireteam that is very capable. Now come on, Shaxx just signed up the next ring of Crucible. You're gonna miss out if we don’t get down there. "

" Beeex! "

" Talk it after the match, green leaf! Let's gooo~! "

#✦ ᴏʀɪɢɪɴ / drabble #destiny 2 short story #destiny 2 drabble #destiny 2 rp #d2 rp

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impossible-rat-babies · 5 years ago

Text

For the @dadrunkwriting monthly prompt “oh no we’re stuck here!” Funny enough most of this came from some very old writing I did back in 2016 that I’ve held onto for several years now. I changed a great deal of it around, but it’s still very interesting to compare between my writing skill then and now.

Pavellan | 2445 words | some character introspection really + pining

Elven ruins would be fun, he had said. On top of the searching for any references as to why Corphyeus was ransacking them all over Thedas, it would be fun to see a slice of history and ancient magic. Hopefully without any negative side effects, but luck was rarely if ever on their side. Dorian was kidding himself; luck was rarely on their sides, especially taking Darva anywhere. He was a magnet for anything and everything going wrong. It shouldn't have surprised him that much when they stepped into some little alcove--at his behest--that some magical switch or another would trigger and drop a rather large stone door over the entrance.

Sera had yelled, let out some ungodly sound with the cacophonous crash. Both Cassandra had tried to grab to lift it open, but it was a futile effort in the face of thousands of pounds of rock. He should have seen it coming, but hindsight was only kind in the pitch black dark and the sure feeling that they were completely and utterly stuck.

"This is the most excitement we've ever gotten out of these old ruins." Dorian grumbled, listening to Darva still fussing about the door, cursing under his breath. Dorian ran his hands down his face, a heavy sigh escaping him.

"Could be more exciting if you could make some light to see how much fun my face is having." Darva mumbled, abandoning the door to yank his helmet off. He shook his head, pulling down the wrap around his hair.

"Oh I'm sure it is utterly delightful." Dorian replied and Darva squinted at the sudden spot of flame in Dorian’s hand. It casted shadows across the whole of the small enclosed room and onto Darva’s scrunched up face.

"You look more like you're going to sneeze. And your hair is a mess." He noted and Darva huffed, tucking his helmet under his arm to ruffle his hair. It only served to make the curls poofier, which looked not unlike a strange bird nest on top of Darva’s head.

"You're impossible..." He muttered under his breath, turning back to the door. “At least Sera and Cass saw it happen, so hopefully they'll figure something out." He heaved and sigh and ran his fingers down his face.

"It was the magic that affected it, I’d wager...do we still have that bet going? On how your extraordinary bad luck is magical?" Dorian asked, a hint of cheekiness in his tone.

"My bad luck isn’t magical; it’s as you put once: you're simply a complete and utter fool a great deal of the time." Darva replied with a wave of his hand and Dorian rolled his eyes.

“You’re far too charming with your ability to make friends and be...friendly with everyone to be that much of a fool.” Dorian spoke and Darva chuckled, glancing over at him with his green eyes reflecting in the dim light.

“Do I have you all fooled then? Because it rather feels like the blind leading the blind.” Darva mocked him and Dorian scoffed.

They'd been traveling all across Thedas for months now, following threads of rumors on who was planning to kill the Empress and what was going on with the Wardens. Only slivers of leads, but a small lead was better than nothing, even if it took them to the strangest places. Deserts had left Sera with a terrible sunburn she whined about for weeks and sand still in the pockets and crevices of old gear. Many pairs of boots had been ruined by rain and mud seeping into the leather, others worn to the barest sole from sliding and skidding across rocky ground and putting one foot in front of the other. Countless whetstones and spare cloth had been used to sharpen daggers and swords alike; hundreds of broken bow strings had nearly costed Sera her eye, but each time it happened she laughed and got to work restringing her bow. There was little around but the four of them on the long treks, only the four of them to talk to, to keep entertained. There was only so much “sightseeing” one could do before it as mind numbing. Camps in the wilderness left little to entertain them beyond talking to each other or making a game to pass the time; none of them quite had Varric’s talent for stories, but Sera still tried and they were all plenty good enough at cards even with Darva cheating. Even more so after he had taught Sera how to cheat too.

It was a strange collection they had, the company that was presented as the Inquisition, but they were trying their best. It was all anyone could ask of them, all that could be asked of Darva.

“Best not let them hear you say that, or the facade of their great leader in shining armor would be ruined.” Dorian jested and Darva laughed.

“Yes, the wicked skill and integrity of a dalish elf with zero leadership experiences. They should all be disappointed.” Darva remarked, his tone skirting the line between jest and genuine self deprecation. A narrow line.

“You’re selling yourself awful short. I’ve never quite met a man so set on exploring ruins, even if they might kill you. A wondrous shame to die alongside you in a horrid ruin." Dorian spoke, letting the flame go. It rose up to the ceiling, casting a pale orange light all across the small alcove.

“At least dying would be for a good cause. You could be a martyr, Dorian! Even if your magic is the one to blame.” Darva joked, plopping down among the dirt and grime, examining and picking his nails.

"Hardly my fault if the ruins decide that magic isn’t their forte." He resigned himself and grimaced at the ground. He would rather sit than stand, even if the ground was rather...ghastly. He sat himself down beside Darva, almost close enough to touch--to reach out and brush fingers against skin.

“Oh? Where is all that pride in your great and wondrous skill in magic?” Darva smirked and Dorian rolled his eyes, tucking his staff against his neck, resting his hands on the haft.

"Now you're just making fun of me." He huffed.

"I am not." Darva insisted and Dorian’s face curled, mustache raising in indignation. "Well, only half making fun of you, but I’m being honest." Darva patted Dorian's thigh, his hand drifting away before the shock of the simple touch wore off. Dorian cursed his reaction, how it felt like electricity on his skin with just the simplest touch; it was a simple reassurance, nothing more. A touch from...a friend to a friend, nothing more. Not all it took to break the thought from his head, but enough for his reaction to quiet.

"You flatter with reckless abandon, I’ll have you know.” Dorian replied quickly and Darva snorted.

“It only means something if you’re honest about it.” Darva pointed out. “Which I was in this case. And I do learn from the best.”

"You know you do have a tone for that and it’s a sickeningly sweet flattering tone. Perfect for the ladies who flirt with you with reckless abandon." Dorian remarked and Darva laughed, bright and warm, like sunlight in the depths of summer. It never failed to color Dorian’s cheeks, light up the little places in his chest.

"Never going to get anything past you, hm?” Darva raised a brow and his lips curved to a grin just so. Dorian casted his eyes away, ears burning. Always and forever foolish notions bubbling in his head.

“Maybe, if we ever get out of here.” Dorian leaned his head back against the stone, neither warm nor cool to the touch, almost tingling against his skin. Old elvish places were full of magic, just crackling below the surface.

"You think they forgot?" Darva wondered, lips quirking. He had no clue how long they had been sitting in the dark, alcove room. His butt was numb and Dorian fussed with his mustache, tweaking the ends over and over in a nervous tick.

"I would hope not.” Dorian sighed, drumming his fingers against his staff haft. The flame bobbed steadily above them, carried by the air still flowing into the chamber. It hardly seemed designed to choke them, but dying in other ways was much less enjoyable.

"You don't have to keep the light on, you know. I can imagine it gets exhausting..." Darva told him and he put his hands on his knees, willing his legs to stand. He shook out his ankles, gingerly rubbing the numb out of his butt.

"It makes it feel less like the temple is going to trap us here forever and kill us." Dorian droned and Darva sighed, rocking from one foot to the other, hip to hip.

"Cheery thought..." He brushed himself off and looked back at the imposing block of stone that had blocked their way.

"Maybe it's a puzzle or something." He added, looking at the stones. "Not like any of the temples give you their secrets readily, but the ancient elves were fond of puzzles." He mused, biting his finger as he scanned the patterns of the stone. A nervous habit of his own.

"Might as well give it a try." Dorian blew a sigh out of his nose, watching as Darva’s foot tapped on the ground, fingers fidgeting.

How he was going to figure it out was beyond Dorian; he didn’t necessarily doubt Darva's abilities, but skepticism wasn't unwarranted. Darva could be foolish, but many would be fools to think he was stupid. He had a head on his shoulders, one capable of frightening amounts of determination. Dorian had witnessed it when he took the burden of leading the Inquisition, taking the struggles of it in stride with a half grin on his face, saying it was another adventure along the way. Or even back when Haven was destroyed when Cassandra and Cullen carried him half frozen into the camp, lips and ears a deep blue, shivering all over, but eyes still open. Struggling to stay open, but still open.

"Indulge me, will you Darva?" Dorian questioned and Darva took a moment, foot still tapping on the floor.

"What'cha got?" He replied, eyes still on the stonework.

"You didn’t want to be Inquisitor, but you took it up anyway. You didn’t go running, or leave when you could have. You kept going. Why?" Dorian asked, watching as Darva looked all around the stonework. The silence stretched on and on between them until Darva finally spoke up.

"Combination: conscience, and making it up along the way. No one else was going to do it, so I decided I was going to do it. I don’t want to be a savior. I’m just helping people." He spoke surprisingly sincerely, his focus still on the stones as he mouthed numbers and pressed against them.

Dorian chuckled in disbelief. "Just like that then? You make choices that influence the whole world and the future of it by making it up along the way and doing it because no one else will?" He pressed and Darva shrugged, putting his hands on his hips.

"I may be oversimplifying it. There are people around whom I rely on to help make choices. Informed ones hopefully. Leliana gives me reports, plus Josephine does a lot of the heavy lifting. Plus you. You do read to me in fact.”

"Giving me as much credit as them? What will people think?” Dorian snickered and Darva laughed quietly.

"Right? Mother Giselle would have a heart attack." Darva shook his head, his grin lopsided--his big tell on his genuine enjoyment.

"But, still," Darva cleared his throat, "you are a mage, which I am not, and you have insight and abilities the other Mages in the Inquisition do not have. You are also from Tevinter, and there is a rather large lack of such opinions in the Inquisition.” Darva explained.

“An opinion many would not want.” Dorian reminded him and Darva gave a casual shrug as if the weight of the statement ran right off of him.

“You are Tevene, but not all Tevene people are you.” Darva reminded him, giving him a pointed look. “You hardly meet the expectation of the horrifying legend the south has built up. You want to do good and to help the people you care about. You have faith in them--in how they can be better. You haven’t sat idly by. You’ve risked everything to help people who don’t even like you, Dorian.” Darva spoke quietly, keen eyes watching Dorian the whole time.

“I value your opinion highly.” He concluded, looking back at the stones. Quiet filed the space between them and Dorian sat in it, unsure of what to say next. Genuine praise from a man who was rarely genuine, who hid much of that behind a mask of niceties, of strained happy looks. He bore the burdens as well, but underneath Dorian saw the cracks--the strain.

It was easy to see, seeing how they shared that much between them.

“You are selling yourself awfully short as well, Darva.”

Darva turned back, brow raising with a question on his lips.

“Playing the paying a compliment back game?” Darva asked, something in his tone, something in his eyes: skepticism, frustration.

“No.” Dorian spoke plainly, meeting Darva’s eyes. He pushed himself up, only a few short steps to reach him. “I am being honest and genuine. Not many could do what you are doing, and you are doing it well. You’ve been trusted to this position and you’ve worn it well. It’s...brave.” Dorian spoke plainly--plainer than Darva had ever heard him speak before. No gimmicks hiding behind his teeth, or testing the boundaries of it in his eyes.

Darva managed a half chuckle, looking away from Dorian. “I keep expecting a joke. Genuine honesty in hard to come by, I’ll have you know.” Darva half grinned and Dorian snickered.

“It’s strange to say, I’ll have you know.” A faint smile twisted Dorian’s face and Darva chuckled.

“Well I do rather appreciate genuine Dorian honesty.” Darva gently reached out, lightly patting his hand against Dorian’s chest, fingers lingering longer than they needed to--longer than appropriate.

But it only took a second for Darva to pull his hand away, for the touch to end and the intimacy that came with it. The warmth snuffed out, as quick as flame with a cover pulled over it. Only smoke remained, the touch still felt.

“We’re going to get out of here.” Darva spoke to clear the smoke, the embers dying back to nothing once more.

#dragon age #da: inquisition #da:i #dragon age inquisition #pavellan #dorian x lavellan #m!lavellan #owen writes #oc tag #darva lavellan #can i get a big side of just utter pining?? bc that's these two nerds

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